Last October Friday - on the 1st of November! What next?

Reflections on my week.....inspired by :

On the menu:
It's moving into porridge season now. On the menu for breakfast this week has been porridge. Also for lunch on occasion. Confession.....it's the kind that comes in a pot and which you add hot water to! Proper porridge with cream, sugar or salt....that is what is really needed, but the pan puts me off. I always manage to burn it. Any recommendations for a porridge pan that is easy clean? Modern life and working full time, requires easy clean pans and time saving items (I don;t know how working parents do it) ...but there is something missing isn't there?

I am still struggling to eat healthily. Am I making excuses or letting go of perfectionism? I ask this because I secretly know that with a little planning and determination I could keep all of my balls in the air and still eat healthily. For one thing, if I stopped carrying my whole life around with me in my bag, "just in case", then a healthy salad box could fit in it. Yesterday lunch was a garage sandwich, packet of quavers, and mango juice(didn't look at the label); eaten whilst driving to an appointment that I was almost late for. It took me two and a half hours to drive home(unusual); and Mr Stayingawake is away, so tea was a takeaway for one. Not so good. A slow cooker would help there I think!

Out the window:
 It was the first week of "clocks back time". The sun is coming up just after I get up, at the moment. The weather has been dry most days, and the skies have been looking beautiful. I have had to stop myself  from pulling over on the motorway hard shoulder to take a picture. Not practical or safe! So I've been capturing the view in my memory instead. A couple of mornings I've popped out into the garden before leaving, just to breath in the beauty ready for the day ahead.
 

October skies - 2014

 Reading: 
My pile of "currently reading" and list/pile of "to read" grow ever longer. This one is on the first pile...

This one is on the second: 

Watching: 
For an hour or just over on a Sunday night I am somewhere else....I just can't help myself!

 

Listening: 
During the two and a half hour journey home last night, some Halloween classics were played on the radio...including...

and.....

 Good things:

• Weekends
• Family together for dinner
• Facing my fears
• Facing the discomfort
• Feedback
• Medical technology - fragile humanity - feeling humbled and privileged
• Work in my in-tray, feeling supported and appreciating the trust that I can do this
• Speaking from the heart, listening, being included
•  Time alone   

Round and About:

Menopause - don't go sweat in a corner, celebrate sexy and expect the unexpected! 

When I loved myself enough.  at my new favourite place, "Cauldons and Cupcakes".

Losing sight of the shore.  Theresa Robinson blogs about letting go. She advises: "There is absolutely no need to wander down every rabbit trail — “just in case” there is something useful there."

 Sazan blogs from Kurdistan - she writes about life in a changing and frightening world, how things are in her part of this world these days.

One of my favourite bloggers AJ, blogs about visiting museums and her feelings about war. 

Jonathon Jones puts himself in the line of fire as he gives his view of the world war one poppy memorial at the tower. I welcome another story, i couldn't put it into words myself. The poppies are a fabulous piece of art but i struggled to connect with them.

 Gathering my selves -  Susannah Conway

Chris Blattman - 10 hours of walking as a woman in NYC. Frightening! 


 Listen let me whisper in your ear:

 

 

If you always do what you've always done.....

....you'll always get what you've always got.

Mali - Singalonga Saturday

I would sing along if I could speak Tuareg but as I only speak English I have to hum and jig about to show my appreciation. Since I heard this Malian band playing on Channel Four News the other night I've been humming their music and it was on my to do list to track them down and get to know them better. So this morning before I get back to my work for the day job, I thought I'd share a little bit of what I found, with you.

You can find out more about Tamikrest here and below is a little bit of information and a message from them to the world, quoted from their website. I have also spent a little bit of time learning about the situation in Mali , the Touareg people and the region, which, sadly have been back in the news recently as the conflict worsens.

Who are Tamikrest, the band that ex-Tinariwen manager und world music guru Andrew Morgan praised as being “…the definite future of Tuareg music”?
The young men and women are from Kidal in Mali and visited the school in Tinzaouweten. Their childhood and youth is shaped by the Tuareg riots that evolved into a civil war between 1990 and 1995. Many of their friends and family were killed during that time.
Tamikrest decided to play with guitars instead of Kalashnikows. Their goal was to improve their lives by letting the world know about their desperate situation through their music.
The lyrics deal with the situation of the Tuaregs, about a youth without future, the loss of their culture — but also about love: the love of life and the love for the vast expanse of their home the Sahara.
In their youth they played the traditional songs of the Kel Tamashek (as they call themselves) or the revolutionary tunes of Tinariwen. Only later on, when musicassettes were swapped and the internet arrived in Africa, they found new musical heroes like Jimi Hendrix, Mark Knopfler, Pink Floyd or Bob Marley that influenced their songs and sound.

Tamikrest's message

To the world:

The international community must not turn a deaf ear to the possible disappearance of a people like ours, the Touareg, which would be an immense loss to all humanity. The world today sees the suffering of the Touareg, but few are the voices that speak out, or the ears that listen to our people who burn inside with the suffering of entire generations for more than half a century, thanks to the Balkanisation of their lands by nation states that they do not recognize, states which pursue a policy of discrimination against our people with the aim of wiping them out. The living conditions of people in the Sahara, who are poorer than ever, bears witness to this.
The world must listen to the Touareg heart and help them to realise their vision, which is none other than the following: The Touareg demand that the injustice of which they are all victims ceases forthwith, that what is ours by right be restored to us, that’s to say, our lands and the power to determine our own destiny. The Touareg want to live in freedom in their homeland and end of this form of colonisation, which has prevailed since fifty years, in other words, for far too long.
(translated by Andy Morgan)

When will we ever learn?

How many times have the Palestinian people been here?

How many times have human beings been here?

Sir Gerald Kaufman, the veteran Labour MP, speaking in 2009 when he compared the actions of Israeli troops in Gaza to the Nazis who forced his family to flee Poland. That cannot have been something he spoke of lightly I am sure. He also speaks of Hamas as a deeply nasty organisation but stressed the need to make peace by talking to your enemies.

Inspiring work from 21 year old Samira Hashi

One morning last week, I was watching the breakfast news whilst drinking my tea and caught part of an interview with 21 year old Samira Hashi(this is a link to her very informative website). The little snippet I caught of her interview, made me curious about seeing the documentary she had made, about her return to Somalia where she was born. What was it that caught my attention? I only caught the end of the interview where Samira is shown crying, whilst talking with a 21 year old Somali woman who was born in Mogadishu in the same week as she was. Then at the end of the interview she talks briefly and in a very matter of fact way, about the contrast in the life of a 21 year old in London and a 21 year old in Somalia.

 
I think it was her youth and her openness, that caught my attention. The subject matter, is something that we are used to seeing(if not enough and in helpful ways that challenge apathy) on our TV screens. Her youth and honesty, and her commitment to bring about change for women and girls in Somalia, were inspiring. She brings hope for the future. Here are some of her own words from her website about the idea for the documentary and also about how it has changed her.

"As a young Somali who fled in 1990 my age and the war in Somalia was in correlation; we both turned 21 last year. The idea of the programme was to reach out to a young audience that may not have any concept of current affairs or issues occurring on the other side of the world. My journey was mind-blowing as it fulfilled all my desires in gaining a connection with Somalia and grasping a broader concept of its current state. The documentary not only altered my views on my country, it also changed me as a person. My experiences in Somalia has made me more humble than I ever thought as I now appreciate the simplest things that millions take for granted such as; clean water that runs continuously from our kitchen taps. The programme that was once only supposed to be a personal journey, I now see as a platform to bring about change."

Samira Hashi

 You can read more about the documentary "Escape from the world's most dangerous place" on the
BBC Three Blog and it can still be watched on BBC iplayer for five more days. I would like to have seen this documentary on the more mainstream channels, at a time when more people would have seen it.

Samira highlights not only the situation in the refugee camps and for people still living in the war zone, but also the practice of Female Genital Mutilation. I am linking to this article, Forward, Kid's task Force and Daughter's of Eve which are all charities that work to end FGM in the 28 countries within Africa where it still happens, and also to raise awareness about how this abuse continues for children who are now living in the UK.

11.11.11

What is the significance of today? The ones line up like soldiers. We think about soldiers.

Every year I remember. We all remember. The terrible loss of life.

We think about soldiers. We think about children. We think about loss and pain and waste. We wonder if we will ever break free of this cycle of war and hated and fear. Me who has never been through war and cannot imagine what it is like to be in such fear, to have lost my family under such circumstances, to be a child with a gun in my hand, to be a man/woman with a gun in my hand. To lose a son or daughter to war. To witness all of this.

Some people believe that today is a day to re-boot our lives. If only today we can re-boot and refresh on a global scale. No more war. End of. Simple. We (our country) will no longer put money into war. As an individual I will stand up against the industry that is war.

Here are some ways.......and some thoughts.....

Peace Pledge Union

Afghanistan Winter Appeal

Hay Quaker's thoughts

Hay Quaker - How could you be my enemy?

Find out more about the irresponsible global arms trade

Remembering all those who died. In all wars.

Thoughts of death. Thoughts of life.

VII Sonnet: Our Dead

They have not gone from us. O no! They are

The inmost essence of each thing that is

Perfect for us; they flame in every star;

The trees are emerald with their presences.

They are not gone from us: they do not roam

The flow and turmoil of the lower deep,

But now have made the whole wide world their home,

And in it's loveliness themselves they steep.

They fail not ever; theirs is the diurn

Splendour of sunny hill und forest grave;

In every rainbow's glittering drop they burn;

They dazzle in the massed clouds architrave;

They chant on every wind, and they return

In the long roll of any deep blue wave.

Robert Nichols 1893 - 1944

The Aftermath

I read this poem at my Dad's funeral. It seems such a long time ago now, and just lately I have wished he was close by so I could go and visit for a while. My sister said that my words and the poem made everything seem alright. It was a distressing time for us all, the family had been so close to death and illness for so many years and there were some dark shadows in our memories. The loss of our only parent, now threatened the peace of each one of us children who were left behind. We felt it all again. Somehow I was able to stand up and speak at his funeral. I wanted them all to understand him, and to have compassion for him. I wanted them to know that though we had lived with loss and hurt for so long, it was all ok and our parents were still here in our children and ourselves, in the universe around us. Though I truly believed the words of the poem and wanted to find and give comfort, I still wanted my Dad back and was still angry with the world he and my mother had experienced. The world my sisters had experienced. The life that we, each one, had experienced. The questions that were always unanswered.

Like many people, death and I have had too long a relationship. Thankfully, this relationship has become more peaceful these days.

It's strange to look back and realise that, for a while I feared death and longed for it at the same time. A funny sort of tension.

A kind of surrender to the fact of death, coupled with a strong fear of living, that gradually crept up on me when I wasn't looking. All this slowly contributed to draining the passion from me and leaving me sleepwalking through life.

Somehow, and I'm not quite sure it matters how, life seems to have grabbed me once again, and has shaken me awake. I nolonger really fear death, nor thankfully, do I long for it either.

I want it to stay away as long as is possible, as life feels good, and full of energy and passion these days. I accept that death and loss are part of life, but this is a more peaceful acceptance, not a giving up or a despair.

I am at last learning to live, mindfully, to be joyful and celebrate life. To live with strength alongside the bad things in life, with the shadows and the tragedies in my own and in other people's lives. Those of family, friends and "strangers". With the horrors we see unfolding on the news. I grieve. I accept. Feeling helpless still comes of course, but the despair is less consuming. It no longer diminishes me. I take part(almost)fully these days. I laugh and I cry and I am learning to take action, mindfully. I nolonger feel powerless. Or not for long. I have a part to play in the world, in the continuing turning and changing universe with it's light and it's shadows.

This energy and power is most vivid when I am out in nature. I am filled up again when I am feeling depleted and just seeing the beauty and miracle all around is a constant source of joy. I am so privileged to have come to this realisation and to have the time and the space to fill myself up like this.

My thoughts today, are with those not so privileged, with the children forced to take part in war and who see terrible sights and suffer loss that is unimaginable to most of us. Also for those who have lost others suddenly and violently, and who are struggling to make sense of it all and to continue on their way.

A Lullaby on Father's Day

I was going to write a post today about how my preparations are going for the trek and more fundraising efforts. However I got sidetracked with it being Father's Day.

On this blog that has at it's heart my Mother's memory, I am writing about my Dad and listening to a Lullaby today.

I really wanted the next blog entry to be a more upbeat post.Joy and laughter are what I need to be creating in my life right now not dwelling on the past or what might have been. Writing about my family lends itself most easily to feelings of sorrow and regret, however. So let's just say that this will be a brave post. It is here in my heart and my finger tips and so it must be written.

My Father was brave, though I know my sisters would argue that he was in fact a coward. The truth was that he was both light and shadow, as we human beings are. I loved him just the same of course as a little girl and young woman. Later I was angry with him and sad for him, all at the same time when I came to understand him more.

When I am off on my walks just lately, I sometimes think of Dad when he was younger. Apparently he liked to take my sisters out for walks or so I am told.

My sister, the one who these days most likes walking, tells me stories of Dad marching them for miles, on walks around the local area. She tells the story of a Dad who was not kind, and from her words I picture him like an angry sergeant major, who trampled all over his wife and children's hearts.

It is hard for me to see him that way, although I know that his behaviour at times was frightening and bullying. I cannot minimise this but my view of him is distorted, I only saw the light for many years, just as my sister only saw the shadow.

I love it that she likes walking so much and music too. Maybe those marches through the countryside were not all bad? Much of her memory is clouded by all the dark events that happened before my Mum's death. Maybe I can be comforted that my Dad was trying to share a love of walking with his daughters. Just trying to be a Dad the best he could, when his own experience of being parented had been a poor one.

I saw a different side of my Dad than the rest of my siblings. This must have been the person my Mum fell in love with, when they were both so young. A young man who loved music and art, who liked painting and reading, who was articulate and charming. Then an older man with a thirst for knowledge, someone who had never really fullfilled his potential. A compassionate person who understood the feelings of others, liked watching animal documentaries, loved children, travelling and history.

Nothing he could ever do would put things right for my sisters. I can't share him with them now, as the pain and bitterness is too raw for them.

I don't make excuses for much of his behaviour as a husband and father, but I understand something of how he came to allow his shadow to overwhelm his life.

Empire Of the Sun was his favourite film. He was born in 1930 and so the second world war affected him deeply on many different levels. He lived away from his mother for some of his very early childhood. These times were some of his darkest memories but he shared little detail about what happened to him. He remembered evacuees coming to stay with the family during the war but spoke little of his step-father or other memories of that time. He only once mentioned to me the types of discipline he suffered at the hands of the adults who were in charge of his upbringing. He never knew his own father as his mother was unmarried when he was born. I think he carried a great deal of guilt and shame about this, as of course, he would have been a child to be whispered about back then.

The song from the film is a Welsh Lullaby - Suo Gan - quite beautiful. Jamie sings it I think to comfort himself and the young Japanese pilot he had previously made friends with.

I can't watch the film without crying! I think my Dad would have identified with Jamie in the film and he would also have felt for the young Japanese kamikaze pilots sent to their death. What madness is war? I know my Dad would feel the same way I do about the continuing attrocities happening to children throughout the world. He would shake his head in disbelief at how we are still watching countries continuing to send their young people to fight and die and the choices that governments continue to make. All this damage!

Father's day thoughts, love and strength sent to Dads everywhere and to "Dadless" children today.