Turns that keep you standing still

Termination letter

Dear Anger and Disappointment

It's time for you to leave.  I'm sorry but now you serve no purpose other than to distract me from what makes me happy.  You paralyse me from moving forward and following those passions that bring me joy.

I know you have good reason to exist, there is no doubt about it, but the fact that you exist will not change what or who you wish would change.  Things and people are what they are, and no eruption on your part will even raise a ripple of effect upon them.  So it is best, for me, that you move along.

Oh don't look at me that way!  I will not forget the events that have occurred but I can make a deliberate strike and fling them to the back of my mind, freeing up the bay windows to my heart that you currently occupy.  How strange that in allowing you to visit, you have actually become an accomplice to those that gave you life.

You and I both know your services should only ever have been on a short term contract; and the fact of the matter is, quite simply, you have outstayed your welcome.  Your company has become tiresome; I want a rest from you and your associates.

Thank you for helping through a difficult time and for giving me a voice; it was both necessary and healing, but your work here is done.  As much as you would like to have changed others, you cannot; but you have helped me see things more clearly.  Good job, go enjoy a well deserved holiday.

Yours Sincerely  

(c) Soasm 24 July 2012 

 

Spinning madness, blurring beauty

Ever feel like you're on a spinning wheel and each time you think it's slowing down to let you off, it suddenly jolts and a whole new cycle of the ride starts up? You get so dizzy with decision making and you reach out to grasp a hand because you feel your body can't take much more but the hand is either not there, or it's really not a steady one and lets you go rather than help you.

I'm not sure the mind is designed to cope with constant pressure (or that could just be mine) and so it wanders off seeking escape.  You could find it leading you to have one too many cigarettes, an extra glass of wine, doing something out of character, fighting an internal war, erecting barriers of protection that others may see as unreasonable, or even sending pain to a part of your body just to take itself away from itself for a while.  In all the madness there will be a little part of you that fights a secret battle to maintain sanity and it will surface every now and again to try and guide you back.  In these moments you will write, or play a musical instrument, draw, read a book or just sleep the deepest sleep you can imagine.

When you wake up it will all be spinning again and you will feel like you are on the ride from hell with everything you love seemingly blurred and you ache for stillness, for silence in your head and your head will actually hurt from all the noise like some strange rock concert where instead of jumping and singing and laughing, you sit curled up with your hands over your ears just wishing it would stop.  If you know this feeling then I want you to remember something ... if you could only see through the spinning blur, there are thousands of other spinning blurs happening all around you; so many others on a ride similar to your own if not spinning even faster out of control. 

Now, out to the side you might see the alternate world where seemingly everyone lives happy, successful, loving lives and you wish you were there;  the key observation here is that in the alternate world the colours are defined ... you can see the yellow, the blue, the green BUT it is only when the colours spin, merge and blur that you can see the purple, the indigo,  the aqua ... the unusual and the different.  You see, without your madness the colours would be defined, but within your madness YOU are defined.

As difficult as it may feel at times, be thankful for the spinning and the blurring.  When it stops you will enter a more peaceful existence like that you see out to the side and wish for; the prize for enduring the ride however is that you will take the extra colours with you.

(c) Dianne Traynor  

A turn that takes you nowhere .. and everywhere ..

Tick Tock Tick Tock .. do you ever hear this in your head? And then you find yourself wondering “Where am I supposed to be today that this alarm is going off in my head?” 

I seem to always have so much I need to do and then I meander off into some unknown territory and only achieve half of what I originally intended.  Once upon a time I would have been so busy chastising myself over this; now, I simply think “must transfer that to tomorrow’s page of my diary”

Some things must be done no doubt but then so much that we think “must” be done really doesn’t need to be.  Ask yourself “Will the world stop turning if I don’t do (insert here)?” .. “Will nations crumble because I forgot to (insert here)”?  Do you really think that your own personal agenda items are of that much importance to the Universe? What an over-inflated importance we put upon ourselves at times.  I guess I probably sound like some hippy chick high on the euphoria of flower power right about now to some.  Closer to the truth I am a middle life ex-corporate, dissatisfied, unfulfilled, good-natured, hard-working, misfit but then I kind of like misfits so it’s all good.

More twists of circumstance and Universal turns of fate than a sudden mystical enlightenment have led me to how I now find myself thinking and what/who I am finding important and essential to my daily meander through this life.  If, as I sit myself down to rest of an evening, I can feel I have given of myself to add value to someone else’s day; I have found something ridiculous to laugh at; I have written; I have read; I have achieved perhaps at least one thing on my to do list and I have made someone smile or feel less alone, then I am considering that a pretty awesome day .. job well done! Snaps to me! Ha ha ha

There was a time when I wanted it all – the flash house, the fancy car, the great body, the “important” career , and I got it to a large extent; how strange that I still felt something was missing.  Then there were the countless times that I lost it all through love or stupidity, not mutually exclusive mind you; how strange that this was when I found myself.   Surprise, surprise, life actually went on and, as difficult as it may have been at the time, it did lead me to a new understanding that sits very comfortably with me.  Oh I still like the nice house, the comfortable furniture, the computer, the mobile phone, the (insert here); but now, if you take it all away from me, I simply reach for a pad and a pen and look for a way to manage to stay warm regardless. 

So my early morning wake up call this morning was a smile at the knowledge that I am a lucky girl indeed to now know without any shadow of a doubt that none of the “trappings” define me; nor do they impress me in others. In fact, when I see, hear or read people bragging about their “toys” or “wonder achievements” I actually find it rather boorish.  Share with me your joys, your compassion, your struggles, your moments of appreciation for being here, your pain, your love and I will ensconce myself enthusiastically in your story; brag to me, flash shiny photographs at me, blurb on about how awesome you are or any other generally tiresome endeavour to elevate yourself above the masses, some sad attempt that you may feel superior in some bourgeois way and, oh dear, I feel a yawn coming on.

I guess the upshot for me is that when the Universe decides to throw me another curve ball, instead of feeling “What else? Why me?” – which I still will momentarily because I am only human – but after my self indulgent piteous moment, then I might just sit quietly and ask myself “I wonder how much stronger I will become after this one? How much more centred? What new levels will I reach?” and simply embrace the challenge and look forward to the respective reward that will undoubtedly ensue.

Let’s Twist!

© Dianne Traynor 7 July 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHQ_aTjXObs&feature=related 

The turn that took me home

I could not say that I have always known I wanted to be a writer.  I dabbled at around the age of 30 penning lyrics to a song and commencing a novel, my life story, but the wounds were too deep and the process too painful and so it was shelved.

Scribblings filed, life went on – marriage, child, divorce, partnered, betrayed, partnered, abused and then finally, at age 50, chosen time alone – chosen being the key.  Many strange events took place over the first twelve months, unexplainable things that I will not go into but suffice to say, one day I was literally guided to pick up a pen and write.  And so began the hours; it just came by itself, I would see a photograph and the words would appear; a flower and a thought about life; a breeze would hold a poem and words would come to me in the middle of the night.

I never thought to criticise my writing – everything else, but not my writing - because I did not consider myself a writer; I had no training just an unstoppable need to release the words, a love of expression and a growing desire to write more and more.  

And then one of my poems reached a girl who had been abused as a child and she wrote me, thanking me as she finally felt she was not alone, someone understood, and she had wept for she had been granted freedom from the pain.  And I knew.

© Dianne Traynor

Sometimes even a right turn can go wrong

Sitting under an umbrella enjoying a fabulous steaming black coffee and a delicious slice, I watched the cars travelling by - some with purpose, some annoying the other drivers as they crawled along at a snail’s pace looking for a park – and my mind drifted back to my marriage. 

 

Divorced before our girl turned one, some nineteen years ago now, I will never regret my marriage.  We have the most beautiful daughter and I believe we truly loved each other, with good reason I might add; we made a good team.  I smile as I think back to the little notes my husband would leave me; to how we met; to the laughter we shared and the fun we had; to working together; to the ridiculous days of backyard cricket and hiding the dog in the wash basket; to the way we planned our wedding. 

We chose to have our wedding on a Thursday night with only family and extremely close friends; the ceremony held at a beautiful historical manor with a pianist playing Unchained Melody as we walked down the sweeping staircase together; we honeymooned interstate for the weekend and then to all our other friends we sent out invitations to our Engagement Party a week later.  During the night we presented the Wedding Cake and shared with everyone that we were, in fact, already married.  It was a cool way to do things and the memories are good ones to hold onto.

We were very similar in a lot of ways; one trait our girl holds us accountable for is our firey tempers, of course we both deny having them! Ha ha ha Our girl often says  “What hope did I have!?! C’mon on!” Ha ha ha  We were both intelligent, a bit quirky, liked to work hard and play harder.  When we had our gorgeous baby girl things changed, maybe we weren’t ready; more likely I have come to believe we both let our respective mothers interfere.  Unfortunately I became very sick about the six month mark and it was a long haul through to the birth, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat! I wasn’t coping, he wasn’t coping and we had voices in our ears. By the time I was finally able to leave the hospital and come home, there was a crack in our armour although I am not sure that either of us was prepared to admit it.

For me, the first six months of motherhood were horrid, I had not a clue what I was doing; I didn’t know who I was; I felt totally lost and disorganised and I called on my Mum a lot for help.  If I had my time over I would do it so very differently; not that Mum wasn’t wonderful – she was – but on reflection, it should have been OUR time as a family and I should have turned to my husband more. As for his mother, well she caused more than a few arguments between us.  I remember asking him to talk to her but, for whatever reason, he couldn’t.  Now I am not saying that either mother deliberately interfered, they were excited too.  What I have come to believe is that neither of us leaned on each other enough. Perhaps it was the fear of the unknown, I don’t know; what I do know is we let others’ voices into our heads instead of only listening to each other.

When our girl was about eight months old my husband told me he wanted to end the marriage.  I was hormonal, angry and devastated. I recall driving to work and I would cry all the way there and all the way home, every day.  The bank I was managing was in a shopping complex and as music played over the system, I would dread hearing Unchained Melody.  Murphy’s Law it seemed to be played repeatedly and I would have to excuse myself to the bathrooms where tears would flow like a river trying to find its way home.  

So life went on, I took a new position and moved to the Peninsula.  He was not happy that we had moved from the City and we could never seem to talk through things without getting into an argument.  At the time I simply thought he was being an ass; thinking back I wonder if he was merely hurting as much as I was.  Anyway, our divorce was finalised and that was that.  How I wish it could have been different, especially for our girl.

Although many hurtful things have been said and done over the years, I am grateful that my girl has two beautiful sisters from his second marriage and a sense of family. We didn’t see much of them once we  moved to the country but now our girl lives in the city and they are making up for lost time. Father and daughter have formed a strong and loving bond for which I am eternally grateful. I miss my girl terribly but I feel absolutely blessed that she has her father to support, encourage and guide her.  A huge thank you wings his way.

When my girl was home for the weekend recently, we shared wonderful memories going through old photo albums of her father and I ... before our marriage, during our marriage, with our girl; we laughed and laughed at some of the ridiculous happy snaps.  She copied some of the photos onto her mobile phone and text her father; I am sure he must wonder why I would have kept these photographs but I am so very glad I did. Our girl now knows with complete certainty that there was a time when her Mum and Dad truly loved each other, were very happy and that she was born of love and is our greatest gift.

My marriage was most definitely a right turn, it just took a wrong turn along the way.

To our girl I say “I loved your father very much and in a lot of ways, I always will”

To my ex husband “Thank you for our beautiful daughter and for the treasured memories”

© Dianne Traynor

Twisting inside out - the “Goody Two Shoes” approach

I’m sitting on the porch and it’s cold but it’s fabulous; the air hangs with heavy fog, much like I have experienced my mind to be of late, and the light shines on my pad like a guide to my erratic thought patterns that are slowly becoming manageable.

Of recent times I have found myself incredibly angry, disappointed, frustrated and, to be honest, venomous toward others who I feel have lacked compassion, care and love; not only toward me but toward someone else I care deeply about.  This morning I feel as if I have spewed up all that is dark from within and the lightness is incredible.  Now before you start thinking I have “seen the light” and become all forgiving and accepting, it was more a “why should I give a fuck about you” kind of moment.

Like an eraser on a blackboard, or a landlord serving a summons on bad tenants, I choose to wipe them out of my days and nights for there is much my mind needs to concentrate on and they are not worthy of encroaching into that precious space.

Duty – four little letters that can cause utter chaos and havoc in a loving kind heart; a feeling that you must always do the right thing by all and sundry.  Well I think duty, when it comes to your inner circle, should be defined in terms of reciprocation, devotion, compassion and honesty.  If someone has not shown any of these traits toward you, regardless of relationship, do you owe them a duty of care? I don’t think so.  You see, I thought – or should say felt – you did and it was eating me up like a tiger from inside out because I could feel no respect.  So as I lived by my values and my beliefs, I was trying to assimilate their lack of values into my system and still care; it doesn’t work, it turns black like venom and it changes you against your will and, instead of achieving what you were aiming for, you turn into someone else ... someone like them.

I am always reading that it is not someone’s actions but your reactions to their actions that matter. Now there is no doubting this is true but you would have to be a cold hard bitch for some things to not upset you or get the better of you at times.  Are we supposed to be robots, devoid of emotion? The interesting thing is that lack of action can be just as devastating; cold hard nothingness, complete lack of care.  Now if this didn’t bother me or upset me, then I have just become that cold hard nothingness that doesn’t care.  So I choose to FEEL my reactions to their action, or lack thereof, BUT then I choose to throw it away like the garbage it is and move on.  And I will tell you something else I am finding strangely amusing this morning…

... those in question are often the fucking gurus preaching about not reacting – so now it all makes sense.

And by the way, why  would I want to take advice from someone who lacks compassion when it matters, who lacks the heart to love and forgive but preaches to others how they should? Oh, fuck off.

I am a lover of words and I am a great believer in their power; I find people that use words as a shallow tool to alleviate their own conscience despicable.  My mind wandered to the different types of people that inhabit our existence – there are those that could help others but don’t; there are those that cannot afford to help others but do; there are all sorts inbetween and we each have the right to choose which category we fall into and we each have the right to not respect others’ choices. Do we have to forgive those that have hurt us or lack care? Maybe, I am still debating that; but if we do, it is for ourselves rather than for them, because they wouldn’t care anyway in reality.  Do we have to like others’ choices? No, we don’t.  Do we owe them a duty of care? No.

So there you have it, I don’t have to wear “Goody two shoes” any longer; they no longer fit or feel comfortable.  Slipping on my more comfortable apparel, I accept that I am totally alone and I am okay with that.  I believe the Universe will protect me, she has done a damn good job so far.  The door is open ...

© Dianne Traynor  11 June 2012

Turning in circles

The low hum of chatter from the café across the road, followed by the clink of a china cup at the little restaurant where I am sitting, breaks my meandering thought pattern.  Laughter echoes through the slight breeze and I envy those sharing a moment with friends.  I find myself alone on a regular basis these days, apart from the never-ending cups of tea and visits to the hospital with my elderly mother whom I care for; it is draining, exhausting and the most emotionally and financially expensive endeavour I have known and my life feels permanently on hold.

Over time I have withdrawn, both from people and into myself, due perhaps to a feeling of helplessness or perhaps simply plain exhaustion from the position I find myself in; or perhaps because I am simply bored of selfish people. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sitting here feeling sorry for myself but rather enjoying a long black coffee and a gluten free pear and hazelnut tart but wondering how the hell life came to this.  Ever the Optimist I tell myself daily:

“Although the difficult takes time, the impossible just takes a little longer”

This quote has been such a source of strength for me since the day I first listened to a seminar of one of the most inspirational and courageous souls – Art Berg – to have graced this planet.  Whenever I find myself thinking the odds are stacked against me, I remember his story and tell myself to just “STOP” and I replay his incredible fight for life in my mind.  Earlier this morning, I watched a clip of another beautiful soul, taken on Christmas Day at the tender age of 18.  His whole life ahead of him.  Enduring 4 heart attacks in his short life, he was so positive and so accepting of what lay before him.  I ask myself, what right do I have to complain? NONE!  I am still here, I can still enjoy the rustle of the leaves and the chirping of the birds; whilst I can do that, there is hope.  Hope to overcome, hope to explore possibility, hope to find my place and purpose, hope to meet the love I will grow old with.

Today, a strange feeling is seeping from my pores. I’m not sure where this feeling is coming from or what exactly has triggered it.  Is it a kind of premonition of something about to occur? Strangely this happens to me, it has since I was a very young girl. Think me odd if you like, I no longer care, the truth is I experience feelings of connectedness to events that, at the time, I do not know are happening and I am left curious as to the meaning of these strange and unsettling sensations racing, or slowly surfacing, to only discover the reason sometime shortly thereafter or, at other times, much later on.

Despite all the difficult turns, I realise I am slowly taking steps to build the platform for the future I desire and, a little at a time, I am throwing caution to the wind, taking risks to believe I have something to offer the world and every time, every day, when someone I care about disparages my dreams, practices the art of criticism upon me, reminds me of their view of my uselessness, turns a positive into a negative, I take a walk amidst nature and tell myself “They are wrong” and I remind myself that I am a good person with a huge heart that has much to share with the world.

If anyone was to ever ask me should they care for their elderly parent, my answer would be an emphatic and resounding “NO”; the cost is too high, in real terms financially and unquestionably in life value.  What price do you put on your own life? If you care for a parent, your life is stolen from you, no ifs, buts or maybes.  I offer no apologies if I sound harsh; truth is truth.  The other truth is that you become filled with anger at your siblings that seem not to care and go about living their lives leaving you to simply deal with it all; it is like a poison that gets into your blood and works its way through your entire being.  Currently I am working on an antidote and although others may not agree with my methods, they are working for me and this is about survival, mentally and emotionally, so perhaps all is fair in love and war when it comes to life.

Right now the doors are closed to where I want to be; I have however chiselled a crack in the wall.  I put my mind’s eye up close against it and I see a different time, a different place, music, laughter, love, nature and creative pursuit and I remind myself of the first thought that came to me upon waking to this New Year…

“I have a good feeling about …”

© Dianne Traynor