The Ying and Yang of Family

I am English. I am pleased to be so.
The English stereotype is historically of the old stiff upper lip, don't make a scene, don't make a fuss, dignity above all else. However that is nothing like my experience of being English.

Since the late 1950's, the English started expressing publicly that they needed more freedom of expression, they needed the opportunity to carve out their own path in life. As the rights of the individual were championed in the courts, there were some casualties along the way. No longer could a man expect his wife to do and be a substitute mother to him and for a few years the divorce courts had a booming trade while those who could not adapt to a more equal life were set aside in favour of those that could. It was a bumpy few decades but the divorce courts trade is now waning by comparison, the majority of children in this country are being raised in stable two parent families. Perhaps not the original two parents, but stability and love abound.

Families can provide a nurturing environment to raise up the next generation, or to support friendships, or teach a person how to cut a path in the commercial world.  What starts in the family ought to be love, boundaries, affection, belonging, aspiration. These help a person learn to deal with lifes knocks along the way. They teach emotional self regulation and how to overcome hurdles and obstacles.

When a healthy environment is less available, the effect may not be experienced for decades.

When life hits us with unexpected outcomes it can be a shock but we bounce back.

Resilience is defined as a material being able to receive an impact, disperse and expel the force with no visible or lasting damage being incurred.

People who were not able to learn early in life how to be resilient must needs learn the lesson later, and it is a painful one.

When the need to be resilient in every single aspect of a persons life happens all at once, it is not a pretty sight.  They are whelmed, threatening to be overwhelmed. They do not know how to express resilience in all of these areas or how to genuinely feel resilient or how to impartially review the multitude of situations they are simultaneously experiencing.

When there is no way through, there are hopefully some strong friendships.
When the whelmed individual asks the honest question, and the caring and honest answers come in, it gives the asker a stick in the sand to start measuring the direction of the sun, thus the person finds out where they are and can start to decide where they want to be, and plot a course.

People raise people.

All that good folks want is for a better shake than their predecessors and for their offspring to have a better shake than themselves.

We each have a personal responsibility to learn, grow, and develop the skills that were either never taught or were taught but we were not listening that day.

Hurt people hurt people.

Rising above the disappointments or unfulfilled expedtations prevents one from becoming the instigator in the future.  While it is natural for someone to want others to feel some of that which they dish out, it would only continue the cycle for future decades, perhaps future generations.

Cultivate friendships in the good times.
These friendships will enrich your life.
These friendships will point the way to emotional resilience when you are surprised at the immediacy of the emergency.

Resilience and happiness are the long term goals.
Aside from a few wrinkles and a few extra silver hairs, we might be doing alright.

What would I tell my teenage self?

What would I tell my teenage self?

• You are smart, never put yourself down again.
• Stop hiding.
• Bullies will stagnate, you will flourish.  Stuff 'em.  Not in 20 years and after counselling, but right then and there, tell them to go stuff themselves and never look back. You are magnificent. 
• Other peoples troubles are their own.  Empathy, yes.  Giving up your freedom for their happiness, no.
• Don't give people your money because you believe their story.  They believe their story.  It's still a story.
• The best way out will be education.
• Nobody's told you this yet, but if you are not good at something straight away, practice makes things easier and you improve.  If you find maths hard, practice it a little more.  Don't just do the homework to receive the mark and move on.  Learn how to master the principle.
• That kid you're playfully teasing for being a swot, you'll wish you were him on exam day.
• Go to University - even if your teacher pulls that ummmh face to derail you, no matter what it takes and no matter who opposes it.  Find a way.  Again, other peoples troubles are their own.
• Spend less than you earn.
• Have fun where you are.
• Take the taxi.
• Curfews are for idiots.
• Let them worry, you are fine.
• Shake it off and move on.
• Buy that house you wanted.
• Buy the second house you wanted too.
• Buy those other houses you could afford but were talked out of because you thought other people must know better.
• Move abroad when the opportunity presents itself.
• Buy the VW Golf, not the Ford.
• It works out fine.

~

Single Mum Stuff

I am a mum, a mom, a single mum, I am single mumming it.

I am the adult.

I am the adultiest adult in our house.

If look for an adultier adult, it dawns on me that I need look no further than the person standing in my shoes.

I work for a living outside the home.

It is how I stay sane with adult conversation and company, and how I keep the lights on and the tummies fed.

It is a humble job, it’s long hours, it’s not paid particularly well, but well enough that we have most of what we need and some of what we want.

 

We are doing great, knock on wood, fingers crossed.

Although it is tiring, with a big knock on wood, it is sometimes easy peasy.

 

There are some things I would like to point out at this juncture.

1. It is a happy life.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything mediocre.
2. I am busier than you if you are in a 2 adult family.  I don’t care how hard you work, how poorly you feel, how many kids you have or don’t have, how large the corporation is that you head up as the CEO, how hard it was to broker that Peace Treaty ratified by the UN which brought about world peace, I am busier than you.  There is nobody with whom to share the load. There is nobody to sit beside. There is nobody to be the other half of the Yoke carrying partnership, there is nobody in my home to whom I can sound off or ask impromptu advice, there is nobody else who will start dinner while I finish something off, and there likely will never be again.
3. There is no wiggle time to goof off.  Everything, even the fun times, must have a purpose.  Every car ride is an opportunity to check in with my teen or sing with her to the radio or ensure she is in the right place at the right time to keep the doors of opportunity open to her.  Every dinner at the table is an opportunity to listen to the music she’s listening to, watch the YouTube shows she’s watching, hear about how school was. Every visit with family in another city is to give me a few minutes support and to foster bonds between my teen and them in case anything was ever to happen that I couldn’t be around for a while. Every visit to the park is to foster physical and emotional health.  Every visit to the theatre is to encourage art appreciation and creativity. Every church activity is to help her recognise the things she needs to recognise so that she can forge through life with courage.
4. I have an enormous responsibility to drive safely and get home every evening; it is at the fore of my mind daily.
5. The list of things to do to keep the house and us ticking with a roof, power, water, heat, wi-fi, clean clothes, homework done, the place tidy enough and enough interaction with others that we stay sane is almost endless.  If I sit down, I know there is something else I could or should be doing.
6. If I am leaving my kiddo with someone so I can go to a function, we need to get it done and I need to get home.
7. Friends are cherished.  Good friends are people for whom I would jump through a hoop of fire. Just the one, though!
8. I love hearing your triumphs and problems.  If we can be laughing hard at life, that is a joyful moment for me.
9. I like helping out with your kids if I can fit it in and I'll do all in my power to fit it in.  As a firm believer in “it takes a village to raise a child” I am happy to put in the love and the time to be there for your kids as you have been there for mine. 
10. My resources, physically and financially, are very finite.  They run out quickly.  If I am taking your child to a dance, I appreciate you getting them to a central point if possible and I appreciate a small donation toward the petrol to get them to another city and back because I go without lunch to make these things happen.  If you are going to a dance with your child, I appreciate the occasional offer to provide a lift for my little ‘un and I will donate to your time and resources to help make that happen.  If you are asking for a round robin pick up, I appreciate enough notice so that I can knock off work earlier so that I can make sure my kiddo has had dinner, done homework, so that we can get to your home, pick up your kid, get them to the place they need to be too – remembering that if you live 15 minutes from my house, that adds half an hour to the journey.  If there are two of you adults home, I judge you.
11. There are a few things which pique my interest but nothing about which I am obsessed. I like seeing you folks go nuts over stuff but I just don’t get it.
12. My favourite thing is seeing anything done well.  Anything.  Reversing that truck around a corner first time, kudos.  Erecting scaffolding, I’ll stand and watch.  Thatching a cottage roof, I’ll take a picture. Surfing with panache, style points to the max. Stitching that dress, same. A great presentation to a room full of strangers, hats off to you.  Making food that looks like art, wowzers. Making food that's not burned, I stand in awe.

It’s not a competition, but if it were then I’d no doubt win!

I have all my stuff together (knock on wood – we do a lot of that around here) and I might make this look less hard than it actually is because you become accustomed to your lot in life and knock on wood things are going ok right now.

I actually find life quite absurd and funny.

I’m not asking for help.

I appreciate that your life is taxing too.

We do what we do because it needs to be done.

 

Three things would help.  Don’t tell me you know how I feel because your husband went on a boy’s weekend last year and it was hell, don’t get in the way of me getting back to my family, and if I’m looking worn out don’t tell me I look like hell because chances are I lost precious sleep trying to raise my kiddo or help another person raise their kids too.

 

 

 

 

When a desire leaves you

For years it has been easy to consider the possibility of killing in self defence or defence of those who cannot protect themselves.
It has always seemed logical and appropriate.
It was always held in check for the absolute sanction.

Recently the feeling that this would be simple, necessary and easy has left me.
Sure, technique is basic and doesn't leave the mind.
The feeling of being capable and competent remains.
But the absolute knowledge that it would one day be necessary and appropriate has passed.

I feel a little lonely without it.
How do normal people manage?

Charity Fatigue and The Need To Nap

I have charity fatigue.

Everywhere I turn people are asking for sponsorship, donations, food banks, clothing for migrants, Pat Dogs, home help animals, animal shelters, children’s charities, overseas donkey sanctuaries, water aid, homeless shelters, hospices…

I don’t agree with all of the causes but know that other people feel passionate about things close to their heart so I try to respect their personally held views.

I want to help them all – apart from the animal ones, unaffordable animals living in the home have no place in society and should be put down if a suitable home can’t be quickly found – but I can’t.

It’s too much.

I can’t manage it.

At the weekend, Tesco added 30% to the food bank effort collected that day, kind of like a Food Gift Aid, so we were able to donate a couple of bits.

Seeing people in hard times makes me physically tired.

I want people to have all they need and some of what they want.

I don’t believe that “if we all chip in, it’ll get the job done faster”, I just don’t.

So, I have a dilemma.

How do I politely decline?

I’ve never taken rejection well and am not fond of rejecting others.

I gotta get me a tougher skin.

Nearly 3 Years After The World Changed Forever

Nearly 3 years ago, "the incident" occurred which changed the trajectory of mine and my child's life forever. 
Fortunately we are over the initial impact, have landed on our feet after bouncing a few times on our tushie, we are within acceptable parameters for emotional strength and wellbeing.

• We have a roof.
• We have food and a table to eat it at, for many months there it was pasta every night and I was grateful through the grimace.
• We have clothes on our back and shoes on our feet, the child decided to have a growth surge two days after we left and has grown about a foot and gone through 4 sizes of shoe since that time. She was humble enough to wear some of my clothes until we could replenish her wardrobe, it broke my heart to have to do that but she rocked the look and it made me love her a little more.  Now we are fighting because she procrastinates putting away her copious amounts of laundry.  I see the blessing and recognise how daft the disagreement may be in the eternal scheme of things.
• We have beds, working White Goods in the kitchen, and petrol in the car. Each of these things were in limited supply.
• Our house is warm and cosy.

To go from paying half for everything to paying everything for everything was a leap, an enormous leap, and if I thought I lived frugally before it was nothing compared to now. The crushing responsibility of keeping another human being alive, on your own, kept me awake more nights than I care to recall in detail.


I took lots of my possessions and sold them. One particular time I took items for sale and received the cash, the child came out of school with a letter for a school trip for £7 less than I had secured that very day. She obviously went on the trip.


You'd be surprised what you can do without.
You'd be surprised at which items you are happy to sell to make ends meet.
You'd be surprised at how much stuff which had seemed so important now looks like one more thing you have to carry next time you move.
Simplifying is the easiest way through.


When I eventually get a forever home, I am going to buy an ornament, a small and ugly thing.  It will stand as a reminder that apart from dusting, I'll never have to pick that thing up again and move it all the days of my life unless I want to. 


I am looking forward to going out ornament shopping.
That will be a happy day.
But you know what, I'll just add that particular happy day to all the others we have accrued and banked in the past 3 years, of which there are many to choose from.
Ladies and Gentlemen, it gets better, hang on in there.

The Teens are noticing the disparity, and the girls are not happy...

One of my kiddo kids this weekend said
"Can I tell you one of my minor irks with Church?  The girls are always told to plan for marriage and babies and how to have a loving home, but the boys are taught to be successful, plan for success, get good jobs and be like Nephi"
"Honey, I've always thought of you more as a Nephi than Sariah"
"That means a lot to me, Mum, it really does".


Now, I have a girl-Nephi on my hands.
She rocks.
She is funny, intelligent, witty, serious, thoughtful, gentle, sporty with boy sports, she plans back up plans for her back up plans, she does not lose gracefully. 


She knows that it shocks people to see her truly be herself, so she protects you folks from all of that until you are ready, did you know that?  She's done that since she was 18 months old and saw the adults clutch their chest in wonder and exclaim to one another in astonishment as she discussed ideas and situations using full, fully understandable sentences.


She, in a loving way, is being told to prepare to give up "outside the home" ideas of success and make room for her male counterparts.
I do not see this ending well.


If you believe in a Loving Heavenly Father, who knew us from before the foundation of the world, he knew that Kiddo was formidable, he knew that her intelligence was second to very few on this planet, he knew that she had the fire of ambition in her belly.  Her personality, drive and determination were part of her from the day she was born.


Cookie-Cutter stereotypes are the less effective method of inspiring all of the daughters of Zion to reach their fullest potential.  It is stifling, uninspiring, and already she is facing opposition from within the Church from not so well meaning adults who think she should reign it in, all this competence and ambition.  Some folks get it, and help her reach her own goals and own potential.  If she choses to be a stay at home mum, more power to her elbow, I'll support her wholeheartedly because it is her choice and she has the Agency to do just that.


Here's my response to those who think they know what is best for her ....
Help, or move out of the way and be quiet.

Spending My Imaginary EuroMillions Lotto Win

It’s a Euro Lotto roll over this week, something in the region of £101 million Jackpot prize fund.

Someone on £10 per hour would have to work 10,100,000 hours to make that, that’s over 10 million hours.

My shonky maths estimates that to be 5,372 years at work, based on a 40 hour work week, with 47 weeks in the office per year.

5300 whole lifetimes of cash, moolah, dosh, not taking in to account the age of childhood or retirement.

I am sitting here like Homer dreaming of doughnuts – aaaahhhggggghhhh. 

We got to chit chatting about what we would do with such vast sums of cash.

In the past, people have told me that they would pay to have all their details erased from all records and go “off grid” in luxury for the ultimate privacy.

Bit extreme, perhaps.

Others have said that they would buy their loved ones cars, pay off their loved ones mortgages, take everyone on an all expenses holiday to somewhere fancy.

Feels a bit too much like making family and friendship a transaction, where the bought off person feels beholden to the rich person, no longer equals. I can foresee problems with this method.

Thinking about these riches that I haven’t earned is starting to make me appreciate the dilemma of Bill Gates and all the other folks who have amassed gargantuan sums. 

“Oooh, they’ve changed, they never come to the old neighbourhood anymore!”…

Ya know, is it because you kept telling them that they’ve changed when really they had the same ethics and morality and hopes and dreams as they did when you were all kids hanging out and riding bicycles together?  Who really changed their attitude and demeanour toward the now wealthy friend? 

Are you wondering what my solution would be?
I know I am!
So far, and this is a work in progress,

• tick the Stay Anonymous button
• buy a little bit better of a car and just say you got a good finance deal
• and put myself on a humble personal budget but knowing I was debt free
• I’d stay at work until the plan was in place

Since I was a little girl in Primary School, it has irked me that there is a homelessness problem.  Walking through London, my home city, as a kiddo always had the old cogs whirring. 
If I were to make my millions, on a Lotto I do not play, my heart’s desire is this:

1. Buy housing, do them up simply and recommission them
2. Make it a great environment with greenery, local services, access to the town and amenities
3. Start housing the homeless that wanted to, in these recommissioned place

On site, and full time, we would employ the following:

1. a Doctor to address the physical health needs of people leaving the streets
2. a social co-ordinator to address any anti-social behaviour issues and mediate to more acceptable conduct
3. psychiatric help to meet any transitional needs and help with whatever got them out there in the first place
4. a support worker service to help those that need and choose it learn to budget and plan ahead
5. an employment agency, specifically tasked with finding legal, appropriately paid work for those returning to mainstream society

Can you imagine a world where we sought out those who’d got themselves in a pickle and helped them get back on their feet?

It is my Nirvana.

Then I would take a holiday!

How do I help?

My friend has a problem.

This is a different “friend” than last week’s post.

My friend is the most genuinely confident person I ever knew while at the same time is terrified of everything.

Let me try to explain.

 

They would walk in front of anyone to protect those they love, and those they’ve never met who need help.

They would up sticks around the world to proclaim what they believed to be true for 18 months, frequently meeting hostility, frequently having the most amazing experiences they’ve ever known.

They would start over, time and time again with hardly a blink.

This friend picks up for the weekend and goes on adventures to discover new parts of the country.

This friend walks for fun, around reservoirs, through town, just walks long-ish distances.

 

They are afraid to walk to the corner shop in case they don’t make it fearing that their energy runs out and they can’t get back.

They are afraid to do the laundry in case they run out of energy and cannot complete the task.

They are afraid to change around the layout of their furniture in case they get part way through and cannot complete the task.

They are afraid to cycle with their family in case they can’t get back.

They are afraid to cook dinner in case they burn it.

 

The Macro / Micro expressions of courage and fear make my friend really tired.

They are conflicting.

 

Fear does not stop my friend.

They are often on the cusp of anger, a meltdown, a cry-fest, but these things do not stop them.

They cook the dinner, go to the corner shop for bread, do the laundry, change the furniture after procrastinating for weeks.

The fear does not stop the person on a long term basis but is debilitating and tiring.

 

They try to explain it like having a water barrel with a tap to draw down water, but fear that there are punctures and not enough water would remain, and what if there wasn't enough water in the container in the first place to provide enough water to keep folks alive?

They say that most things are easy, terrifying but easy once they co-exinstingly conquer the run-and-hide emotions and do it anyway.

They say the big stuff is easier than the little stuff.

They say the big stuff is a doddle by comparison.

 

I don’t know how to help this person.

 

The ugly side of friendship

Don't even know where to begin.
Friendship.  That tricky beast.
So long as people are at arms length and have no influence in a persons life, things run along swimmingly. 
More like friendly acquaintances.
It gets more tricky fun when people start to shape your world along with you. 
Shared experiences become your own history book, your own reference book. 
The lines of where you end and they begin become blurry. 
Loyalty. Dedication. Laughter. Love. Evolution. Devotion. Celebration.
Then one gets mardy.  Do you know that word?  It's a good word.
When the one gets mardy, the others look at each other with a "huh? was that just me? did I cause that?"  but no, it wasn't them, it was Mrs Mardy in a moody.
Then the moody mardy episode turns to a year long way of being and the others are all still concerned.  They refer to their friendship history book.  Wonder if there's anything they can do to help.  Offer genuine help.  Then they get resigned to the fact that Mardy now has new friends she can be a buddy with who don't know that she is being a cow to the older group.  They've yet to meet Moody Mardy.
You tell yourself that mardiness is born of fear, anger, upset, unfulfilled expectations, jealousy.
You try again to hash it out to little avail, while adding more love to the mix.
And you know what, you wish them well and you make sure you keep a plate in the cupboard for if they ever sort themselves out in the future, so that you know they'll be welcome at your table if they ever want or need to.

My first language is pictures...

I don't think in English.
Nor any other verbal language from any Country.


Thoughts come to me in pictures, images, symbolism.
Some strong thoughts arrive with an attached feeling, normally monkey brain caution stuff.


Then I have to translate that picture into language.


Until a couple of months ago, I didn't know that everybody wasn't doing that.


Weird, eh.

Diaries - That's not wot 'appened!

I heard the other week that when we remember something, we are actually remembering the previous time we remembered it, not the original event itself.
Not being a neurobiologist, I had a civilian root around and this seems to be the general consensus but I haven't conducted experiments myself to validate the findings.


I got to thinking how Mormons are encouraged to keep a diary, to record the daily event and also the insights that occur in their lives.  The big cheeses, le grand fromages, the head honcho's, as far as I am aware didn't say "you have to take a biro and write it on a piece of paper bound in a book for that specific purpose" so instead I have in recent years decided to email my diary updates to myself for printing.  I can type faster than I can write.  I am more often found at a keyboard that a writing bureau.  It works for me.


We move house quite frequently.  Since the age of 24 I've bounced around in a state of "this fixed abode isn't likely to be fixed for very long".  I chose to move every time.  Each time was for a good reason.  What it didn't foster, though, was a sense of permanence and of being able to settle in.  It's a running joke that if I'm not willing to carry it to the truck next time, it's not coming in my house.  Thus I have very few personal possessions.  What I do have, however, are earlier diaries, written by me when I was feeling particularly like recording what was going on.


Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a good memory.  I am pretty blessed with good recall, particularly if there is an audible element to the interaction.  However, when I read back over my diaries which have travelled with me all these house moves, I noticed that there had been a drift, a huge difference between what happened (what I'd written) and how I thought it happened (my 2015 memory of the event) and it is this drift which made me appreciate, for the first time, why it was good to keep a diary.  It is like having the opportunity to re-calibrate and get back to an authentic starting point, which is highly valuable and most definitely appreciated.


To revisit wonderful events such as the birth of a child, or what serving a mission was really like, what it was like to move from my home town to somewhere I hardly knew anybody, the wedding day, holidays, or how frustrated I was to live in a dusty and half renovated house, how liberating and life affirming it was during the time I was agnostic, how really furious I was at a huge bust up, or how this years health kick really will be the one to change everything added a richness to the memories I walk around with daily.


I am also someone who is immensely frustrated at not being able to see the end from the beginning.  It is a physical pain, a torment, and makes me want to sharpen a biro or two.  It is a common phrase among my friends "the end from the beginning".  The diaries I found in a suitcase of books from the most recent 3 house moves helped me see a pattern over a period of years - not the day or two I was hoping for when in the midst of challenges - of how things panned out, how with consistent effort and attention we worked through everything thus far.  I love meme's and one of my favourites is "I have a 100% track record of getting through rough times".  The diaries are evidentiary support of this simple idea.  I have gotten through the bad, I have always and vigorously embraced the fantastic, I have a happy habit of seeing the good, and even on the days where I make a nest in a pile of duvets and cannot be coaxed out for love nor money it all worked out ok.  I can see in hindsight the times when I was loved and looked after.  I can see the unfolding of hopes, dreams and promises.  It is rather humbling to be taught by yourself in the present moment from a time in the distant past, like a voice from the dust.  I think I may try to be a little more diligent going forward.

Some days are just too flipping lovely

Today one of my kiddos had their first YW class presidency training meeting. This kiddo takes her responsibilities very seriously and for that I am one grateful momma. It bodes well for the future.
Today was also an amazing day for me, and I am torn between blabbing my head off and respecting the other peoples privacy. I had a catch up with a cousin.
No great shakes, you say?
Ah ha! I see your 'no great shakes' and raise you an 'it has been almost 32 years since we hung out and our families met for the first time today'! I had such a relaxing afternoon and hope they did too. I am extremely happy that they have moved to be within an hour car ride of my home and I am so grateful for their gracious and easy hospitality. The kids got along like a house on fire too. 32 years felt like 32 days, now if that's not a glimpse of eternity I don't know what is.

How to hold a grudge, part 1

First, you gotta make yourself better than the other person.
This might take some work, be prepared to put in the hours.
Notice how your home is better run than theirs, your furniture is threadbare because you are being "more honest", how you only get to do <insert thing> because you are being more authentic in your daily actions.  Or make a mental note of how many extra hours you worked on that project in the office but they got the lions share of the credit.


Next, you have to pick a thread, the thread has to be from their character, their weakness, their mistake.  Then you have to start tugging at that thread, make the whole silk blouse unravel, pucker and ruin it properly.  You may need to get your foot in there too to have enough purchase and traction to reaaaallllly yank at that thread.  You need to tell yourself that you would have snipped that emotional thread and quit making that disgusting mistake MONTHS ago, YOU would have gotten help with that emotional thread, or done that cool thing with the needle where you tuck it in to the back of the fabric so it doesn't show or continue to snag.


Then, you need to tell EVERYONE how cool you are being about the whole situation but if you were not cool you would have had to be honest about how disturbing that thread it, out their for everybody to see, and they AREN'T EVEN DEALING WITH IT, ughhhh, but nope, you are being nice.


Finally, you have to keep staring at the thread when they are trying to get on with their life, just don't take your eyes off that thing.  Even if you do manage to take your eyes off it, keep the dialogue going "remember the thread, don't, for the love of everything sacred forget about their thread, how dare they talk to you so nonchalantly while they're standing there with this thread".


If the thread, or grudge, is resolved by the other person, never forget that it was once there.


Follow these handy steps and never be caught short footed again.

Even the choir point and laugh! :)

Singing season is nearly upon us which makes me seven kinds of happy.

I’m not gifted or talented in this arena but I am happy and enthusiastic.

With a running start and a lot of help I can get through most songs.

However, I cannot get through some songs without crying.

It is getting ridiculous.

Even the choir point and laugh now :)

My daughter, all 5’10” of her, will bend down and kiss me on the forehead saying “awhhh, you’re so sweet”.

I have been giving a lot of thought to what is doing this, why am I reacting this way, what can I do to stop it?

I don’t cry particularly at songs on the radio, or just general songs.

Some bands make me switch off the radio (Coldplay).

Half a phrase, if pertinent to a life experience, can “do me up like a kipper” as they’d say in London where I grew up.

An idea, a hope, a happy aspiration, a companionship with something bigger than myself, a “you’re not alone in this, we’ll get through”, an “I know what’s going on, I get it” or a “your friend felt this very same way” is able to get under my ribs.

Those very same ribs that I protect and defend and pretend are impenetrable.

Just for a moment.

Sometimes the moment is less than a heartbeat long.

It takes away my ability to breathe, speak or blink without crying.

That thing where your throat closes happens too.

And the daft thing is that I’m not even sad when it happens.

Momentarily and out of context, grief or hope, or griefy hope, will wash through me.

Even now while typing this just the idea of it is making me a little misty eyed.

So, ever being a solution oriented person, I’m trying to face the fact that this happens and find a way to fix this embarrassing problem.

I am currently trying to desensitise myself to one of the songs in the list of numbers we are practicing.

I’m on my 17^th listen to it already today but so far no dice, it’s not working, I am no more numbed to it than I was at the 2^nd listening.

And this is all well and good for the items I know are on the agenda, but our lovely choir masters are deft at a sneak attack of bringing in a new item, with its cruel and unusual punishment of half a phrase which does me up like a kipper, so a retrospective action is fine but I’m not able to forward plan and prevent this happening thus far.

I’m stumped.

Send in your ideas on a postcard.

X

Charity: springboard to progress?

I was chatting with a friend this evening and the subject turned to charity.
We talked about how charity is love in action, it fosters a desire to understand others, to avoid being easily offended, to not be overly disappointed when someone doesn't meet out expectations, to basically cut someone some slack and see their attributes rather than what is immediately apparent.
We talked about how it is a skill acquired over time.
We talked about how it is sometimes easier to go easier on others than ourselves, that we can expect a lot and be our own harshest critics and learning to give ourselves a little breathing space is a priority.

On the way home I asked myself "if I am being kind to myself, what's in it for me?"

An original to me thought popped into this ol' noggin.

If I know I am going to cut myself some slack, I am free try new things without fear of a personal berating session.
What's in it for me is the freedom to embrace a dash of uncertainty.

There will be one fewer critic in the stands because I shall try to be graceful when things go right and also when they don't.
To be on the field with mud and sweat on your face is an opportunity not to be missed.
Learning to become your own coach, your own cheerleader, your own binkie rather than your own worst enemy and critic is worthy of the time and investment to make it work.
I would not give it up for all the tea in the APAC region!

All hands on deck at 0900hrs.

Cripes.
We have known this was coming for months.
We have been pep talking eachother and ourselves for weeks, nay, months.
After hours today a meeting request was sent to every employee to be in a company wide, simultaneous meeting at 0900hrs to discuss the next stages of the reorganisation.
Each discipline to go to their assigned area and receive instruction.
Bile filled the pit of my stomach.
I still have a bit if trauma left over from the last time this happened.
Having recently had a very good managerial review, I came to the determination on the drive home that nothing is personal, this is just shaping the company the way the new boss wants it for continued success and growth.
I have tried to relax tonight as best I can.
~

Depression: A minor head cold, sometimes the flu

Depression.  Ahhh, what a neurological gift, a total cluster, fubar and snafu.
Fatigue makes things worse.
Worry about things real or possible future clusters.

But what is it like to be in a depressive episode?
For me it is like having the snuffles in your brain.
It varies in degree, some times you barely notice other than to give a little sniff, other times you might feel wretched but know that if you grit your emotional teeth you can go to work, get your stuff done, get home, get the kids fed bathed and in bed, you can go to that function, you can wear the frock heels and lippy and when you get home you will be too tired to sleep like a fractious baby but you didn't let anyone down today.
Other times it is like the mental serious cold, you hunker down for a day or two to protect others from catching it or turn your face or warn people nicely you have the snuffles so they can protect themselves too.
Different times it feels like mental flu, so bad you don't know how you can be up and about, and when people see you they kindly enquire after your wellbeing or tell you that you look like death.

So that is a 2 minute insight in to mental snuffles.

Migraine - What does it feel like?

You know when you leave a cupboard door open and then crack your head on it?

Or the pain of the first few seconds of a properly stubbed toe that makes you screech and you cannot breathe properly afterward?

How you can hardly think of anything other than the cracked head, or the stubbed toe.

That is a little like a migraine but the acute pain lasts for days and doesn’t disperse.

I've found a gel pack ice cap on t'internet to alleviate the first signs of said Migraine, will be picking up one of those bad boys and trying them out on our next dance around the park.

Victory Or Death

Victory Or Death!
There is no aspect of my life right now where I couldn't stand on a table and yell this whilst brandishing some kind of implement like a Warrior Queen of ancient tales.
I'm made for it, built for it, vulcanised in the furnace of life, I'm like "meh, what you gonna do?".
But when this happens I don't want to cook.
It actually becomes impossible for me to cook an edible meal.
I loose the ability to prepare food.
Every attempt ends up in the bin, charred beyond recognition, all nutrition destroyed.
Even the idea of opening the fridge, freezer or cupboard is too much and become agitated and have no patience.
Weird, eh.
Chip shop it is, then.

Lara Croft Latina Gangster Hobo

Shocked! 
Wear your own clothes day.
The LDS rock chick girl child walked in wearing t-shirt, flannel shirt, short shorts, tights with lots of holes, army boots, bandana and lots of eye makeup with a hair braid twist.
Kudos mum points for biting my tongue.


Thing is, she looked beautiful, it was just a shock.
"It's only fashion, it's only fashion, it's only fashion" was my mantra as I wafted imaginary smelling salts under my nose.
She saw the face, she secretly and quickly packed a pair of black jeans, she changed at school.
Better than piercings.
Even with all the holes in the tights, she was mighty beautiful.

Chin up

Was speaking with my Home Teachers about this months message this week.
A bit of it was perseverance, carry on carrying on, eye's on the prize stuff.
It occurred to me just now that a dollop of folks have said "I'm here for you", "You can count on me", "Anything you need" and others just went to complete radio silence after the incident 2.5 years ago.


I've just realised I feel a little bit of compassion mixed in with the apathy I feel toward them.
The disappointment has faded, the emotional resilience is increased.


I just feel sad for them that they didn't choose to come along on this amazing journey.
They missed out.

Angry

Today I lost my cool.
Even as it happened I was saying out loud to the recipients of my wrath 'I know my response is disproportionate to the situation but I am seriously cheesed you lot didn't listen to me.  I said no 11 months ago and now this is a total poxy cluster'.
Voice rising.
Face becoming flushed.
That vein in my neck ... oh that blinking vein.

So, I lost my cool today and if they'd done what I said 11 months ago, they wouldn't have copped it.

So there.

Going all Les Mis & 24601

I frequently ponder what it means to be human. What makes me me verses what makes you you.


I often find my ol' noggin gets itself stuck in a loop like a poorly constructed VLookup #N/A. (Jeepers, those annoy the sausage's out of me).


I think I have the answer boiled down to 1 million factors.
One of those factors has had the most lasting impact on my wellbeing.
In times of happiness or times of trial, I have to be able to answer at a moments notice, the question "Who am I?"


The Landmark Forum started me on this particular path, they run classes in most major cities in Europe and North America.  What I liked about their approach is that no two people came away from the class with the same answer. 
"The Forum" was the start, but that was a long time ago, probably 17 years or so.


The question evolved in my little ol' noggin over the years and the only answers that would satisfy me were based around attributes and values, rather than who I was to someone else or what I did for my job, or where I go on holiday, or how many grandchildren I had or wanted to have. 


The "who I am to other people, what do I have, what do I do?" answers were transient, prone to be taken away - particularly in the case of unemployment or relationship changes, house moves, new friendships and so forth.  I need the answer to the question "if you were not here, who would I still be?"


17 years ago, my answer to the question was "Passion, Inspiration, Empowerment, Commitment".
To this day, that answer covers most questions and how I choose to respond.  Other attributes have joined the list.


My answer covers my attempts at raising a Daughter, my Employment, Life in General, and Relationships. I am committed to the idea of there being a relationship out there which is healthy and happy and beneficial to all parties involved.


To me, humanity is born of our physiology, our advanced brains, our dexterity, our teamwork, the development of language and communication, our inventive nature, our problem solving skills, our moral code and conduct of acceptable behaviour, our instincts embedded for thousands of generations.


My humanity is enriched by my core values and attributes.


When times get dark, as they frequently do, I am blessed to not get lost for very long. 
Sometimes remembering that I stand for Commitment helps me stay the course.
Sometimes remembering that I stand for Empowerment helps me in meetings where I need to negotiate a way to meet the needs of the person I am representing.


If I am lucky, I get 70+ years on this planet. 
That's 70 free goes around the Sun.
They're going to have to take me from this life kicking and screaming because I love it so much.
They're going to have to distract me with something shiny so I quieten down for a minute.
Even the crummy days are worth it.


If someone were to ask you what you stand for, and you were not allowed to answer in anything that is corruptible (buildings, organisations, relationships and such) who might you be?

Routine: Friend or Foe?

Routine. 
Known expectations. 
Drudgery.
Boredom.
Freedom.
Liberty.
Framework.
A starting point.




When everything goes to hell in a handbasket there are a few options open to us. 
We can run around like headless chickens, panicking, knowing not what to to.
Or we can dig in, find ourselves, who we are, what we stand for, and do the next right thing on the list.




This is not limited to the Autism community, of which I am an honorary associated member thanks to family relationships with Awesome people. 


It is a choice we make in a moment of extreme experience.




But to make the choice, we first have to have a plan and if possible, some Allies.


Allies are like non-violent gang members, they've got your back, they remind you who you are until you recognise the person they're describing again, just the very idea that they are there holds you together.


The choices we make, when we are lost in a sea of bleughhhh, could be founded on "what worked before" as an experimental starting point.  Being locked in to responding as you always have is not healthy.  It is stifling. 


Using past success as a potential starting block opens the way for moments of absolute genius and clarity.


Routine bores me to heck and is a comfort blanket at the same time.


If I know what is expected of me as a baseline, I am then free to be open to flashes of inspiration, to enrich the experience beyond expectation, to dig deeper on the tricky days, but by golly the idea of routine just makes my eyes droop.


It leads on to the preparatory question... who am I?


We'll talk about that another day.

PTSD: don't be selfish, there's enough to go around.

A guest speaker on PTSD didn't recognise this evening that a Kiddo was in a full out Flashback Panic Attack because of the actions of a <**&%$*&^%*$%> father who coincidentally was a Sergeant in the British Army.

The topic was Help For Heroes and remembrance day, and these expert speakers stood between their audience and the door, the exit. The experts caused more harm than good.

It was an accident.

They would never have realised that there could be a 14 year old in their audience experiencing in real time the very thing they were discussing.

In the middle of England, in a Youth Club, who could have anticipated that?

What I need is a commitment.

A promise that people will leave a space sufficient for a different opinion, that you leave a physical space sufficient for a person to excuse themselves and that you stop and ask the question if something seems amiss.

To avoid embarrassment, give everybody a 5 minute break to walk around and give the kiddos the freedom to choose if they return to the room.

Now, this Kiddo has amazing Youth leaders who couldn't figure out what was wrong but who recognised something was amiss even though she couldn't explain herself, and they sustained her until her Mum got there. They did everything they knew how to do and from the bottom of my heart I thank them.

People, make a space for safety, even if that safety means leaving. Please.

10 minutes in.

It's been 10 minutes since my last post.... Hi, My name is Mojo and I am a share-aholic. 


Today is not a Tidal Wave day (all overwhelming and teeth gritty), it is pretty blinking awesome and not at all smothery.


You will notice as we get to know each other that I make up words, some find it amusing or endearing, others just shake their head and move on.


Yesterday my boss, in the half yearly appraisal, told me I was awesome and doing a bang up job, therefore it must be true.


I went in to the meeting, held in a board room with a big wood table and refreshments served and everything, with a swan like façade of grace but a jelly on the inside and he started the meeting with that little nugget. 


Would it be a more productive world if we knew what people thought of us, if we knew that they were delighted today, that they're no longer angry, that they're excited about the collaboration y'all have in store? 


There'd be some down sides to that too, knowing that someone was cheesed at you, not being able to pretend that's not happening, having to own your relationships with people fully.


Imagine the possibilities, the saved emotional energy of not having to second guess.


Imagine how creative and rewarding knowing and responding accordingly could become.
 
My daughter jokingly berates me for making friends too easily.  What she is actually seeing is my way of bumping along nicely with the other 7 billion roomies in my life.  She jokes that I made friends with an American family in a long queue for the loo at a McDonald's in London.  It was a funny and friendly encounter, I know that the family came from California, that they were over with their grown children and a couple of grandkids, that they were enjoying most of London and yet were still confused by queuing.  We're not on each others Christmas card list, we're not going to ring each other to find out what the scores on the rugby were, but it was a nice encounter.


I guess having served a mission in The Greece Athens Mission, perhaps being a mum to a pretty stonkingly wonderful and challenging kiddo, and perhaps living up to one's heritage just brings out the "hey, how you doing?" in me.


So, how you doing? 

Inaugural Missives

There is a lot of pressure around an inaugural posting but never one to shirk from a self-imposed challenge, let me introduce myself. I am a woman in her 40's, Mormon somewhat, love the sciences, English and Mathematics, I work Full Time and have been in the workplace since the age of 12 where I lied about my age to get a bar job. I grew up in poverty,my goal upon leaving school was to get a job which was a goal which has rarely let me down. I am a Black Belt Karate. I was afraid of falling down to the point where my first ever skiing trip was a bust so I studied Jiu Jitsu and was thrown to the mat for a year before declaring that falling held no more fear. I live a humbly and fiscally restricted awesome life in the middle of England. There's more. Let's get to know each other.