daily-prompt – Page 6 – lizalizaskysaregrey

A Dash

July 3, 2017 lizaaitken

A dash can be so many things,

like places we dash between,

or just in the dash of a moment,

space between our dreams.

Dashing ahead for the future,

while covering up all the past,

a word crossed out on paper,

love that was meant to last.

Feeling a dash of excitement,

at the start of something new,

while bubbling to the surface,

from right deep inside of you.

A dash between the years too,

from our birth until our death,

the little dash not saying much,

lets put our friends to the test.

A dash of darkness in the sky,

or the sunshine poking through,

both of these are dashes you see,

when we can’t see only blue.

I’ll take a dash of sugar please,

if I’m tired and fighting sleep,

and dash is almost impossible,

if the hill in front is too steep.

See the dash is quite universal,

used for happiness and strife,

just don’t use it on the pathway,

as you travel through your life.

Passenger

July 1, 2017 lizaaitken

I hate to be a passenger,

to me it is so very wrong.

It’s so absolutely boring,

the road goes on and on.

I’d prefer to be the driver,

I have something to do.

Unless I want a drink or two,

I’ll give the keys to you.

I’m okay on an airplane,

I don’t have a pilots skills.

I wouldn’t want to fly,

I don’t have wings and bill.

I like to see a road sign,

I can’t see them up in the sky.

So much traffic up there,

you have to ask yourself why.

I’m okay being carried,

when I’m tired and worn out.

Lift me up into your arms,

I’ll come don’t ever doubt.

I’ll close my eyes and hold on,

I’ll whisper in your ear.

I’d always be your passenger,

don’t drop me, is that clear.

A Snack

July 1, 2017 lizaaitken

You can’t beat a good old cornish pasty by the sea. Warm out of grease proof paper it’s a fine snack

I don’t eat meat, so although the traditional Cornish Pasty is meat and veg, mine was vegetarian. I ate this in the picturesque village of Mousehole at the southern tip of Cornwall, not far from Lands End. Years ago miners used to take these pasties down into the tin mines, they would have meat at one end and a desert like an apple filling at the other.

As a youngster I insulted a Cornish woman when she asked me if I’d ever tasted a proper pastie before. I told her of course as they were sold in every chip shop in London. I had to go around to her place the following day to taste a proper one and I must admit, they are nothing like the soggy excuse of the pasties I’d had before.

I have favorite snacks wherever I go, in Spain it’s Pedron Peppers, I’m over the moon you can buy them easily in the UK now. These little peppers are fried in olive oil and salt until they blacken and served as a tapas. Every now and again one of them is very hot and there is no telling which one, it’s a good idea to have a cold beer on the table!

I’d always rather savoury than sweet, I would always have a starter and a main that a pudding but some times I go all out and have the lot!

I just bet tomorrows daily prompt is diet!

Es Vedra

June 30, 2017 lizaaitken

I was drawn to Es Vedra like a magnet

Es Vedra is a rock off of the coast of Ibiza, it’s uninhabited apart from birds and wild lizards and is said to be the third most magnetic place on the planet. Although not everybody agrees with this, compass readings go crazy and homing pigeons get lost flying over the island.

Es Vedra has a number of myths surrounding it, it is said to be the home of the sirens and sea-nymphs who tried to lure Ulysses and also the birth place of the Phoenician goddess, Tanit. A number of UFO’s have been sighted in the area and legend has it that the rock is the tip of the sunken City of Atlantis.

Ibiza has a reputation as a party place, full of clubs, a place for the young. Ibiza is also famous for hippies with it’s chilled atmosphere and spiritual vibe. Es Vedra is a must for those spiritually inclined, it is a place of meditation, awakening and holds a magnetic energy. The rock is supposed to hold a high level of energy, similar to that of Stonehenge and the great pyramids.

Being in Ibiza I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to visit this place and set off on a bus to find it. It was what would have been my mother’s birthday and I thought it fitting to visit a spiritual place and take a long walk on my own. The bus stopped a few miles away the day I chose to go but I thought the walk would do me good, mum loved a walk.

I got closer although the walk took much longer than I had anticipated, about five miles I think and in 30 degrees. I reached a small cove near to the place but was unable to see the rock because of the cliffs surrounding the cove. I asked the bar manager if he would mind calling me a taxi for the final part of the journey. He said it was pointless, the taxi would take too long to get there and it was only about fifteen minutes over the mountain and the trail would be easy to find. It was about 12.30pm by then so I stopped and had a glass of wine to drink a toast to my mums birthday before setting off across the mountain.

I was getting closer to the rock and it certainly looked magnificent, I wanted to get right down onto the beach to see it.

I’m not sure where I went wrong but I must have taken a wrong turn and five hours later I was still walking around lost. I kept taking another trail that would take me around in circles, the terrain was rough and I was wearing flip flops of all things. I started to get very dizzy, I was dehydrated and the wine probably hadn’t helped. I became a little scared, on my own in the heat and wondering if I would ever find my way out. I had no option to call the emergency services, that’s when I could get a signal that was. I felt very stupid telling them I was walking on my own in flip flops, without water or food in that heat. They wanted my coordinates, you guessed it my phone compass had trouble finding me, as did google maps!

I was found eventually and taken in the back of a police car to the nearest town with a taxi out of there. I couldn’t stop apologising in my limited Spanish for my stupidity. Red faced from the sun, dirty from my numerous falls they dropped me off in St Joseph where I picked up the bus back to my friends apartment.

I never did get to see Es Vedra properly but I will return, next time with a companion, proper walking shoes, a hire car and plenty of water. I laugh now, but I think Es Vedra taught me a lesson!

The Tapered Path

June 13, 2017 lizaaitken

There was a natural taper to the path as it wound off into the distance. She was unsure if the path was right, was she going the right way or should she turn back and give up on ever finding herself. She sat for a moment, she’d come so far, given up so much, how could she possibly have chosen the wrong path. She thought about the intersection, the place the pathways crossed. There hadn’t been a sign but she had instinctively felt the path to the left was the one to take. She went back there in her mind looking at the place the paths crossed again, she was searching for clues, she was sure there would be one she had overlooked, nothing but a feeling. She thought about that feeling, felt it again, it had felt right, but now she just didn’t know anymore.

The journey was so long, much longer than she had hoped, much longer than they said and she was tired. It seemed that around every corner there was something else to trip her up, an upturned root, a hidden dip in the path or the enticing calls from the undergrowth. She wondered if the other path had been so treacherous, so unpredictable, she sort of doubted it.

She carried on, wary and tired but at the same time determined. She didn’t want to turn back, didn’t want to retrace her steps over the rough terrain. Hard as the journey had been up until now she felt somehow she was getting somewhere. Even the rest she had just taken, had been beneficial, it had given her time for reflection and introspection. although she didn’t know all the answers, didn’t know what lay ahead, she sort of felt restored and able to continue a little further.

It was around the next bend that she found the opening in the trees. Over in the distance a glistening pond, bathed in the light of the setting sun. Slowly she walked over to the pond and knelt to wash her face. Bending down, she saw herself, saw herself smiling through the glimmering ripples on the ponds surface. At this moment she knew she had been on the right path all along.

Turn Down the Volume

June 13, 2017 lizaaitken

Turn down the volume,

take a while on your own.

Be at one with the stillness,

to find your way home.

To a place of completeness,

at one with what’s true.

It’s while in this silence,

you’ll discover who’s you.

Turn down the volume,

really listen to what’s said.

Not in any real language,

never heard in your head.

Vibrations you’ll tune into,

if your frequencies right.

From a place in the centre,

in the brightest of lights.

Triumph

June 12, 2017June 12, 2017 lizaaitken

Life is full of triumphs, from the moment we are born and maybe long before. Each and everything we do, from the smallest to the greatest steps, each of these is an individual triumph. The things we survive, the things we achieve and the lessons we learn as we walk our path, each of these is a message from the universe that we are going the right way. Our connectedness to all things, our understanding and our striving to achieve the best good, these are our triumphs and the universe applauds.

~ Liza

The Journey of the Flower

June 8, 2017 lizaaitken

Imagine for a moment a flowers journey through life. A journey that begins with it pushing up from deep within the hard earth, struggling to get through the darkness. The dark earth being all that it has known, but on and on it goes, because it is searching for the light. The flower hasn’t seen the light or been told about it but somewhere deep inside of its being it knows that there is light beyond the surface of the earth, it pushes on towards the light.

Breaking through the earth at last it encounters the cold, crisp air of a spring morning, moisture falling on it’s small and fragile body, pushing it down and back towards the earth. But something in the flower tells it to fight, to push on and stand up. The moisture passes along the tiny stem and sinks into the earth feeding it’s roots. Something that might have drowned the flower if it had given up, now feeds and nourishes it.

It begins to grow, slowly at first, but the draw of the light pulls it upwards, the flower now understands where the light comes from, the flower realises this light is it’s connection to all things. Looking around the flower starts to hear the music of nature, whispers, whistles and calls, the flower connects with the rhythm of the nature. Listening to what nature is saying the flower dances in the wind to confirm its understanding.

This is the stage the flower begins to understand it’s journey, it knows that it must open itself, it also knows that it’s opening will also be the beginning of its death. It understands the challenges ahead, but also understands the challenges are necessary to its growth.

The flower can feel a connection to the heart deep within the bud it still holds tightly closed. With the dawning realisation that there is a connection between the light of the sun and the heart, the flower begins to open its petals. Slowly at first, one by one each petal opens to bathe in the light of the sun.

The sun shines down on the open flower, warming and feeding the very heart of it. The flower knows it is near the journeys end but knows that it has reached its destination. Full of understanding and love the flower bows to the sun, bows down to the earth from where it came and closes at last, its journey complete.

Taps

June 7, 2017 lizaaitken

I polish taps and sinks, I don’t like water marks and I’ve been known to follow people into the bathroom to dry the taps after them. It’s crazy isn’t it, I mean aren’t taps supposed to get wet. I hate this about myself, hate the fact that I’m so small minded and that I worry about if taps are shining or not.

I’ve got other OCD tendencies, I don’t like sitting on the sofa, well I didn’t until I sold it anyway. It was a beautiful sofa, big feather cushions, that squashed immediately if anyone sat down. What looked majestic, strong and beautiful, looked like a piece of trash if it was sat on. I sold it because I was downsizing, not because of the feather cushions, I got used to it being squashed. My friends sat on it all the time, to spite me or teach me a lesson, it did I relaxed a little but until the day it went I could never leave the house or go to bed without puffing the cushions.

I take after my dad with these crazy habits, I’m not quite as bad but I’m not good. I like things spick and span, on the surface that is because behind closed doors it’s a completely different story.

For me when everything is shiny and in place, I’m more in place, I function better. So polishing my taps is a treatment of sorts, it clears my mind. I cope so much better in a clean and tidy environment, I can think. Saying that I’ve spent years working in situations of crisis, yet this has never bothered me. I’ve worked with people who have experienced traumatic situations and therefore the environment has often been a reflection of their inner turmoil. That’s probably why I like to tidy my own space as I’m tidying myself up on the inside as I do it.

I’m a bit of a collector, I like nice things around me so being tidy takes time. I like books on art and philosophy, spiritual practices and poetry, I like pictures, mainly of women but nature too. I like to cook and my store cupboards are brimming with ingredients, I like lots of things.

I wish I wasn’t so peculiar, I practice spirituality but part of me is obsessed with the human side of me, the collector, the organiser, the nutter!

I don’t mind a messy garden, I like the fact that all flowers are different, that there is variation in nature. I love to be by the water, I don’t mind that the shore is still wet when the tide goes out. I suppose I’m still a piece of work in progress and the bottom line is I just polish taps!

Never Natty

June 6, 2017 lizaaitken

I turn out okay but I don’t think I’ve ever been or ever deserved to be called natty. It’s a new word to me but my understanding of it is stylish, neat, well turned out. I’m thinking of everything being in place, matching, tidy and put together.

It takes me about ten minutes to get ready, that’s after a bath of course! I have never understood what takes so long, on occasion I’ve felt myself to be lacking in this area, but then again I think life is for living not for preparing to live.

I usually look okay, friends tell me I look good and mum used to say I looked beautiful but I think that’s because she loved me. I don’t put an excessive amount of effort into how I look because it’s not me, I like to look okay but not over done. I think whatever we put on, it’s the whole person that comes through, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sows ear can you. If we want to look good, we need to feel good and feeling good comes from somewhere a little deeper than the surface, I’m hoping I’m more vibrant inside than what I put on the outside of me, I’m also hoping it shines through.

I have fine hair with a tendency to frizz so in a million years that’s not going to be natty, windswept maybe, maybe sometimes just right but never natty. I have a god of good hair, I don’t abuse him but if I want to look okay I might send him a quick prayer. I’ve also a god of parking spaces but he’s not for this post.

Today I’m wearing workout leggings (no I haven’t been working out) and a t-shirt, I could never be called natty and I’m not sure I’m desperately seeking it!

So I don’t want to wear a uniform and I don’t want to be described as natty, I wonder what tomorrows prompt might be 😉