Sorry, it was the silence…

 

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I’m sorry I’ve not been around and sorry I’ve not kept up with your posts. I thought I best try and explain myself and if you know me you’ll know in writing I’m trying to understand myself too.

I love writing, I’m not brilliant, but it’s my therapy and some people seem to like it. I pour my heart out, I’m an open book and show my vulnerabilities. I’m okay with that, I’m the same in person, I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I think with all that went on last year, my moves, my coming to terms with what was happening in my life, I needed time out. I started to notice silence, the silence you find when you let your thoughts drift. Writing for me has always been about formulating my thoughts and understanding myself, but I think I reached a place in which I needed silence more than I needed thought or understanding. Silence gave me a greater awareness of myself, silence is awareness, a natural teacher and worth listening to.

So I got myself a secondhand bike, christened it Tonto and cycled and cycled. I got up every morning before sunrise and cycled out to capture the sun rising from the horizon. I rode in the opposite direction at the end of the day to catch it setting again, I became obsessed with the sun, the sea and of course nature.

I wanted to write but I couldn’t, I couldn’t think of what to say. It’s hard to explain as I’ve never really thought about what to write, I just do it, but I reached a place in which I felt anything I had to say would be for the point of it and without meaning. That probably doesn’t make much sense, it didn’t to me but that’s how it was.

I did do other stuff, I took a course, so did lots of reading. I did write for my course assignments but again felt my heart wasn’t totally in it. I passed anyway so I’m now a qualified clinical hypnotherapist, not to be a hypnotherapist as such I’ve decided, but to incorporate it into my work.

I got to know my dad too, I’d known him for years but this past few months I really got to know him and I’d say he got to know me too. I value that time, we never know how much time we have do we and although my dad is 80 years young, he’s still 80 and says he doesn’t want to live to the great age his grandfather did. He talks about exiting stage left if he ever becomes dependant on anybody, so I’m really pleased we had this time together, I value it immensely.

Here I am today apologising for not being around or keeping up with your work. I hope to, but know there’s so much I’ve missed that I couldn’t possibly keep up with. I felt guilty not being here, as I’ve come to class some of you as friends, it felt like letting my friends down. But I hope you might understand, I just needed that time out.

I’m not going to promise to write daily or even weekly, I just want to ease myself back in now that the time feels right. I’ve two blogs as some of you know and will be focusing on getting to know them both again.

I hope to see you soon and catch up with what you have been doing xx

lizalizaskysaregrey©2018

 

Procrastination

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Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle – Lincoln

 

Procrastination is my middle name,

see I always put things off.

The reason is my perfectionism,

as I worry others may scoff.

My ideas can be quite brilliant,

although I do say so myself.

A multitude of them in my life,

so I’ll need a bigger shelf.

This is where I store my dreams,

just until they take shape.

But then I have so many sparks,

so a choice I have to make.

Which of them is the brightest,

mistakes can’t get in my way.

If you know me and you read this,

I hear what you’re going to say!

~

I wrote this poem while procrastinating again this morning. I laughed out loud while writing it, as it’s so utterly me. I often lose myself in writing while procrastinating, that’s funny too as I know some who procrastinate instead of writing!

lizalizaskysaregrey©2018 

Spirit v Human

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If only I could win the lottery or come into some money, I could do all the things I wanted, I could be kind and spiritual, I could think more of others and make a difference, I could truly live my purpose‘.

Does this statement or something similar sound familiar?

It’s very easy to be spiritual when our human side is taken care of, when we don’t have to work and that human we reside in has everything it needs for us to just concentrate on being a spiritual being. But the truth is, that human does exist, it needs, it wants and it’s more often than not in control.

We are spiritual beings living in humans, we have humans and they have us and although our spirit being wants to spring out, most of us have to take care of the human and it’s personality first.

There are and have been some truly wonderful people on earth, people who’s humans have allowed the spirit through, even those that allow the spirit to lead, but it’s not common. It might be what we strive for, in fact I think that’s the whole idea of us being put together but it’s something that takes many lifetimes to achieve.

If only this, or if only that goes on throughout our lives, the relationship between spirit and human. And that’s it, if we consider it more of a relationship, we might help both parties have their say, conflict resolution, relationship guidance, call it what you will.

My spirit knows, I’m not sure how, call it a knowing that we are destroying the world, we are using up all the resources, polluting the air and seas. But the spirit lives inside the human that turns the light on, fills the car and needs a holiday in the sun. There is an ongoing conversation, should we, shouldn’t we’ within all of us and it’s because we are talking to ourselves, ourselves being the human personality and spirit within.

Many people go through life, totally human, the spirit is there but it’s asleep, it’s given in. It’s not an easy task after all and I suppose, if it is why we are born, it’s not supposed to be. But, if our spirit is strong enough, clear enough, it can get itself heard, the relationship can become more equal.

When we practice listening, we learn, if we sit in meditation or just silent contemplation for a little time each day, we are building the relationship between the two. We are allowing the spirit time to communicate and assisting the human in understanding. Isn’t that what we would recommend in any relationship, time together to create understanding and grow.

When we give ourselves, spirit and human, chance, both can be heard. It’s like any relationship, it needs time and space to grow. When we spend time each day, listening and communing with both parties, we are building the relationship, we are starting to work together, we are in rapport with who we are.

So perhaps it not about that lottery win after all, it’s not about giving the human everything it needs to release the spiritual side of us, perhaps it’s just about the relationship we nurture between the two that creates something beautiful.

lizalizaskysaregrey©2018

Love is just a Word

I’ve been thinking about karmic relationships quite a bit lately. Those people we keep coming back with to resolve or learn something, the people who come along with us to help us with our lessons.

I don’t think they come back for us but at the same time, they are on their own paths too, with their own lessons. It’s just that the paths are intertwined somehow, their lives and ours wrapped up together for a while.

There’s purpose, everyone we meet is meant to be, even the meetings of moments, the person who picks up a dropped glove, the person who stops to let you cross the road, it’s all in the play.

I call it a play, because that’s sort of what it is, all the actors are in place, but we improvise, there isn’t a script, we can decide where we go with each meeting. I can smile at the man who picks up my glove and make his day or frown because the glove is wet and ignore his kindness. Each of these actions will have a different impact, each will change his day.

I don’t necessarily believe in chance meetings, I think they are destined, it’s what we do after, that changes the course of events. If I’m supposed to meet you on 17th November 2017, I will, how I get there will depend on what I do today or tomorrow, you too, but we will meet. Mind boggling, isn’t it, but it’s what I believe.

People come in and out of our lives, some stay, some move through quite quickly, each of them change us in some way. They change us through their actions and our responses, as we do them. It’s all in the plan, the plan we once knew about but forgot.

I think we come here to learn and perfect certain qualities, like kindness, compassion, empathy and love. To learn we have to be presented with situations that teach, through situations that are not alway easy, we help each other.

My dad has always talked about his mother not loving him, he never felt loved by her and she never told him she loved him. My dad because of this has always found it difficult to express love himself, I’d go as far to say understand love in the real sense of the word. That’s funny, it’s not a word, but until we know love it is just a word. I think they will come back together again, I told him this earlier and he looked horrified. My dad thinks he has made an agreement with the almighty that he will be born again with his late wife in Australia, who am I to argue!

That got me thinking about my relationships, who I might have travelled with through many lifetimes. My mum, sister and son for sure as I know their souls and my dad too because that has been a learning experience for both of us. Who else, I don’t know, my best friends, certainly. But what about those that have caused pain, hurt me or betrayed me, what about those I have hurt, yes we will meet again, we will be given another chance to get things right.

I want to make the most of all the relationships I have in life, those before me anyway. I would also like to let go of past hurts, recognise them for what they were and take the lessons with me.

I’ve seen someone in regressions, they are different people but the same soul. I want to stroke their face each time and that’s not something I would do. I’ve not met this person this time yet, I wonder about them, will I meet them or will I have to wait.

Mentally I want to make peace with all those I’ve known, those that have moved on, those I’m no longer in contact with. I want to have learnt from the experience, I want it to be okay, for them too.

I could go on rambling, but I won’t, I’ll save it for when we meet on 17th November 😉

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

Toothbrush

She turned the toothbrush away from hers, she didn’t want the bristles meeting. Those bristles that touched his mouth, she didn’t want them touching hers.

She thought back to when they first met, how she had loved everything about him. she remembered watching his mouth as he ate, remembered how it looked so beautiful, so warm, so tender. But that was then, all those years ago, before the words were spoken, before those words of hate left his mouth, left both their mouths.

They stayed together now for the children, well for Charlie anyway, as Faith had left home now. Shacked up as she was with Jack, in love as she once was herself.

She thought about their toothbrushes, she wondered if they faced each other, was this a sign of lasting love, could you tell from how toothbrushes were placed, the state of a relationship. It wouldn’t be long now until Charlie left for university, another year and she would be free. They had agreed that they would wait for the children to leave, give the last one a year to settle.

She picked up her shopping list from the night stand where she had left it the night before. Glanced through the things she needed to buy and took a pen from her bag. New toothbrush she wrote, in bold letters.

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

Savouring the Moment 

 

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Walking out to the beach I was disappointed to see the tide was in, not only was it in, it was still climbing. I knew this would be the case but came anyway, hoping the very reliable tide time tables were wrong. You see, I just love low tide, love to walk along the shore, through the sand and rock pools just being, the silence and stillness the low tide brings sooths my soul, it slows my breath and allows me to be. The vast expanse of beach provides a sense of freedom I can’t find anywhere else.

I savour each moment on the beach when the tide is out, I walk across sand that was hidden under the sea, I pad through the land of sea creatures. I am in Poseidons territory and yet he cannot claim me for his own as I walk across sand.

You get it, I was disappointed. I sat down on the pebbles and looked at the sea, waves crashing towards me. Closer and closer they came, beckoning me, teasing me. The foam of each wave, like lace, covering the shingle, pebbles sparkling like jewels as it once again subsided. The sea, I felt was dressing the land for the occasion.

I sat and watched, immersed myself in the event and thought about integration, pondered on the blending of opposites. Nature teaches us so much, everything we look to in nature has a different message.

If we spend our lives doing the same thing again and again, we miss out on expanding our minds, we miss moments that are extraordinary. Sometimes it’s right to look at things a different way, shift our perspective a little.

As the sea came closer and closer, I watched the pebbles, once dried from the sun disappear into the sea, only to remain as a memory. A piece of seaweed rolled on the tide to land by my feet, a final bow on the costume.

No longer disappointed I left for home, realising as I did, that each moment teaches us something new, to savour each and every one of them.

Life happens when we are waiting for something else, if we don’t experience each moment, we might miss out. We might be so preoccupied with one thing that we miss everything else.

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Isn’t nature a wonderful teacher 😊

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

 

Jangle

The bells used to jangle as the front door opened, it’s a sound I’ll always remember, a sound that said someone had walked through the door.

The wind chime that hung above the door was one of the last things I took from my mums house after she died. It hangs on my balcony now, rusted from the weather. It doesn’t really jangle anymore, lack of wind on my balcony, I’m not sure, but the jangle of the bells will always remind me of home.

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017