Farewell to Autumn

lizaaitken

Yesterday I took a walk locally to try and catch what I could of the remaining flowers in my local park.  I don’t have a garden, although I do have two window boxes and pots on the front steps.  The window boxes I plant twice a year, summer flowers for my mum and a winter selection for my step father, he was Scottish so there has to be heather.  Both of them loved their flowers, nature and wildlife so it’s fitting I plant for them. I’m on the first floor so I’m hopeful the frost won’t hit too early.

I love nature, you might have got an inkling of this from my blog, but this is new for me, well newish anyway.  There was a time I hated looking at photos without someone in them, I couldn’t see the point, now I’m totally different, I try to reduce the traffic and that includes people.  I thought I would share some of the photos I have taken lately on my phone as a tribute to Autumn.  I’m going to have to hold some back of course for my daily posts 😉

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Lipstick

lizaaitken

The lipstick around the white porcelain coffee cup leaves the mark of the woman who drank from it.  That it is deep and clear and appears freshly applied hints the anticipation ahead, the feint lines tell of the experience of the wearer and the deep red the emotions and desires.  The coffee remains at half-mast with a suggestion that there was not time to ponder over it. The relationship between the cup and the woman was short, she had little time to give.  The cup sits there now in the middle of the table deserted, unthinking, unknowing.  The cup won’t hold onto this relationship, there will be more encounters and after each, the cup is cleansed of the experience.

The woman wearing the lipstick will continue on her way, the lipstick will be reapplied and together they will leave their mark on the world.  The smile given to the child in the pram and another smile again on the next corner to the homeless man as she passes some change.  The frown at the people in the queue in front of her that cause her to miss the early train and the imaginings of the young man sitting across from her in the carriage.  All will be affected differently, but a mark will be left by the woman in the lipstick who touches the lives of the people she passes.  The woman has no idea of the tiny changes she makes in these shared moments throughout the day, how some of these experiences might linger.  Smiles can be delivered at just the right moment without any prior knowledge that the recipient is in need of that smile and a frown might add to the anxieties and stresses of those that already have enough to bear. She wears the lipstick to cover her insecurity, to hint at passion and to give her strength for what might lie ahead.  The lipstick is for her and the courage it provides, it is as important as the high heals on her feet.

At the end of the day the woman looks into the mirror in the bathroom, recalling the smell and deep voice of the man she met, she is caught in the moment.  She wonders too if he would remember the evening with such fondness and silently hopes that he does. She closes her eyes momentarily as she remembers his warm smile, the dimple on his face and the sparkle in his eye. She takes a deep and hopeful breath and removes her lipstick with a soft cloth, looking again into the mirror, the face looking back at her bare and hopeful.  She throws the cloth into the bin for the hotel cleaner to remove in the morning.

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Primp – DP

lizaaitken

Today I don’t feel like primping,

unless you want to Skype.

Today I’m going to stay indoors,

I’m avoiding all the hype.

I’m keeping on my slouchy leggings,

with a baggy T on top.

I won’t be putting on lipstick,

I’m not pulling out any stops.

To primp I’d have to give a dam,

I don’t feel like that today.

So I’m staying in my bubble

and the world can go away.

via Daily Prompt: Primp

The Emperor

lizaaitken

The shackles of time adorn his feet and yet he is young.  He waits patiently for he knows that the gods will not hurry, he is but one in a universe of waiting.  His seat is old and yet warm with the memories of those that have gone before, it will remain in these realms and serve as the throne of another.  Although young in this life he has travelled here before, learning each time but will come again.  The impatient youth of another lifetime went on before him, this time he is patient, knowing, at peace with himself.  He has had company on his travels and left his mark in the places he has visited.  His ghost remains on the earth and the people whose path he has crossed have an indent of his being on their soul.   He is a thoughtful man, when he speaks it is with clarity, boldly speaking his truth.  The eagle, adorned with golden feathers is ready to fly having lived many lifetimes with the man, the bird will wait for his return but for now it prepares its feathers for the next flight.  There are no possessions on this plateau except the memories and lessons of this life reflected in an orb of light in his right hand.  The young man looks into this as he waits, reflecting, thinking and listening to the universe.

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Something I wrote some years back, I’m not sure what I was thinking at the time of writing but found it interesting when I read it back again today.

Finding Love

lizaaitken

Today  I’ll meditate on love,

a love that’s hard to find.

It seems to come right down the list,

on most of humankind.

For wealth’s a bigger topic,

that seems to be the way.

My wish to see more love out there,

I’d love to find it today.

Why is the world so insular,

why do we have these walls.

If we were more kind and loving,

there’d be enough for all

So today I’ll meditate on love,

the love I want to find

I hope that others join me,

those out there who are kind.

*

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Massive Love

lizaaitken

We have to become what we want in the world. If we want love we need to become love, give love and only see love. The world at the moment is in need of love. When we come together with a common goal anything is possible. The world is full of those that follow the masses. It’s time to mass together to create an abundance of love, massive love. 

~ Liza


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Shingle

lizaaitken

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The beach is empty but for the waves that greet the shore, there is a stillness.

The surf rolls in bringing with it the shingle and small shells caught up in the momentum of the moment.  They tumble towards the land from the tips of the waves and fall into place upon the shore.   This happens under the control of the tides, the tides under the control of the moon.  The shingle has no choice in the matter it waits where it lands.  The shoreline sparkles in the sunlight, this pinks and whites, the blues and silvers, the solid browns and mottled are placed on the earth at the will of the tides.

This could also reflect our own earthly lives as we tumble from the womb into families as individuals.  The warmth and glow of a loving family may shine upon us or as if by night the dark and coldness of a family bereft of love.  What surrounds us in our earthly existence is left to chance.  It is what we make of the opportunity, how we relate to those around us and how we blend in or stand out and makes a difference.

Like the waves that hit the shore we will be met with challenges.  Some will throw us up and into the unknown, many will require us to start again – it is eternal.

We will shine in the sunlight, be buried from view and occasionally be left in the dark.  This is the power of the universe we are joined to, at one with.  As the shingle makes a beach and goes on to make land, as individuals we make mankind and influence the future of the earth.

We are connected by chance, but our goal is to become one with the universe by finding ourselves among the shingle.

Second Thoughts – DP

lizaaitken

It’s always the last moment,

that I have my second thoughts.

The minutes have reduced,

from two, to one, to nought.

Then I worry I’m too late,

to ever change my mind.

For I deliberate too long,

it’s just that I’m that kind.

If you ask me if I’m certain,

I never really know.

You’ll see me going back and forth,

do I want to go.

So make my mind up for me please,

tell me what to do.

So when it’s time to cast the blame,

it won’t be me but you.

*

Daily Prompt – Second Thoughts

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Return of my Invisible Friend

lizaaitken

Like a lot of children I had a friend that only I could see.   Although no one else could see her, it didn’t make her any less real and somehow validated our special friendship.  Her name was Reen, well that was how I pronounced it back then, and we played for hour upon hour in the wonderland inside our home.  Reen stayed close to me, she waited in my room while I slept, rocking gently on the rocker beside my bed and joined me at the table for meals, we spent hours at the bottom of the garden in our camp under the old coalbunker and I shared everything with her.  It was Reen that helped me wrap the hedgehog up warm and put him in the dressing up chest for the winter and Reen that taught me not to eat the slugs we found on the path.  When I was having my hair washed Reen would stand by the door watching and smiling as I screamed and wriggled away to the other end of the bath, I don’t recall her bathing but she was always shiny and bright.  When my daddy didn’t come home any more, she stayed close to me at night as I listened as mum cried in the distance. Whatever the weather was doing and however many layers I was wearing, Reen always wore the same dress, with little white flowers on a pale green background with a white collar and cardigan.

I can’t remember when she stopped coming or I stopped noticing, maybe about the same time my little sister could join me in play and moved into my room.  I feel bad now I think of it someone so important, just forgotten.  That’s it with imaginary friends they just leave your imagination one day and that’s it your on your own.  I remember mum telling me how one day we were running for the bus and she noticed my hand held out behind me, like I was dragging something along.  ‘Wait for Reen’ I fussed as we mounted the bus, a petrified look on my face, because I might leave my friend.  Mum told it as if she believed I really did have a friend, even with all the excitement of running for the bus and a fun day ahead, I had not forgotten Reen.  I didn’t remember this and although I had a slight dream like memory of a girl with a pretty dress and curly blond hair, Reen was cast to the back of my mind.  Mum often said she wished she had asked me more about my friend back then, but a busy mum bringing up two girls she let it go as I did myself years later with my own child.

I’m in my fifties now, I’m on the downward path now although still hopeful, and today I walked into the lounge to find Reen sitting on the sofa.  I saw her as I walked through the door just sitting waiting, like your family might, familiar, comfortable in the surroundings and all grown up.   I suppose that would make sense as she would have been growing with me, but she didn’t have the worry lines I see on my face each time I look in the mirror or any of the ravages of time this stressful world brings, she was truly beautiful.  I recognised her immediately, there wasn’t a moment when I didn’t know who she was.  The dress was gone but replaced by a blouse of the same pattern and her face was soft and creamy as I remembered, with big eyes and the gentle smile that was so deep and warm and hair the colour of summer. The shopping bags I was carrying hung heavy on the end of my arms as I stood and watched, holding my breath, not blinking in case she disappeared again.  She smiled some more and I felt safe, I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, with a bubble growing in my throat, I couldn’t speak.  There I was like an idiot, standing in my coat, hair dripping into my eyes, the light still not switched on, with those sodden bags hanging from my arms.

Oh dear god, what a loser I must be to have my childhood friend return at my age.  It wasn’t that I was not happy to see her it’s just that it made me realise what a total bulls up I must have made of things since she had left, had she returned to repair me, put right all the wrongs and untangle all the lies.  She must know, yes, I looked into those eyes and knew instantly she had been with me all the time, I just hadn’t seen her until now.  You know when something is so real, there is not time for excuses, embarrassment, ego polishing or the like, well that was the moment I was caught in.  I bent to put my bags down on the floor, still dripping from the rain on to the waxed floorboards, knowing, as I did there would be a watermark later.  I walked slowly, yet within one held breath to the sofa and sat beside her.  I sat on her left, she was on my right and the feather sofa gave beneath me, this was not a dream.  I might have breathed but I’m not sure as in my mind a breath might have blown her away.  We sat there, comfortable like we had never been apart and a small bit of me realised we hadn’t parted, I had just stopped seeing her.

I want to be able to tell you how we spoke, how we caught up with the time and how I apologized for forgetting her but I can’t.  Because we haven’t spoken yet, she is still sitting there watching as I write this down with my cat Eris, snuggled up comfortably and purring softly beside her.

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