It Is Not My Place To Make Everyone Happy

Write this 10 times as punishment for failing yet again.

It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy
It is not my place to make everyone happy

So why do I keep trying and failing so miserably at my own expense? Am I truly a masochist that looks for pain. Maybe Simon is right. Maybe I need to realise I can't solve everyones problems, I cant make everyone happy and feel good about themselves. I am not everyone's healer. And I should just give up and let everyone fight it out for themselves. Because I am sick and tired of being caught in the middle of everyone else pain and anger.

Over Shoulder Boulder Holders

That's what my brother used to tease me with when I was first wearing bras and I used to think how could he say that about these little bras well now that certainly applies.

How I wish could go back to those days. Those days when my breasts actually could be called perky instead of floppy. Back in the days when I was an A cup, well maybe when I was a B cup would be better look.

I remember the thrill of wanting to wear a bra - that would mean I was all grown up - wouldn't it? I remember getting a second hand bra from my cousin when I was in Year 7 (the year I turned 12) and stuffing it full of tissues and wearing it out and thinking I was just the coolest girl ever.

I remember going shopping with my Mum and then being really embarrassed because she talked in a loud voice to the shop assistant about training bras - OMG, I'm sure she was really talking in a normal voice but it sounded loud to me!!


I remember getting my first pretty bra - a little black net/lace number with a appliqued flower discretely placed over the nipple area - no wires at that time - but did I feel special?

I remember the first time a boy tried to undo my bra - sort of scary and nice at the same time.

I remember having my first maternity bra at the tender age of 17 and realising my breasts were never going to be the same again - from a B to a D in what seemed like an overnight happening. Plain white maternity bras they seemed huge and pointy - no pretty things like now.

So many memories tied up with one piece of clothing.

Now, I hate wearing them, they are a form of torture, they hurt my back, their wires poke under my arms pits, I have trouble doing them up because of my bad shoulder. Oh to go back to the days of smaller perkier breasts and pretty pretty bras - sigh.

Lest We Forget

In the pre-dawn light a crowd gathers to remember. The scouts and rovers have held an all night vigil. The dawn rises over the city as the bugle sounds the last post. And the crowd is silent as the haunting notes float out over the city.

Later an old man sits in a hospital car as it drives down the road and when asked how he is feeling he answers "fantastic - just look at this crowd, it gets bigger every year". Another old man sits in an open truck, splendid in his best suit and his old army beret, his medals proudly sitting on the left side of this chest and those of his relatives on the right - 3 lots in all. Medals that look heavy on his slight frame. As the truck gets to the dais he lurches to his feet and stands straight, holding on tightly with one arthritic hand but of so proud as he takes the salute, his arm snapping to his head - he has not forgotten even all these years later - he is 99.

A woman sits at home watching this unfold on TV with tears falling from her eyes for all those lost and all those that came back who proudly march or get driven in the hospital cars on this special Australian and New Zealand Day. She can not bring herself to go to the dawn service or the march as she knows that she will sob loudly as they pass and that is not what they need. They need the cheering children waving their flags. She does not understand why this day touches her heart so strongly, but it does. Could it be the tens of thousands of men and women who answered their countries call - a generation nearly lost on fields so far from home. Could it be the indifference that those conscripts in the the 60s and 70s suffered when they returned from their war. Could it be that lives are still being lost in Afghanistan. Can it be that being a wife and a mother she now understands how lucky she is not to have lost one of her own and so she grieves for all those mothers and wives who have?


They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. Lest we forget.

Let us never forget, let us show the pride and courage of the generations now gone and those that are now dwindling in numbers for they too will be gone before long. Let us remember the forgotten soldiers who did not have the chance to volunteer but were conscripted and who did our country proud in a war that no-one wanted. Let us remember the wives and mothers for they too paid the ultimate price. Let us as a country continue to remember for we do them a disservice if we forget.

Tough Times Ahead

25 years ago this August I was forced back into the workforce as we as a family were in danger of losing our home. Interest rates were in the high teens and living on one salary, no matter how careful we were, just wasn't covering all the bills. I had always been happy to be a stay at home Mum, in fact I loved that as a job, but I had to put that to one side and put the family first. I have never regretted the decision - although the plan was to work for 2 years and then stop, and I am still working. Partly because as the kids got older the bills increased, and then because we enjoyed having some extra money in the bank and also because I love my job. I was hoping to retire at 55 - next year in fact, but the recent events with Super mean I probably will stay for at least another 5 years - but luckily now only working 8 days a fortnight. We weathered the storm, stayed strong as a family and came through the other side all the better for it.

I can see similar times ahead now for not only members of my own family but other young families. Even with my glass half full take on life, things are going to get tough and stay tough for a while - hopefully no more than 5 years but who knows.

What I worry about for those now facing this challenge is that there are less jobs and the marketplace is more competitive. I was lucky - I got a job because I knew someone who had got me some temp work and who then wanted to job-share and put my name forward. I was accepted on a 3 month trial basis, and then having proven I could do what was needed was made permanent. So I never had to compete at interview or put myself through the countless job applications that seems to be the norm now.

We help were we can, because we were helped in our times of need. I wish I could save my family from having to make the tough decisions, but the reality is they have to be made and all I can do is be as supportive as possible.

My only advice is to stay strong and rely on each other through the tough times. Do you best not to lash out at each other and try not to be hurt by offhand comments if your significant other is lashing out in frustration. Find forgiveness in your heart as it is through love that we can find the way forward. If someone offers a helping hand, try not to see it as a condescending gesture but take it for what it is - a gift from someone who cares enough to ease the burden.

Humility

My husband chooses not to read my blog even though I have invited him to many times. He feels it is my place to say what I need to say and that if I have something to say to him I will directly.

As you will know if you have read my previous posts, I have been given the most wonderful man as my partner. I still don't know what I have done to deserve him, but how lucky am I to have found him.

The other day I read to him my post 'I Am Truly Blessed" and then read him one of the comments I received on it. He was astounded that 1. I had written about it and 2. that someone thought to comment on what he sees as something that anyone who loves someone would do. I love his humility - I mentioned names of others we know and asked him if he thought they would do what he did without a second thought. His answer was I suppose not, but to him to not do it would be foreign to who he is.

Other men I know including my boss wish that he was their partner - not because they are gay, but because they see in him things they wish they had in their lives. I wonder too if they strive to follow in his footsteps with those they love. I hope so.

It is not to say he has no faults, he is after all human, but this side of him is the one he shows to me most often and more so as we age. I also cherish him and so maybe that is some part of what I get back. But he had a wonderful role model in his father who also put his mother on a pedestal all his life.

He is sometimes so hard on others in the world and expects perfection as that is what he strives for, particularly in his working life, and yet he loves me with all my faults. He is so humble when I say thank you for his love.

Self Love

So my appointment with Simon on Friday dealt with clearing my heart chakra (I know I spelt this wrong) - and issues of love came up. The first was the statement that 'love is suffering' - now that is a heavy one and I won't go into that here - but we turned it around to Love is Freedom and Love is Truth.

The other issue was how I love myself - or in my case - don't love myself. I suppose like a lot of other people I feel strange when I get praise, or someone compliments me just for being me. I now know I need to accept this praise and not only accept it but believe it.

I said in an earlier post I was comfortable with who I am, except for my weight, and I still hold that that statement is true. However, I don't see me the way other people do because my weight issue is always foremost in my mind. My husband loves me just for who I am, he can see me better than I see myself - all I see is a fat body that no one could possibly love. He still sees me for who I was when we met - or maybe he just loves me so much that fat body and all it doesn't matter to him. How lucky I am to have him in my life. Imagine how I would feel if I had a man that only cared about outward appearance and what other people think. I would be miserable. It is through his love that I can walk out the door each day and face the world.

So I have to work on loving myself just the way I am - it is hard though when my body always gets in the way. Not just the weight but yesterday my foot went into cramp just as I got into the car - luckily I wasn't driving. All the way home (20 mins) I had to massage it and stretch it and there I am in my head thinking how can I love myself when all seems to be going wrong. What is there really to love about this overweight broken down body. And tears roll down my face and I turn my head so he can't see. And even as I write this I cry. How do I turn it around. How do I love myself. And yet I must and I will - just another journey I need to go on to come out the other side a better and stronger person.

Anzac Day - A Time To Remember

I know Anzac Day is a week away, but I was compelled to write and post this today.

From the poem For My Solider Son by Sandra Randall ©2007 (www.authorsden.com)

I am very sad today its time to say goodbye
To my Darling boy and I sit and cry
Why does there have to be war
Why oh why oh why

Hard to think of all those gone
All those left to die
Our Diggers in the trenches
Diggin in the dirt
Never mind if they’ve been shot
Or any of them hurt …

They just keep on going,
Blood, sweat and tears,
Our Soldiers bound together
For many many years

With Anzac Day approaching my thoughts often turn to how hard it must be to send your son or daughter go off to war. No matter how much you believed that they were going to fight to keep your country free, to know they may never return, I just don’t know how you do it. While it is hard to lose any member of your family to bury your child no matter what age must be the hardest thing of all.

During my years of researching my family tree (including my husbands) I have found many surprises, I have also found hardship and sorrow and the saddest, the one that touched my heart the most, was the story of my husband’s great grandmother Christina. Here is a small bit of her story. May none of us ever find ourselves in her shoes.

Her name was Christina Le Nepveu and she married Philip Richard Cornish in Vic in 1894, they had 5 children – 3 daughters and 2 sons. Her husband died in 1903 and she married Charles Allison Shaddock in 1906 and had 4 more sons, one who is my husbands grandfather Edward Louis.

Christina lost 2 of her sons in World War I. Imagine her heartbreak when 5 letters she had sent to her 18-year-old son were returned with the chilling word KILLED pencilled on them. She had no notification of his death and it took her months to have it confirmed. Then to have her other son wounded in France, paralysed but being sent home only to find out that he died at sea while being repatriated.

And so she buried two sons, collected their medals and somehow went on with her life. I am just thankful that she was not alive to see another of her sons go off to war in World War II and come back a broken man who eventually suicided because it was too much to bear.

To all the men and women who have died for us and to those who have survived but at what cost – I thank you for your sacrifice. To all the mothers still with us and those that are gone, my heart bleeds for your sacrifice. It still brings me to tears.


RIP our Anzac Family
Pte Philip John Cornish (1895-1917) Service No 76 22nd Battalion AIF. Died 29th March 1917. Awarded 1914/15 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal. Memorialised at Villers Bretonneux- France. On the Roll of Honour Australian War Memorial Canberra.

From his war records the following in despatches: “For consistent gallant conduct and devotion to duty as Stretcher-Bearer during the operations at Fleubaix, Armentieres and on the Somme. He has answered the call without hesitation and regardless of heavy fire, setting a fine example of devotion to duty and self sacrifice for the sake of his wounded comrades.”

It was while returning to the front after having taken another wounded solider back for help that Philip was shot in the back and paralysed on the 27th July 1916. He was shipped back to England and was being sent back to Australia where he died at sea from kidney failure as a result of his injuries.

Pte James Dudley Cornish (1897-1915) Service No 2133A Unit 6th Battalion AIF, died 7th August 1915, killed in action. Awarded 1914/15 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal. Memorialised at Lone Pine Memorial Gallipoli. On the Roll of Honour at the Australian War Memorial Canberra.

He was not officially listed as KIA until 7th March 1916 after a board of enquiry.

Board of Enquiry Statement
“Witness knew JD Cornish intimately, and confirms that statement that he had joined the Unit from reinforcements. He was in A Coy. He was killed in a charge early in August and witness was as close as possible to him when he fell. They had gone into action side by side. Witness undid his equipment but there was nothing to be done, as he had been killed outright. He was not buried for as he had fallen between the two firing lines his body had to be left there. “

And Christina’s letter to the Dept of Defence – one of many before she had her answer.

Dear Sir In answer to your telegram this morning, I am enclosing one envelope returned to me. I sent one to my daughter in town and gave 2 to a lady going to town yesterday she was going to make enquiries for me. This envelope was the last one I wrote to my dear boy the day they went on the boat. They landed in Egypt on 17 July and the last letter he wrote to me was dated 26th July he said then they did not know when they would be going to the front and that was the last I heard of him till I received these letters – each of them returned and marked killed on every one. Just the same as this one which was a great shock to us all and I will be glad to receive some news as soon as possible. Dated 26 January 1916.

Pte Edward Louis Shaddock (1910=1959) Service No VX35427. 2/6 Battalion AIF. Served in Middle East April 1941-May 1942, New Guinea October 1942 to September 1945 Awarded 1939/45 star, the Pacific Star, the Defence Medal, the War Medal, and the Australian Service Medal.

May we all take a moment this Anzac Day to remember those that sacrificed so much for our freedom. Not just those that served at the front in all our Wars, but also those that stayed at home and waited never knowing what would come. To those that sacrificed through rationing in the first 2 Wars and to those that came home from the Vietnam War with no recognition and little reward. I personally will never forget your sacrifices and continue to give thanks in my own way each and every Anzac Day.

I Just Blogged To Say I Love You

To all my family and to all my friends.

I would like to say "I Love You From The Bottom Of My Heart".

For no other reason than that you are you and that you mean the world to me.

Have a wonderful weekend. You are in my thoughts always.

Love and kisses.

Today Would Have Been ...

... my Grandma Win's birthday. She was born on the 15.4.1897. Happy Birthday Grandma wherever you are. I still miss you more than words can say and have been thinking about you a lot today. You were one tough cookie, both physically with all you had to bear, but also mentally. You aimed for perfection and expected no less from us, I hope in some way I have lived up to your expectations. Love you still.

To HRT or Not To HRT - That Is The Question

Menopause - the great debate seems to be do you use HRT or not and if you choose to what do you use - the manufactured chemical type or the all natural you need to take a lot more for the same effect type.

One part of me thinks if my maternal ancestors managed to get through menopause without using HRT why shouldn't I. I suppose there is and increased risk of dying younger - pre-menopause women's hearts are protected by estrogen and when that falls it bring your risk factor up to that of a man. Ooohh there is something good about periods after all! And lets face it most of my maternal ancestors probably didn't live much past 70.

Some women I know do menopause very hard, the hot flushes, the menopausal brain, the depression that sometimes comes means that HRT is a must for these women. But is it a must for me? I'm certainly not enjoying being hot all the time, but I certainly haven't got to the laying in a pool of sweat in the middle of the night stage - and maybe I never will. Some women seem to breeze through the menopause - maybe that will be me?

I switched on to the end of an Oprah show about menopause and HRT the other day and Dr Phil's wife was there touting her book about just this subject. Trouble is I am put off reading the book because she came across as a know-it-all American (sorry I know that it not a nice thing to say and not all Americans are that way). But do I want to take advice from Dr Phil's wife?

I've talked to some other women friends about this and I don't know if that has made things any clearer or not.

So I suppose I am off to find out more before I get to that place, you know, the climbing the walls asking the doctor to give me anything to stop these symptoms place. I'll let you know if I find anything that makes the decision easier.

Happy Easter

Easter has a lot of meanings for a lot of people and whatever it means to you I hope that your Easter fulfilled your expectations and gave you great joy.

For me, this Easter was extra special. It was the first Easter in a lot of years that all my children and their partners and my grand children were together to celebrate in one place.

More than half the family had suffered from a very nasty strain of gastro that had laid many of us in our sick beds, myself included, in the week that proceed Easter, but all of us managed to be well for the morning of celebration.

As a mother and grandmother to have all of my loved ones together - laughing, smiling, enjoying good food and each other's company was just the boost I needed to get me over the last hurdle of being unwell.

To see my 2 grand-daughters - one so tiny being helped by one so tall on their Easter egg hunt was truly magical.

Thank you to all my children for taking the time to share together. A special thanks to my eldest daughter and son in law for organising and hosting the event, and to all my other children and my future daughter in law for rearranging work schedules, bringing supplies and playing musical chairs in the lounge (you will all know what I mean).

Oh and the caption to the photo - What is this thing and what was it doing in that plant?

My Ever Changing Universe

As I get older I realise that a new order in the scheme of things has started, just as I suppose my parents must have done years before.

No longer will I be or should I be the centre of my children's universe or even that of my grandchildren. As my children have grown to adults they now have universes of their own to consider. These include their own children, partners, friends and work. As my grandchildren grow their focus will also change - so I am savouring these times with them now just as I tried to keep all the memories from when my own children were young.

I am enjoying seeing my children in these new roles and I am proud of who they have become and where they are going. Some still have universes to build as they are solo satellites at present but I know their time will come. Some are in relationships that are still new and developing. Some are parents of older children and some of younger babies. But all of them have either become or have the potential to become the suns that hold their universes together until too they age and pass this place onto others.

It is sometimes hard to realise that I have to let go of my role. After all is not a lot of who I am based on being the one that created the gravity that kept all these satellites of mine spinning. What mother would not feel strange to let them spin off into their own space and realise they can quite easily do it for themselves. Some may even say I have held on too long after all my eldest child is 36 and my youngest will be 27 in December. I suppose that really it has been quite a few years of letting them go, one at a time, but suddenly my baby has been out their wandering the solar system on his own for nearly 12 months. He seems to be going a really good job of it too so why did I worry so much.

Of course there are still times when I so want to pick up the phone and say "oh I wouldn't have done that in that way", but who I am to say such a thing really. I have made many mistakes over the years and no doubt will continue to make many in years to come. One thing I am sure of is that all of us learn from our mistakes at some time in some way. It is not to say that there aren't also times when I cringe at some of the things that they say or do, but they are a generation unto themselves, just as we were and our parents and grandparents before. I am sure that each generation of parents have felt the same.

I love the fact that I have a strong relationship with each of them that they still can ask me for advice if and when they need it. I am still happy to help each and every one of them if and when I can because they will always be a part of my universe. And so I suppose rather than looking at it as my universe getting smaller, maybe I should look at it as my universe getting larger but just that instead of being a the centre I now can move out to the outer reaches and enjoy my time basking in someone else' sunshine.

Sorry, I seem to use strange analogies for my thoughts - lion prides and universes but it makes it easier for me to put into words my thoughts.

I Am Truly Blessed

Somewhere at some time I must have been soo good that the universe picked out the very best and sent it to me in the shape of a man.

This man cherishes me so much that sometimes I feel that I am not worthy of his love, after all I am not perfect.

Last night after 3 days of gastro and being cooped up in a house that began to feel like a prison I expressed a wish to go for a drive to the beach to hear the ocean and be in the moonlight. Even though he was tired from a busy week and the fact it takes 40 mins for us to get to the ocean let alone the 40 mins to get back - without even a hesitation he made it so. Then when we got there he stood and cuddled me against the night breezes as we leant against the fence and watched the waves roll in and stood in the glorious moonlight, and in all truth held me up as I was still feeling a little shaky from being sick.

All week when I have been feeling down he has given me cuddles and kisses even though he could get sick too, he has stroked my forehead, held my hand and just been there.

This man is my protector, my lover, and completes my soul. For that I am truly thankful.

Its All About Balance

I had a comment on my Feeling Good post that working with Simon had helped and that I was feeling better about myself.

This got me to thinking - I would never say that I have felt bad about myself - my weight yes - I feel bad about that all the time it is the one real frustration of my life.

However I am very comfortable with who I am as a wife, mother, lover, daughter, boss and grand-mother - sure I would love to have more time to spend on all these parts of my life and sometimes one part will get more than the others just because it has to. And yes, there are things that I have done that I wish that I had done differently but I'm sure that is so in everyone's life.

For a time when I went back to work I used to beat myself up about not being a 'stay at home Mum' - as that is what I thought I would always be - I was very happy with that me. But the economy forced me back to work - it was that or lose our house. But going back to work also gave me a new me, a me that I could be proud of that wasn't tied to someone else. As a mother at 17, I hadn't found that part of me before starting a family and it was a nice surprise to realise that I really did have another side to me Of course my 'Mother' side came with me too and I am often referred to as the 'Earth Mother' of our Unit. Because that is intrinsically who I am - I am a nurturer.

What working with Simon has done is made me re-look at the balances in my life and what has shown up is that I for a long time have not been allowing myself any me time or space - sounds selfish I know - but in this fickle thing called life sometimes you can become so concerned with not hurting anyone's feelings and always being their for everyone else that you forget yourself. Then you end up like I was, totally emotionally exhausted. In that state you are of no use to anyone. This has blocked certain meridians in my body that we having worked together to unblock.

Now Simon is not a psycho therapist of any kind, what he does is read the body's messages and articulates the messages to me. Sometimes it maybe a word, sometimes a phrase and sometimes it will be a phrase I need to repeat to make myself acknowledge what the body is saying and that I am allowing myself to let it go. I know it sounds weird but it works for me. I don't always get the message straight away, sometimes I have to go away and think about it. There have even been times when I have said no that is not right to Simon or I don't know what you are talking about, but then over the next day or so I have an insight or a memory pops up and I go okay yes you are right.

However the one thing I do know is that if I want to continue to nurture those I love then I need to keep the balance so that I allow myself time in the scheme of things. I also have to allow myself to say no and not feel bad when I do.

So to the ones I love most dearly, please allow me that time, most of you I know are hearing me and are already doing that and I appreciate your understanding and love.

And a special thanks for my children for your concern this week when I have been so sick, your daily calls just to check up on Mum have meant a lot to me. It warms my heart when the love that I have given comes back to surround me.

The Lioness

As a mother, from the moment you give birth, there is a strong sense of defending and protecting your child from everything at all times. Much like a lioness protecting her clubs - sometimes from the pride (family) itself.

The lioness within me has always been strong, my children (and now grandchildren) are the most important things in my life. I will always try and protect them at all costs. That sometimes means defending them to and from other members of our pride - the lion, the other cubs and the older lions still with us.

Trying to be the defender of all especially when it is within the pride itself is an interesting exercise. Sometimes the defence of one may cause harm to another, not the best outcome and not always what is intended. But being the lioness within the pride means that often you know more than the lion, the other cubs and the older lions, as you are trusted with secrets and truths sometimes to painful to share with anyone but the mother lion herself.

That is not to say that the lioness can not occasionally expose her claws to her young, even the most even-tempered lioness can be pushed to her limits (and that surely is not me). She also must instill a sense of right in her cubs and sometimes this means some tough love must be dealt out.

But there is one thing that this lioness is confident in, her cubs know how much she loves them, and how much she would move heaven and earth to make their lives perfect.

Even now my cubs are all grown into proud and strong members of the pride, this lioness will have their backs and that of their children. She will always be their defender, with her lion at her side.

All know that the lion may think he is the king because of his brute strength and ability to provide but it is the lioness that holds the real power, for it is she that holds the keys to the lion's heart and tempers his strength with her compassion and love.

So my cubs, be kind to each other and yourselves, each of you (male and female) has inherited this lioness' strength, compassion and love for it was instilled into you from birth. I see the way you protect those you love and I am proud.

The Happy Face

I find it interesting the we as a people are taught to put on faces, so to speak, to present ourselves to the world. It is something that some of us learn at an early age while others take a little longer and maybe a small percentage never learn at all.

Most of us put on the happy face to go out and meet the world, while inside we may be feeling sad, or angry, or bewildered or the like. But it is the happy face we pop on as in society other people really don't want to know how you feel. Your close friends and family might, but sometimes they don't want to know either. And so the happy face means that they are not confronted by what we really feel so they can walk on. Trouble is they have their happy faces on too.

I often get comments from my massage therapist that with my problems she doesn't know how I smile so much, well I suppose part of it is the happy face I put on in the morning as I leave the house to meet the day after all I really don't want to burden all and sundry with my problems but another part is my glass half full frame of mind. If I can smile then just maybe I can convince myself today will be a good day, quite often works as well.

I wonder to if we have faces that we put on for certain people in our lives. Is there a certain person that makes you feel like you should be the good child - always perfect. Does that mean that when you get older you are still fulfilling that myth. After all, none of us are perfect all the time, just like none of us are happy all the time either.

Should we as a society be more accepting of how people really feel. Or does that make us too uncomfortable, is it not easier to put the blinkers on as we walk past and assume that the person behind the happy face really is happy.

Autumn

I just love these crisp Autumn mornings here in Perth, I actually get to put my coral fleece dressing gown on and not feel too hot. I can bask in the sunshine and not feel like I am getting burnt. The dreaded easterly winds are now down to a gentle breeze.

Change is coming, you can feel it in the air. Winter is not far away with its rain and gales, but on an autumn day like this my soul and spirit are refreshed.

How I wish it could be autumn all year long.

The Written Word

Oh how the written word can be used as a sword to cut someone down to size just as it can be used to raise someone up and give them encouragement. What we need to be careful of is how we use the written word and how we ourselves read the written word.

All of us learn in different manners, all of us read the same words and understand in different ways - one can write a message to try and help someone avoid making the same mistake over and over again, and yet the recipient of the message sees only that someone is passing judgement. Doesn't matter how well you write, when you take the body language or the voice expression out the equation - then the preset mind takes over. Then the swordplay can really begin and all over what was written and what was read. Both people may have the best intentions but nevertheless harm is done. This is especially so if the 'reader' has a pre-perception about the person sending the email, or writing the blog, or what is said on Facebook.

So do we give up using the written word, I don't think so, but maybe we should occasionally go back to picking up the phone and talking - at least that way we have voice expression as part of the equation.

Here is an example - My mother said to me the other day when I bought her flowers - "oh these are fresh the last lot your bought were on their way out" - or something similar. My comment to her was 'isn't it lucky I don't have thin skin or I could have taken that as a insult' - but being face to face with her I could read her body language and she could then read mine. But what if she had just sent that to me in an email. I would have been righteously offended. What she was trying to say was that the shop keeper shouldn't be selling flowers that only have a day or so's life left in them as there is no way that I as the buyer of the flowers would know how long they had sat in the shop. Obviously if they were dead or totally wilted I could have seen that, but flowers quite often look good one day and then not the next.

Another example is a letter I received from my much-loved grandmother not long after my 21st birthday. This letter was sent supposedly with love - well it was signed that way, but it was in fact heart-breaking for me and meant we did not speak for a long time. I read it as her judging me, while how she had written it (her perspective) was that she was trying to encourage me to be a better person.

Hence my qualifier in my welcome message - no offence is ever meant, but that does not mean that none will be taken - that unfortunately is the humanness in all of us.

Feeling Good

Well things are finally falling into place and for the first time ever I was able to lay on my back for a whole hour of kinesiology with no pain - that's right none. That was on top of yesterday spending at least an hour and a half on my feet shopping with my daughter at Ikea - no pain in my lower back or leg at all (pity about my feet but that is another issue which hopefully Simon solved today).

Then I went to have my massage straight after my appointment with Simon and Louise is over the moon about how nice and supple my lower back was and the huge knots that where there (she called them slabs of concrete the size of dinner plates on my very first visit) have broken down to tiny little spots which when she massages very easily smooth out. My right shoulder blade also had a huge knot behind it and over the last 3 weeks she has also worked on that and today again just a small little stubborn knot.

Simon also said I was glowing today, the best he has ever seen me - my eyes were bright, my skin looked good and he said that if he could read my aura we was sure that would be glowing too.

Now I wonder if it is because I also went to the hair-dressers this morning and she blow dried my hair straight rather than my curls - maybe that made me glow!

But no, I actually do feel a lot better, in fact I feel great.

I think it is a combination of the kinesiology with the massage plus the fact I have cut down my work hours somewhat then combined with the fact my hubby is home in Perth next week (which has me smiling), then I have the first Easter in a long time with all my family in one place. With all the planets in my life coming into alignment why wouldn't I be feeling good.

Putting It Out There

Well having a public blog is putting it out there in the universe and it is something I have chosen to do. I have commented earlier that I don't always write as much as I want about certain things so as not to make my family and friends uncomfortable if I broach a subject that is sensitive to them. I have however always tried to be honest about how I feel.

I sort of have forgotten that anyone can read my blog and comment, I chose to set it up that way rather than moderate the comments by approving them first. Comments I have received so far have been supportive of what I am saying and in some cases I have received support from total strangers which while at first was a little confronting has been very encouraging and gratifying. It is nice to know someone out there reads what you write and makes a connection.

I was therefore surprised to come home last night and find an Anonymous comment that clearly included an insult. Now what I find frustrating is that whoever wrote this comment did not get what I was writing about at all and showed their ignorance by their closing remark (insult). The rest of their comment I considered righteous after all it could be seen that I was publicly crying about something that was said - I didn't write it with that intent but it could be read that way. And maybe I should toughen up and learn to laugh at myself but this particular person's comment won't inspire me to do that as they chose to hide behind being Anonymous.
Just in case other people also don't understand what I was writing about I will explain a little more here.

The Another Boycott post was my attempt to try and explain how I feel hurt by other people's ridicule when they tell fat jokes. It was also because if people who have a public following - like Botica's Bunch continue to enforce the myth that all fat people are fat because they eat too much then the general public think it is gospel too.

I believe strongly that people in the media need to be very careful of what they say and what they do as unfortunately they have more influence on the common people than they should have. I am often horrified when I hear people say things like but I saw it on "insert TV show name" or I read it in "insert paper/magazine name" or I heard it on "insert radio station name" so it must be true. When did we become a race of people that was so gullible. Sure if you hear, read or see something that peaks your curiosity go and research it and find out more but don't just take it as gospel because the media told you so - how many times do opinions and facts seem to change and how many times does the media get it wrong and bury their retractions somewhere deep in their papers or news broadcasts?

Maybe I don't have a sense of humour like the rest of the world but I also don't like jokes that target a persons race, hair colour, sexuality and so on. There are ways to tell jokes without putting other people down.

Anonymous raised the point that that the teller of the jokes that offend me is often the butt of jokes himself. What I think the Anonymous comment maker missed is that Botica's Bunch are a group of work-mates and quite possibly friends that do that friendly type of ribbing and it is part of the appeal of the show. So it is unlikely that Captain Paul would publicly cry about it because 1. he is paid to do it and 2. the camaraderie on the show means that he probably really does find what they say to him funny. After all he quite often brings up stuff so they can laugh at him - again he is paid to do that and most probably encouraged to do so as it is all about the ratings. My work-mates and I also have that same kind of sense of fun and quite often rib each other about silly things we have done in the past but it is between us and does not target anyone else.

And yes maybe I did make it a personal type of post instead of a general comment but hey that was how I felt when it was said so for me it was personal. Did I think I was being targeted deliberately by a radio announcer - of course not but it doesn't mean that my sensibilities can not be offended either on my behalf or other people I know. My post was also about my choice to turn off a radio station if I was disappointed with their content which is what I have chosen to do. So if I want to 'publicly cry' about something then that is what I will do - after all isn't that the whole point of blogging being able to be honest about how things make you feel????