It’s None of your Business

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The light within is extinguished when gossip hits our ears and is relayed with our mouths.

 

I have always wondered about the intent of those who gleefully inform you that others have been talking about you. I have had it happen on occasion, and it is always embarrassing, humiliating and hurtful. Often the information is passed onto you with a smile, as though this is quite an enjoyable activity. The problem is that you don’t know the context in which the person was talking about you. Was your name brought up in conversation, and then something was said in passing? Were they tired, depressed, had too much to drink or angry at the time? We all slip up and say things in the heat of the moment. I would be more wary of the person who passes this information onto you. What good does it do? It can break friendships apart and cause you to retreat into yourself. It certainly doesn’t make you feel great. I don’t buy that you are informed for your benefit.

When somebody tells me something in confidence, it is kept private. That person may be having issues with a mutual friend, and I will try to help iron out a resolution. Imagine if I went to the other person and informed them that X said Y? Not only would it inflame matters, but it wouldn’t leave anyone feeling great. Discretion is necessary in friendships. I believe we all have a pretty good instinct as to whom is in our court, and who isn’t. We don’t need to hear this extraneous stuff from a third party. I have seen many friendship groups fall apart for this reason. If I ever hear stuff about a person, it dies when it hits my ears, and is never repeated from my lips. Life is challenging enough, without engaging in gossip!

People come to you with their own baggage. Imagine if someone has a terror of rejection, and you are flat-out at work at a certain point in time. They may complain that you aren’t there for them to someone else, or that you haven’t seen them. If this is relayed back to you, you may become angry at their lack of understanding of how hectic your life is. If left alone, you get in touch when you can, and have a delightful catch-up with this friend. It isn’t our job to run around informing others as to what was said in the heat of the moment. It’s schoolyard shenanigans, not befitting grown-ups.

You don’t diminish in worth by hearing that someone has said something mean about you, and you don’t increase in worth by hearing that someone approves of you. What you think about yourself is what matters. Remember, what others say about you is none of your business, and perhaps gently inform the gossiper of the same.

 

Leisa’s Blog

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I have had the pleasure of being Leisa’s friend for several years, and her integrity, kindness and empathetic nature hold her in good stead as a counsellor and wellness coach.I was beyond excited to find that she has recently joined our WordPress family! Check out her blog here and show her some love!

Suffragette’s, Eddie the Eagle, Bear Cottage and Guardian Angels

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My daughter saw the trailer for Suffragette and was desperate to see it at the movies. Alas, it was on limited release in Australia, and not showing near us. We were overjoyed to find it on DVD last week. “I think about these women whenever I vote,” I told my daughter. Sadly, I also think of how far we have yet to progress, some hundred years later. It was special, cuddling up with my girl, running the gamut of emotions as we witnessed what the suffragette’s endured. See this movie if you can. Carey Mulligan, Helena Bonham Carter and the whole cast are simply stunning, and the footage at the end left us both in tears. You can appreciate where you are and certainly what is left to achieve by viewing women’s history.

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We also went to the movies and saw Eddie the Eagle. I am an ignoramus when it comes to sport. I don’t watch it, nor do I know anything about it. In spite of this fact, I fell in love with Eddie, and was amazed as he refused to back down, despite the odds. Cleave to your dream, and never, ever give up! It doesn’t matter what the knockers say. You aren’t living for them!

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This is why I love Channing! Diagnosed with dyslexia, he has become a hero in the dyslexia advocacy community. This petition has started up, to bring Channing to Australia. It would mean so much to kids with dyslexia to meet up with him, and listen to his story.

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I had to share this picture of my poor angel. Sorry about what I have put you through!

My beautiful friend Nadine, is raising money for Bear Cottage in the City 2 Surf, a huge event held in Sydney in August. Any donations are greatly appreciated and you can read more by clicking here. She is immensely grateful for the love and care the staff and volunteers showed her little boy, Archie, during his short and precious life.

 

 

 

 

I had a dream…

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There I was, minding my own business, in the midst of a very busy life, when he appeared in a dream. Time had dulled him from my conscious mind, his features obscured. He was simply ‘that man.’ He was the one who came upon me as a vulnerable fourteen year old, and nearly ended my life. I had nightmares about him every night for many years, and the relief was indescribable when they finally ended. It were as though his hold over my life had ceased. Free at last! At last… It took my by surprise a week ago, when he appeared once again. I dreamt I was in a shopping centre, and he had spotted me. I knew instantly who it was. The stubble, that voice, those eyes… It all came flooding back. I ran, desperately trying to get away. It seemed to go on for eternity, until he cornered me. At first he was reassuring, telling me that he wasn’t going to hurt me. His voice had a pleasant tone, obviously rehearsed. I wasn’t moved by his display, and I kicked out. He didn’t like that at all; not one bit. Now he was snarling, ready to destroy me. After a mammoth struggle, I woke. I was crying, my whole body shaking. What the hell just happened?

I wondered what old file I was desperately trying to dump from the recesses of my brain. I hadn’t thought of him for so long… Since the dream, I have felt fragile, and haven’t had time to process what occurred or why. In some ways it has been a good thing, to be kept busy. In other ways, it has given me leave to avoid thinking about it, to my detriment. I wonder what was going on deep in my subconscious to summon him in my dream? Was it the crime report involving a young girl that had come to my attention? An advertisement for the aftershave he wore? A man who looked like him in the street? It could have been any one of those things. PTSD has no rhyme or reason. You can be coasting along splendidly, and then whack! I have slept fitfully since, as though my mind is fighting going into REM. It doesn’t want to let go, lest he be waiting.

We have a little cockatiel who was born with a deformed tail. It is curly, and magnificent, though sadly leaves her unable to fly. She is a delight. She was on my lap the other day, and felt so comfortable, that her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep. No hyper-vigilance or anxiety with this little one! I looked on with wonder at the ease of her rest.

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I pray I never dream of him again. I hope I never have to use all my mental resources in a lucid state to outsmart and defeat him in the future. The scars reading like a street directory over my body state that I have been there and done that. I want to close my eyes like this little bird, and fall into deep, blissful slumber, without the inclusion of him. I hope over time his features will be obscured again. He will once again recede into the ghoulish mists in the periphery of an otherwise enchanted tale.

Trust, Resistance and Princess Stubborn.

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My daughter took part in a workshop run by Bushbred Horse Assisted Learning Programs. I haven’t had much to do with horses, and had no idea what to expect. The kids were introduced to a handful of these magnificent creatures, and tried to figure out where each one fitted into the herd. There was an obvious leader, a loner, an easy-going type and an alert, nervous filly. She was instrumental, as she alerted the others to danger with her hyper-vigilance.

My daughter gravitated to a darling little pony of which to work with. Within minutes she had been named Princess Stubborn and she certainly lived up to it! I looked on in wonder as my daughter was shown how to put her bridle on, then lead her. The kids created an obstacle horse, and it was a challenge, getting this little pony to be a team player! Asserting one’s authority didn’t cut it, nor did pleading. Sighing, surrendering and letting this little pony be led by a gentle grip did. My daughter (whom shares many traits with this particular pony), learnt that in order to manifest, you must first clear your mind. In order to have a workable life, you must know where you stand. Nothing can be forced; it has to occur in its own time and manner. You can’t simply take a rope and give it a tug and expect compliance from life. It is both simpler and more complex than that. To the daughter that is stoic, determined and sometimes stubborn-and to the little pony that is likewise-thankyou for showing a grown girl how life is meant to be done. If you ever have a chance to get involved in a similar workshop, I would highly recommend them!

  

Picture Books

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Happy Birthday, Mr Attenborough.

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In honour of the wonderful David Attenborough’s 90th birthday on Sunday, this week is going to be natural world week on Ramblings of the Claury. We’ll share some of the great man’s quotes, as well as words from others who have inspired the study and respect of the planet and the animals with whom we share it.

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MRI’s, a Painting and Pegs!

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The period between school terms went by in a purple haze, taking with it, Prince. Fans woke in shock to hear the news of his passing last week. This year has taken so many individuals in the arts, and it’s only April! 

The holidays were divided between time at home, and being out. My daughter caught up with a few of her gorgeous friends, and it made my heart soar to witness the bonds deepening. The girls put down their electronic devices and made up dances and spells, plays and songs. We also went to plays, including The Peasant Prince, and Cautionary Tales for Children at the Sydney Opera House. It starred the extraordinary Virginia Gay. She held my daughter spellbound.

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I was gifted these divine bird pegs by a friend. I have written about this friend before. A nurse, she has had health issues the past few years, and has astounded me yet again, by putting her hand up to support a local lady as she flies to Singapore. This young lady has MS, and her symptoms have escalated. She has gone to Singapore for intensive chemotherapy and stem cell treatment. I am thinking of both these valiant women. They will be in my heart every time I peg an item on my clothes line.
 My friend Diana Reynolds is an artist, and she gifted my daughter and I this enchanted painting. It has pride of place in our home school room, where we get to admire it daily. To check out more of Diana’s work, click here.

My MRI results weren’t what I wanted them to be. I had hoped to receive a procedure known as a discogram, to shrink my remaining discs. It was found that they had all desiccated, which explains why I wince every time a bus or car I am travelling in hits a bump. I have no shock-absorbers! I wish it were merely a case of changing the shock-pads! There are many more issues, which I have neither the time or inclination to see to at the moment. I only had one day in bed throughout the holidays, so I am relieved. I carried on, throughout social occasions sometimes with the aid of a stiff drink and for that I am grateful. It is a nasty, merciless agony, which has grown into a monster. I humour it; I temper its fury and I promise it the world if it will just let me do what I need to do. When my daughter is  a little older, I will have that longed-for overhaul. I will admire the bird pegs, and the symbolism behind them. They have the ability to fly, and yet they are anchored. Perhaps it’s a comfort, behind grounded. They know that they have a choice.

Term 2 has just begin in Sydney, and I look forward to many more adventures. You could live for a thousand years and still not experience all that there is in this world. I had a conversation with a friend who is extremely ill. She told me her simple wishes for the next year or so. In light of her disclosure, I am going to apply for a passport. Life is too damned short and it flies by like a bird unanchored. Pain and illness, nor nothing else is going to stop the experience of new horizons. It mustn’t.

Teddy Bear Olympics

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We were invited to take part in a Teddy Bear Olympics this week. Our friend’s outdid themselves with the decorations! There were hundreds of soft toys acting as spectators, flags, hand-made medals and little trophies. Some of the categories were for the shiniest nose, best dance moves and discus! It was glorious to see the kids outside, being kids.

They cheered each other on, spending hours gallivanting around, having a lovely time. I thought it was a brilliant idea, and it brought together a wide range of ages. Let childhood last for as long as possible! I know there were many soft toys getting congratulatory hugs last night! Our Rosie certainly was!

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Something happened on the way to the Olympics, which left my daughter and I with the feels. We were at a train station, and a two-year old had a meltdown over the vending machine. She wanted some treats, and she wanted them now! Her mother had no change, and the little girl tipped over the toddler edge, and couldn’t reign herself in. A group of young guys sat down next to us, and rather than roll their eyes at the screaming toddler and her poor mum, one of them went into his bag, and handed her one of the little koala bears he had been selling. The spell was broken, and the toddler smiled. The mother was eternally grateful. There were good feelings all-round. The power of a soft toy can’t be underestimated! Did you have a favourite when you were a child?

 

Teena, Doggie Perfume, Art and Whimsy

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On a blustery and rainy Sunday, we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art at The Rocks. I love this place; it is eclectic, ever-changing and has magnificent views over the harbour from the rooftop café. I met some friends, and we were excited about attending Teena the dog’s farewell from the exhibition space. Teena, the daschund, even has her own perfume! It smells of wet dog, in homage to this precious little being.

Teena’s dad, David Capra, interviewed a lady from mindDog Australia, and she was awe-inspiring! Sydney-based, this organization advocates for people with depression, PTSD and other challenges to be matched with a companion dog. It makes all the difference to the individuals involved.

We also went to Grayson Perry’s My Pretty Little Art Career . I found it mesmerizing. The detail in each of the pieces is extraordinary! What a remarkable and gifted artist Grayson is. There is still time to go see the exhibition, before it closes on the 1st May.

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There has been a bit of outrage about the proposed Australian $5.00 note. This is what we are getting.

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This is what many of us would prefer.

Dame Edna Everage, a pie and beer.
Dame Edna Everage, pies and beer. Which one do you prefer?

Whimsy is an essential component in leading a tolerable life. May your week contain much whimsy!

Spirit Animal Award

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Many thanks to Annie for nominating me for this lovely award!

The Rules:

  • Post the award picture on your blog.
  • Write a short paragraph about yourself and what your blog means to you.
  • If you could be any animal, what would you be?
  • Nominate others.
Hummingbird Redemption was created as a place where I could write of beauty, art and of hope. It was originally a place where I could pour forth the contents of my heart, and has grown into it’s own community. My blog means a great deal to me, and I miss it when I don’t have time to blog. I miss you all! I am a writer, content provider, speaker, poet and home school mum. I am writing my second book, in the small segments of time I am afforded at the moment! To see more of my work, you can head over to Siren Empire.
If I could be any animal, it would be a bird. They have held me entranced since I was a child. How liberating it must be, to have wings! I have always had birds as pets, and am amazed at their intelligence and zest for life.
My Nominations for this award are as follows: