The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde

Gosh! What a story. Why is it that when a loyal friend dies it is heart breaking?
I would like to tell you this story. I will only be summarising it.
A swallow fell in love with a reed. And all Summer amidst his fellow peers, he courted the reed. Flying low over the water and creating silvery circles with a light touch of his wing.
It soon became time for the swallows to move to warmer climates and his friends encouraged the swallow to travel to Egypt with them. But he was in love with the reed and said that he would stay with her.
As time passed he became tired of the reed accusing her of being a coquette ad flirting constantly with the wind. He was also bored as she did not speak with him and share ideas. Ad so he decided to set off to join his fellows in Egypt.
As the night feel he decided to settle on a ridge to sleep and just as he was tucking his head under his wing a drop of water fell on him. He was perturbed, looking at the clear night sky and bright stars wondering how it could be raining and so tried to settle again. He felt another drop of water and complained about the pointlessness of a statue that didn't shelter him from the rain. And when he looked up what did he see there. The statue of the Happy prince was crying from his sapphire eyes.
H stated his complaint to the Happy Prince who explained that he had been living in a beautiful palace with his family where sorrow wasn't permitted and so he was named the Happy Prince. The Happy Prince recounted " and happy indeed I was if pleasure be happiness. And so I lived and so I died. And now they have set my up here high above the city so that I can all the ugliness and misery ...". (This suddenly gave a different sense of what contributes to happiness - happiness includes taking pleasure from things but is not exclusive to this). As a statue he said that he could see sorrow even with his heart of lead. When he died the courtiers set him up on these high pillars in all splendour of jewels and gold to commemorate the Happy Prince. His eyes had been turned to sapphires and his clothes were a splendour of gold. His gold leafed sword hung from his belt and was studded with the most beautiful ruby brought from India.
The Happy Prince told the swallow about a very poor, sad woman who's son was very ill with fever and crying for oranges but all his mother could bring him was water. He asked the swallow to remove the ruby from his sword and take it to the woman so that she can afford to buy oranges to help her weeping son. At first the swallow resisted the request saying that he needed to rest as he was going to Egypt tomorrow. The Happy Prince asked him to stay just one night and help him with this task. The swallow conceded and did as the Happy prince asked.
Of course the woman was overjoyed and thankful. The swallow returned to the Happy prince and said how on this cool evening he suddenly felt very warm and joyful in his heart. (And of course this is another contributory factor in finding happiness). The swallow was curious about his warmth and the Happy Prince said it was because he'd done a good action.
Each evening this went on, with The Happy Prince asking the swallow to deliver various jewels from him and deliver to people in need. Each time the swallow resisted slightly but agreed to stay one more night.
He flew around the city and was recognised as a very distinguished visitor and felt good about this.
There was a student in his garret unable to finish a play but was too cold too write and he was so hungry he felt faint. The swallow with his good heart agreed to stay just one more night. The Happy Prince asked him to take one of his sapphire eyes. The swallow delivered the sapphire and the student believed that someone was beginning to appreciate his work and now he could make a fire and complete his play.
The next evening asking the swallow to stay one more night. The swallow complained that it was winter and too cold. The Happy Prince talked of a little match girl in the square. She has dropped her matches and this will mean her father will beat her and there was no food. The swallow didn't want to take his last sapphire as the Happy prince would then be quite blind. However the Happy prince insisted and so the swallow did as he was bid.
Returning to the Prince he said he would stay with him always as the Prince was now blind. He sat by day telling the prince of his stories of his travels. The Prince asked him to fly over the city and tell him what he saw. He saw the rich making money whilst the poor sat at the gates starving and he saw black corners with the listless hungry looking out at the streets.
Under the archway of a bridge too little boys lay together trying to keep each other warm. The watchman turfed them away. He told the Prince who said the swallow must take off leaf by the leaf the covering on him. The happy prince became quite dull and grey. The poor became rosier and were no longer hungry.
With the cold and the frost coming the swallow grew colder and colder and tried to keep warm by flapping his wings. He knew he was going to die but had enough strength to fly up to the Prince to say goodbye. The Prince though he meant to go to Egypt. The prince asked him to kiss him on the lips for he loved him.
He said he was dying and that death was the brother of sleep.
There was then the sound of a curious crack and the fact was that the leadened heart of the prince had broken and snapped in two.
The mayor was in the square below the next morning. As he looked up at the statue he remarked on how shabby the Happy prince looked - in fact he is little better than a beggar. And he saw that there was a dead bird at his feet proclaiming that birds should no longer be allowed to die here.
The professor at the university said that as he was no longer beautiful he was no longer useful.
So they decided to put the statue in a furnace and decided what was to be done with the metal. The mayor said that they should replace the statue with a statue of himself.
What a strange thing - the broken lead heart would not melt in the furnace and threw it on a dust heap where the dead bird was lying.
God said to his angels bring me the most precious things in the city. The angels brought him the leaden heart and the dead bird.
God said that in his garden of paradise the little bird shall sing forever more and in the city of gold the Happy prince shall praise me.



G talked about this fairy tale and also the Selfish Giant both by Oscar Wilde. G is quite an extraordinary man and is interesting to talk with. I like it when people can introduce me to new things. He told me that when he read this he cried. I cried in my heart although not actually tears. I can feel the pain just as I did with the Velveteen Rabbit, That connectedness of love between tow unlikely beings. And the injustice of death and loss. It seems so unfair when they had bonded through adversity.
But more than this I can see in this story ways in which happiness is an action from within. Doing things despite oneself and because one can. Doing things for other people and bringing joy to them. Taking care of others when there are so many that cannot or will not. All that kindness and generosity and love. And yet there are so many striving for happiness through pomp and self gain. They appear happy and untroubled but I think they are blinded by their "things" and their ego. They cannot see beneath the surface of themselves and their leadened hearts.
It is heartening that God takes them into the garden of Paradise. And by this I don't know if there is such a place. If it is actual or not. But what I do know is that they died with true happiness, with love and achievement and fulfilment.
I was wondering what it is in me that I feel so sad for their passing. The Happy Prince died with a broken heart. The swallow died for his love of the Prince. is that just the way of things? I suppose it is. His time was up. But I'm thinking that if he'd gone to Egypt sooner he would have lived longer. But in living longer he would have missed out of the happiness of togetherness and love with the prince and the warmth of heart in doing good things for people in need. He would not have shared his experiences and memories like he did with the Prince. I can see that the happiness is there and is a culmination of many things. But that sadness that I feel? Ad the fact that people who are taking and have things even live longer, it all seems so unjust. Yet those people never get a to feel the way the swallow and the Prince felt. They can often by-pass those beautiful soulful things.
It's a battle and it's the battle I've had for a long time. Reconciling that sense of injustice, why bad things happen to good people and vice versa it seems. It's a lifelong project to make sense of and I probably never will until I die.
It is how it is.

Then there is the issue of G. I have enjoyed mulling over ideas. I am uncertain as to his motives and perhaps I need to be clear about my motives rather than concerning myself with what he is wanting or not. I can get easily sucked into the excitment of attention. And I need totake stock of this. Three have been the texts and now this has progressed to phone calls and they are late at night and lengthy. So we are simply mulling over ideas and that's very likely all it is for him. However for me it can mean anything. And this I need to be aware of. It creates unmanageability as well. One, there is the wondering and that in itself causes problems of not telling people that I am wondering because in fact I do not fancy him for what he presents overall. I can see he was probably once an attractive man but today he has a well lived in face and one tired from drinking and angst. Two, his financial situation is not at all sound. Three, his sense of self care shows thourhg his standard of dressing, i.e. dirty old trainers. That may sound fickle but he doesn't present himself as someone who is taking care of himself. However, to get to know as a friend is OK. Within that I need to be boundaried. I cannot talk for hours late into the night. Unlike him I do work and do have studies and need to sleep. I cannot spend hours ad hours chatting as much as I'd like to. I also am not in any way wanting any kind of relationship. So I need to be better around this. If I cannot tell people then I muct not do it.
So from now on how do I set boundaries God without being rude and rejecting him especially as he said that the slightest glance away would be received by him as rejection of him. I want to be thoughtful and that would have meant knowing this in the first place.
He has been in fellowship about 25 years and when I asked how long without drink, he said he struggled for many of them. I understood this to mean drinking and when I asked how long he said 24 3/4. So now I don't know how long he has actually been abstinent and there are times when I wondered if he'd had a drink.
He has been very honest with me abnout events and behaviours within his life and within his drinking and that is something I feel very honoured to have heard. I do not want to create a bad feeling and yet I need to be boundaried.
Please God can you guide me here for the best of me and my well-being and for him and his well-being.
Thank you God. I trust you will show me how from a position of love and compassion.

You know what is attractive about him? His depth of thought, his openness to discuss these sorts of things, the way he draws from little things like films and fairy tales (it appears that he is a man with emotional awareness then), his obvious intelligence, his wit and his laugh. These things are the things that I am drawn to in him. They are there and very real but they are all it is. I need to keep that realistic otherwise I can end up sucked into something blinded by these few things without seeing the bigger picture. And then I feel ashamed of the person because I am ashamed of my selection. I feel ashamed for what I choose that is not good enough for me.
Does that make sense?
It's not the person I'm ashamed of at all. I make no judgement on the person and all those things pale into insignificance anyway so long as I keep in mind that I am not enetering into anything more than friendship.
Of course I make a judgement on what is OK for me but not in a judgement as in right or wrong of them. Am I amking that clear? I probably need some clarification with other people. I know what I mean. I hope someone else will understand me. I do not crticise any individual in my judgement, it is merely of what meets with my own needs and principles that I am judging on.
It wasn't like that in the past though.

Bliss
XX



 

£100

I called my dad on the way home. He asked if I was home but alas I was in the car having completed a family session and finished late. When, however, I did get home and opened the door there was an envelope there, my dad's handwriting. I knew it was money. I had an itchy right hand earlier in the day. Right for receive, left for lose. He had sent me £100 and a little note saying
Bliss
A little towards your expenses.
Love Dad xx
I will keep the note. When a person dies there is no longer any handwriting.
I feel sad. I felt sad as I left work. I've been feeling as if I've been crying for the past few days. It's the physical feeling I've had even though I haven't actually been crying. I just have that exhaustion as I get after sobbing and the taste int he back of the throat.
What do I feel sad about? It seems free-floating sadness and nothing to attach it to specifically.
I feel sad about the relationship with my dad or rather the lack of it. How many times will I need to write that?
And then I caught myself feeling sorry for myself. A cheque isn't what I want, it's a great relationship with my dad. And anger, a cheque doesn't make up for anything. I stopped in my tracks and thanked God for this gift and this sign that my dad loves me. I laughed at the addict in me, £100 not being enough in any shape or form.
I don't think I've mentioned difficulties with finances to him for a while so I don't feel guilty. I have emphasised time and again how hard I work. Partly I want him to approve but mainly because I get home late and he keeps moaning about never being able to contact me.
So stopping to be grateful, which I actually truly am, this £100 can go towards the service of my car which I really was worrying about how to actually afford it. Amazing that he should send this now.
I am scared of course. But also would hope for more than £100 from the Will. God! Why do I think like this. It's greed and evil.
So move away from temptation. Yes it would be wonderful if there is a reasonable inheritance for me. Of course it's far from guaranteed there will be anything for me. In fact why should there be? My dad earnt it so why shouldn't he spend it. Although he didn't earn it all and without my mum they'd have been pretty much up the Swanee without a paddle.
I'm sleepy. I haven't done much of my short story but I've lost the enthusiasm and ideas now. How fast my creativity fades.
I'm feeling inferior and let myself down when a client has stated a preference to see PD. It's amazing how quickly I can be affected. As people will already know G was becoming manic. I had pointed it out to someone. Wow I wrote those last sentences in my sleep. Amazing what comes out. G is not manic and I pointed out nothing like this.
What I was actually going to write is my inferiority. B wants to see PD when he leaves. Of course it's the right thing to do. My problem is my lack of self worth and immediately I take it that I haven't done things well enough or been proper therapist. I work very differently and yet at times similarly as PD. I  have to go to sleep. I am dozing off as I write and may write all sorts of stuff that blows the cover of Step $. I hope not.
Anyway night all and sorry for the gobbledee-gook. I keep dropping off to sleep and carry on typing. Amazing.

Nighty night
Bliss
XX

 

Beyond the war days

I'm so glad my dad called tonight. He is home and is feeling better. T is making a recovery too apparently although her broken arm is mending slowly and will always be a problem from hereon. Poor T. The pair of them have been throughout the wars as my mum would say.
I thanked my dad for calling me and said I was relieved he was home.  He couldn't just take that then saying that he was more relieved than I was. Anyway he called and that acknowledged by V too when I called him back. I had thankfully cut the call short to answer my ringing landline phone. And as I guessed, it was my dad.
I had been speaking with V as he was feeling despondent and wanting to reward himself after a day of training for a Job he's just got. We talked for a while about how to get reward through healthier options other than food. And he laughed when I suggested turning to page 88 of the Big Book and counting down 8 lines and there he would find his line.
Oddly I found it difficult to graphically describe the horrors of where my eating had taken me. It's similar when I try to think about the depths that I sank into with alcohol and drugs. I really have a great denial system.
For the year before I went to visit T, things had been getting worse. I had cancelled at great expense a trip to Peru. My life's ambition. I couldn't go because I was too fat and unfit ad scared that I wouldn't make it at the altitude and the climb. I so wanted to but just couldn't. I was cancelling arrangements and feeling so terrible about myself, my size, my looks. My mood was constantly low. I was lazier than ever really but in self disgust and loathing. I had no clothes and those I did have were to the best of my ability to cover me up. I was having hot sweats, menopause related, but worsened by my waiting and my size. I was often breathless ad couldn't get to the top offices at work without being completely exhausted and speechless by the time I got there.
I couldn't get beyond a few hours without resorting to food. I needed to be off sick every so often to have a rest from trying so hard to be OK with me and for the shame of eating eating eating.I couldn't go to the kitchen area without eating flour products at the shops without buying increasing amounts of sugar products. I was spending a lot of money too.
I just felt awful about myself and frankly wanted to be dead and gone but without the courage to be able to do that. It's difficult to think of that as the same person.
Today I step away from the despondency and the food and the negativity. The food is already stepped away from, one day at a time and through measuring and weighing my food. I abstain from flour and sugar completely. The food I eat is clean ad fresh. My skin and body are very different as the direct result of eating so healthily and non-addictively. I am grateful for that. I can wear all my clothes now and all of them look OK. I have an improved confidence and now can show up for arrangements and become reliable as well as committed. I have a clearer head with room to get to know myself and to deal with situations that once baffled me as they say in the Promises. I don't get it 100 per cent right of course. But that's another thing, the need for perfection is diminishing. I can make mistakes without being frowned upon by myself.
I have a belief that is growing and I show faith by praying on my knees or sometimes just praying where I am in that moment.
Oh I put on 2lbs 2oz. Which was required as I have been continuing to decrease. Despite my initial lack of trust, I know have full trust even knowing her humanness. Thank good for humanity.

I'm so very tired. I have written a little more towards my short story and a little more towards the counselling section of my accreditation. I must send of the membership renewal - just reminded myself. I'll probably forget.
Oh I made a call too to Pete the mechanic. He can do my car this Friday. I have called JB to ask if I can borrow his car. My car is making some funny noises now. I'm worried enough to take action. I hope it's not too late and there is irreparable damage lingering somewhere. Please God ...?
At least I am starting to be more organised about some things. If you could see my flat it's incredibly untidy. It needs a clean too. I don't care though.
I cannot get my study area cleared and ready. I want the course qualifications but without going through the process of learning. Why is that? I'd say because of fear.

I was going two riot about todays development with LK. Things are so much improved. I keep smiling because people make reference to her changes and yet I'm working hard under the water. Everyone sees the flat teas being bashed away at whilst she jets off with some other guy. That must affect him.
Gosh that was written whilst I was falling asleep. I wonder what it was about really? What I was about to write before the dream writer took over my body, was that I am not as calm as I appear ad a lot of effort goes into working things through about my emotions. I do not have those lingering so much then within the group and ensure that I'm doing the best I can do. She takes it as something else. But this time she was jolly.
As there was a flexibility to know that we can all be our different ways and selves and know that the team cannot be split. i.e. any client will not be able to use information from another therapist to affect the therapist being talked about.
It is ridiculous, it's like flipping Kindergarten.

I am hoping to hear from PD sooner rather than later. Poop-di-popp!!!

Right.
Whether one opinion is wrong or not the clients vary from rat to super intelligent. They can get this programme of recovery if only the people will continue going to the meetings. Time permitting.

OK sleepy bye byes for now

Right
Bliss
XX

The Third Man

Graham Greene creates an intriguing opening. Harry Lime has been killed before his friend Holly Martins arrives. A British Major wants Holly out of Vienna by the following day but suddenly there are a number of people interested in Holly.
The intrigue is upon us from the very start and I guess that's what makes a good story. Interest needs to be aroused in the first few lines otherwise the writer is lost in the sea of meaningless words.



Here's my short story so far. Are you intrigued enough?

For many this is a chronicle of converted beliefs, bedevilment, lotions ad potions and witchery. For others, myself included and probably you too now, it’s about vanity, insanity and come-uppance. You will decide for yourself; evil forces or Higher Power yielding justice.

My curiosity was aroused the first time the camper van parked up. It struck me as strange, stopping for lunch on our forecourt, on a trading estate, off a roundabout, on a road leading out of Basingstoke. Not even the centre of the town. They were waiting.

I’m not sure if I’ve embellished my memory with my fantasies or whether later speculation fuelled my imagination but the driver had long dreadlocks. The angle they were parked in relation to the position of my desk, and the distance between us, made it impossible to see her full. She was side on, as they talked to each other. What were they saying? She resembled Tia Dalma in the Pirates of the Caribbean: At the Worlds End, the trader of magical charms and pretty damn exciting.  The other one looked like Kim Basinger. If I were making this into a film Kim Basinger would definitely play her part.

And then of all major surprises I was distracted as I noticed weedy Johnny, as the others called him, took off his thick-rimmed glasses and went over to his North Face jacket.  Johnny was so weedy I used to be amused at the way he sort of walked into the jacket and disappeared, as if engulfed by it. A jacket with skinny, little legs dangling from the bottom. You couldn’t even see his head. He just fed the fodder for the lads to take the piss. I did feel sorry for him sometimes but asked for it somehow. I used to have to curb my chuckles. I was the only one he ever spoke to at all. He had to talk to me really to report his movements for the week. They were always the same, “onsite”. He had no sales visits to make, he didn’t nurture any deals with any of the local businesses. I never bothered to listen to his sales technique on the phones; I just assumed it would be pitiful. Mind you he made good sales figures, there was also repeat business. Someone liked him. And it was enough to make it worthwhile to keep him on. I had some crazy, romantic notion that he was selling to some gangster group. Well after all, there were regular buyers and often cash sales. Who buys a BMW for cash after all? He sold a lot of the Sports models too. He just didn’t look the sort if you know what I mean. Then again he didn’t look the sort to be involved with a gang either. He did enough for me to keep him on, that’s all that mattered. His onsite sales were mediocre. He got the odd one, but he’d be so feeble in his approach it was like a sport for the lads to leap in before he could make an approaching utterance to a customer. He’s put his head down quietly and return to his desk and pick up the phone. I thought this was a way of covering his embarrassment. Maybe he phoned his mum to tell her they pipped him to the post again. Who knows?

Anyway this day was different and intriguing. Mr boring, predictable Johnny, who never uttered a word of complaint against all the shenanigans or ever did anything other than arrive on time, eat his lunch at his desk at the same time every day, and left after the others walked out in a cluster of rowdiness. He looked calm enough. I followed him with my eyes. I wondered amused if he’d had enough and this was his way of protesting. He didn’t look up or around him or make a sound. He padded his way out of the door and blow me over with a feather, right over to the campervan. The girls, women, whatever, got out of their seats and headed into to the rear. Weedy Johnny entered via the side door. What the hell? I think he momentarily glanced back towards me but I was so taken aback I put my head down quickly so as not to be noticed I’d seen him.

When I thought he was safely inside, I looked back. With sordid thoughts, that I wanted to feel guilty for but actually thought lucky bastard, I watched for a rocking movement. Maybe it was some kind of sex-mobile. After all they were really sexy chicks. Nothing! It was like a vacuum of information. What were they doing in there? The bloody thing had curtains. I couldn’t even make out any shapes or shadows. He was gone for about 15 or 20 minutes. Then the door opened. I caught his eye and swear there was a bit of a smirk as I quickly averted my focus back to the papers on my desk, as if casually taking a sweeping view of the outside world in business thought

This weedy little bloke, who looked as if he’d got stuck at age 12 physically, gangly 5’ 10” geek, had just pulled it off with two sexy women. Surely not? I mean, he couldn’t even talk to Shy Sue at the Christmas bash when the lads teased her into approaching him. She’s not a beauty by any stretch of the imagination but she’s very nice to everyone. You’d have thought at least he could strike up a bit of a flirt with her. Even she gave up. He just sipped away at a beer, didn’t even watch the dancing and then entered into his jacket world and left.

As he came back into the showroom, I noticed he had a holdall. Did he go in with that? What was in the holdall? What on earth was going? I was in agony with nosiness. I wanted to know what this strange little fella was up to. As he settled back at his desk, I got on with my work and gradually as the weeks went by I returned to normal just as he continued be weedy and geeky. Except there was something different about him, an air or an attitude change I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was my imagination? Maybe that was his first lay? Anyway I let it go.

I did for a while anyway. Until I noticed that weedy Johnny wasn’t quite as weedy. I couldn’t make out whether he was actually physically different or whether he just seemed to be holding himself differently. I think it was the latter. His head wasn’t hanging loose off his shoulders. That was it. He was looking up more, even looking people in the eye. I didn’t like what I saw. A man with hubris. Confidence is one thing, it is attractive even in another man. But this was sort of sickening and quite something else other than confidence. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

 

Comments please ... shall I continue?

 

Bliss

XX

 

 

 

 

Moral laws

Submit to the moral laws of honesty, purity, unselfishness and love or you will be broken. Disaster is a surety if you are dishonest, impure, selfish and unloving. You will suffer the consequences.
Through dishonesty I always suffer the consequences of disquiet and fear. When selfish it just feels painful because I am only worried about what is happening to me. The focus is on me and what's lacking or what's wrong. I can counter this with gratitude and drop the selfishness, consider other people. And as for impurity, well this could be related to the deceit of not telling people what I'm doing for the purpose of hiding to ensure I get what I want. What is impurity of it isn't the other things already mentioned here? Manipulation is dishonesty, liking people for who they are or what they can offer is dishonest. Is this impurity? I'm not sure about impurity because all of the others strike me as impurity.
This morning I had another cry. Yesterday my dad phoned me. He is still in hospital. He didn't want to go into any detail. He said he had cellulitis. I looked this up and it can be serious but is it that for my dad? It's just hard to know what the truth is with him. Is he dramatising things because it can't be mediocre with him or is he hiding the seriousness? To keep me away? To protect me? What is it?
I am scared that something might happen I won't have seen him alive for months. I feel so very, very sad at this thought and the thought of all the years in angst with him. Keeping me away. All the years of his angst with me driving me away. It's all so futile in the light of mortality, of pending death. God, what is it all about, really? Please can you guide me God. I want to go an visit him because I care and he matters despite all of our differences. I am trying to respect his wishes. He doesn't like being fussed over in his hospital bed. I can understand that. It's demeaning for him. He does not think about others and why should he. I'm trying to consider him. But bloody hell it hurts to be kept away and I am so so scared. It makes it worse not really knowing the full extent of his situation. And he says T is getting worse. Is she? Or is he dramatising that? What is the truth God. I just have to take it at face value. And wait and see. I wonder if Nina knows. I wonder if I should call her? God what do you want me to do here?
I have a lot of forgiveness for him. I hope that he knows this. I hope that he knows I love him too. If he calls again I will tell him. Why didn't I tell him yesterday? I didn't because it leaves me vulnerable and sad and hurt. I am crying as I write this.
All day yesterday I was wanting something. What I really want is my dad. And that I can't have and I don't think I've had since I was a little girl. Even then it was corrupted. I think he really did love me though. I don't know if he loves me now or if it's a duty thing. I love him and still want him to love me. Gosh! It hurts.
I absolutely link this wanting to be wanted by him with wanting to be wanted by men in general. It would make me feel as if I'm an OK person. And yet it really doesn't. It turns into something so horrible. I wonder if I can ever get beyond that? I would only want to be with someone now who can live by the spiritual and moral laws and honour me within that and for me to be able to honour them. I don't want it any other way. Anything else is too painful and I do not want to be that person.
I think the path is narrowing and narrowing. My feelings around my friends are altering. It's hard staying me amidst them which is hurtful to realise.
Wow! I've just said to an FAer that called that I don't really need feedback. She wanted to give it to me anyway ad I said I know I know E and tight now I'm just feeling and that's OK. I have a lot of understanding.
I am very scared that my dad will die without me having seen him. And already having verbalised that a couple of times it already feels a little easier to say. It is a possibility that just a few moments ago I didn't want to be true. I want it to be changed and different. Things are as they are.
It is tragically sad that there is so much unloving amidst humans. We are here for such a short time together and then we die and all the angst was pointless. Dad I hope you know I love you. I hope you know I'm sorry for so much. I hope you know that I forgive all the confusion and messiness. I hope you know I have at least some understanding. I hope you know that I wish you nothing but a peaceful heart.


Unmanageability -
things I didn't intend doing but ended up doing
things I intended doing and didn't do

Step 12 can be a look at the subtle differences between selfishness and unselfishness, honesty and dishonesty, purity and impurity, control and letting go, jealousy and envy,

Yes all these things that I wonder the meaning and the middle road.

A lot of people in 12 Step recovery talk about events in their childhood that have been difficult. The Jesuits said "show me the child at 7 years old and I'll show you the man"
Is that really what the saying is? It makes sense. I think if we can see the influences on the child at that age then we can start to see what might emerge as they move through into adulthood. The teenage years will probably give even more insight as there could by chance be some other influence at another very sensitive age.
As discussed with G this morning, I do not believe that nature exists without nurture and vice versa. G seems to feel strongly that he is not born with the "disease" of addiction. Whether it is a disease or not is still out with the jury. It is something we humans seem to have in an increasing number of people I would say. It's a little like anything, such as Cancer, heart weaknesses, depression, anything, there could be a predisposition towards all of these things and then something in the environment could be the trigger. This is not certain so far but evidence can suggest that this is likely. Equally there is evidence that questions the theory. There are some conditions that are most certainly genetic, i.e hereditary and as such that meas that anything could be. Maybe this is what the Buddhists were interpreting from long ago that actually we have all lived before our lies and bring with us the legacy of our genetics and family history. perhaps environmental circumstances would strengthen the hold of the genetic lineage. Who really knows? The fact is that here I am with this "illness". The evidence shows that I've got it through the consequences and inability to stop, especially for me with my food.
Baltasar Gracian a Spanish Jesuit in the early 1600's, (Jesuit meaning men of a particular order who took on extreme orders to follow their faith) allegedly made this comment.
There are two ways I can take this. One is to give the child over and hen they can be shaped. Or let me see the child and the ways in which they are living and he future is predictable for them. Is it that predictable though? Other things can happen along they way that could influence the later outcomes and indeed things can happen in this moment of adulthood that can alter the direction again. Fundamentally there is a cert personality that i guess remains fairly consistent. A great area of study that I didn't really appreciate when I did study. it. Fascinating.
Now I need a wee wee ad then a stroll with LouLou I think. I feel sleepy so I do not feel inclined to go visiting C in Winchester or anyone else. I was thinking cinema and was considering contacting M but then it's a journey and petrol and expense. I can't afford it. I wish I could do 20mins of my accreditation document. why can't I get on with it?
I am feeling sleepy. It will be nice to just laze again. I did that yesterday too. I don't think I went to bed so late either. So it's surprising.
I must phone C and say I won't be over and A too. Or maybe I should make the effort for at least a walk. OK lets see what she's up to.

Lot's of ideas jotted down here and probably in random directions. I'd also like to do some more writing. I have this idea of a short story but don't where it's going. So perhaps if I used the OU course I could do some of that this afternoon. That's what I'd really like to do so I'm going to. After all next week my course starts. And really I should be getting my desk read for that. It's a mess in my flat. I just want all the bits gone but then I want them again at some stage in the future. I need a shelving unit in the cupboard to be able to store all the little things in plastic boxes for easy access.
I need a lot of organising.

Bliss
XX



 

On the tempest

I pray that I an let the tempest pass by without trying to fight it off and then observe. I believe that I will see it pass and whatever it changes will be OK.
I was nearly drawn into the tempest when speaking with a friend yesterday. I was explaining all that I had been through this week, emotionally. I was already slightly heckled as they had commented that I had been silent for a few days so that must have meant something was going on. She hadn't and doesn't call me anyway. It is me that maintains the talking contact I feel. I rarely receive a call from her. Do I say something or do I let it pass? Because it really grates on my nerves when I receive comments like that. How do I let it go? Should I let it go?
I don't make much contact with A or L and there is never any comment about the amount of contact. I do wonder when I might hear from A but it sort of rises up and then I let it go for a while until it rises up again. I will call and leave a message for her.
What has arisen for me is connected with my dad. I was aware that with a niggling need to have contact with JH and D there was something bubbling underneath. I even knew that it was more than likely connected with my dad but I had been and still am but not entirely disconnected from the feelings. When I get in touch with the feelings I feel sad and weepy.  Talking with V the other evening really got me in touch with these emotions.
I prayed yesterday and this morning. I asked God to help him find peace in his soul. It may not be the case but I have a feeling that my dad is terrified of the other side of mortality. I pray to God that he does not have to die with an agonised soul. Peace and freedom is what I pray for for my dad. And for T, his wife too. I genuinely mean it from heart and my own soul. The devil in me can still think nasty thoughts. I want to banish those thoughts and so turn away from them and pull in the goodness even tighter.
I am sad that he doesn't want me. And that realisation came to me when talking about not wanting these men but wanting to be wanted. I wanted to contact D in case he is thinking badly for me for making all these declarations of keeping in contact and then not. I have intent on sending a text for his birthday. Just to let him know that I care. It's awkward because I do actually think it's sad that a friendship cannot continue because a marriage splits. Anyway it certainly is linked with wanting to be wanted. And this in the absence of being wanted by my dad.
But you know I do think he is probably facing his mortality, closer than ever. To have me close by might mean facing some of his crimes. That's not the word I'm looking for. I am having a word blank moment - yet again. Facing up to his .... demons? No that's not it. His wrong doings. I want him to know I completely forgive him. How on Earth can I let him know when he doesn't admit anything really. He's said he's sorry but for what has he apologised for? Misconduct, that's one word for it.
I want him to know God that I completely forgive him. I want nothing but for him to be free of spiritual agony. I hope some day he can forgive me my sinful behaviour and the hurt I caused him and my mum. The deceit, the behaviours against all of their principles, my demands and irresponsibility. My chaos and my ever ending desire for more and more. Greedy. And my rage that he couldn't give me what I wanted from him. And my promiscuity that he didn't really know about but had hints of. And the shame I brought upon him for the 3 marriages and only 2 of them that he knew about. God I am so sorry to my dad for bringing this all upon him. No wonder he didn't like me very much. In the back of my thoughts is the "yes but what about what he did to me?" But to be honest I know a massive list of things I have done that I am sorry for. And my changes are too late really. He has detached from me long ago. There is no opportunity to truly make it up to him apart from respecting his desires to keep me away.
I feel very sad. I wish he could know me. And I wish knowing me he might like me. I doubt that can happen now. I think I will try and call again. I've tried off and on during the week but there's no answer.
There was no answer again.
I am concerned and I am scared and I am sad.
No wonder I would like comfort with a man. And I've been hungry all afternoon. I know I'm not actually hungry because I have so much flipping food now. And then again I have been feeling fat all day too.
So now I'm almost ready for my evening meal. Feeling sad. Feeling tired. I've been up and down all day with my mood. I think I've been having highs and then some energy lows as a result.
Aha a call from my dad ..... he's reluctant to tell me what's going on.

Bliss
xx



 

Soulful striving

It is my job to strive for the soulful things; honesty, graciousness, mindfulness, kindness, goodness, love, willingness, openness, wisdom. Please God help me to achieve this soulfulness and to hand over my self will and the desire for material and self gain. Please help me to share these soulful things in a way that is doing the best for kin and all mankind. That is what my soul desires.
Life without purpose is futile. I pray that I may find the good life worth striving for.

It is God sent that I have this morning to relax a little. It is extra to curriculum due to getting a puncture yesterday. It is does not come free of charge. For weeks now I have been aware that I need new tyres and yesterday God gave me a puncture. Not directly I realise, God doesn't do things that way I am sure. But this was a reminder before anything seriously awful happened. I begrudge spending out on these things you see and postpone in favour of personal pursuits and desires. So thank you God for the least dangerous reminder. And this morning L very kindly allowed me to get into work late so that I can get the tyres sorted out. I just now am waiting until 8 am so that i can phone A.D.D Tyres in Bordon. They were very good to me before and I am hoping they can fit new tyres this morning and not be hugely expensive. I am very grateful though to have been  putting funds away each month so that I can actually afford to replace all 5 (inc spare) if so required. I think they do all need replacing. It's got to be over a year since I replaced them. My car needs servicing too but I won't be able to afford that this month. I hope I've got a lot of extra pay in this months salary. I was begrudging paying it out on a car because it's been my Norway trip fund. I hope not to have to delve into my Paris trip fund. I hope that will be around Feb latest. Although it's probably better to go in April. That would give more time to save up.
I think my dad must be in hospital. he said he was having to go back in and didn't know whether he'd have to stay or not. I suspect he did know. I tried calling at about 21:30 and there was no answer. I left a message. I wonder if he did give my number to his neighbours. He said he would but .....
I will try calling his mobile this morning. And I will also see if I can book to have my hair cut on Saturday. What I'd really like to do is get the accreditation document finished this weekend and then get it approved by my supervisor and eventually submitted before 1 Sep when OU re-starts. This time Applied Psychology. I am just not ready for the discipline required. I need to alter my mindset. I think I will have to work all day Saturday and the mornings on Sunday. And have Sunday afternoon as relaxation time after the AWOL. If I read in the mornings all the information gets lost with the day filtering into the memory banks. It rubs out anything I've read.
As soon as I start thinking of other things after reading I forget what the points were.
I also realise I learn by experiencing. I think this may be very basic learning. I am not so cranial. But when I get real examples then it seems to truly get into the memory banks. Experiencing something seems to really be the best way.
I even forgot though in my first share last evening at AA after 90 days in FA of not sharing, to talk about love as connectedness. I think I was born with this isolation tendency. And circumstances probably enhanced it. Being an only child made it and makes it easy to feel lonesome, and I don't mean lonely. But the lonesome can quickly create loneliness and a feeling of being unlovable and unloved. I know it's not limited to single children though as many people with varying numbers of siblings and closeness can still feel that isolation. But what i am experiencing is a connectedness through fellowship. The calls are indicators of love. Even though the connections can be difficult or easy depending on individuals, I feel a love. I love the programme. I am so grateful to God for bringing me this programme and helping to rouse the willingness in me.
It is glorious. I have been troubled at work for example and now I am less troubled. Trusting in my sponsor and the programme and gradually becoming more willing to do what is suggested, it's all got me to being a different and improved version of me. I know L is changing too and I am grateful to God for that as well. All of me is screaming that it's me who has done all the work and wanted things to be better. pride and self righteousness. But I can concede and smile at myself about that, because I know she has been changing too. Thank you God for showing me me.
Please God help me to have the willingness to work this programme.
Thank you God for another day abstinent yesterday.
Poor anyone who reads God and thinks OH NO! A religious culty freak. If only that person would know that I am least religious and Goldly in that sense than anyone. The Bible and the religious practices are not for me. I get the principle more and more though.
Reading Paradise Lost is interesting. You see I think I am understanding Milton to be suggesting that the Garden of Eden was actually before Earth. There was no Heaven nor Hell, there was just this place with angels and peace. But Satan as he became to be known was envious and wanted higher ranking position, even Gods position. He tempted Eve with the apple and was rallying the discontent in the other angels. Angels that were impatient or jealous or bored or scolded or resentful or something. All these emotions and traits exist but there are those that Satan was able to infiltrate and culture those traits in his growing desire for more. It is something that can be cultivated and a darkness that grows fast and envelopes the light. I can relate. It was a seed that exists there and as the devil gets a hold for  example through abuse or abandonment and faulty nurturing, the dark feelings have the room to swirl and escalate. Then the Satan can step up the anti using this emptiness ad coldness to turn it into hatred and desire and overwhelming power. It's there, it can be ignored. Ignore at ones peril. As the fallen angels discovered. They lost their belief in the light, stopped putting into action all the effort required to nurture and then the swirling dark cold abyss grows within needing more and more to fill it as it grows deeper and deeper. I followed that trail. The seed was given room to grow with the sense of shame and hatred that I was given. There wasn't enough belief surrounding me to counter the effect. And the abyss was opened up. I had this anger in me without knowing what it was and no teachers to even show me a different way. well actually I don't think that's entirely true. I suspect there were a lot of people trying but the power of the shame and hatred was louder somehow. Maybe I am the sort of person who listens to that like the angels. Some did not want to follow Satan's desires, they had the strength and belief to turn away and face the light.
I found alcohol and diets and laxatives and this fuelled my anger. It gave me a false courage, a strength to rebel. I rebelled hoping to be heard really but in fact it widened the abyss. My mum was the frail link back though. I kept a little of the light for the terror of finally letting my mum down so much that she would have to let get of the thinning stretching thread. She loved me so much and this morning walking around the village I longed for a moment to be her daughter in the world we live in. Just to have her here to love me. Just to have that assurance. And an opportunity to show her a revised me, a more soulful caring me. Show her how much I truly love her and actually that I do appreciate her. I know she knows in Heaven but it's earthly her I am sad not to have here today. I can bring her close to me though.
But that sadness with loss and grieving does not have to turn into a gap for the devil to seep in. No. no. Nor do my worries about finances or the difficulties at work or the need for study time or the laziness with hpusework. No, instead I can turn to God. I can keep my strength of belief. I can ask for the willingness to work this programme. And then there are fewer and fewer avenues to trundle along that lead into temptation.

A friend made a comment that she felt igorant about not knowing what Paradise Lost was. It got me to pondering about the fact that in the past I have been so tough on myself, telling myself I am ignorant. And that isn't with any love at all I have said that to myself. I brate myself for being ignorant as if it's a terrible thing. How awful the way language is used with connotations from nastiness. So being kind and gentle I was saying to this friend that it is not ignorance as a bad thing but it is ignorance fulls top. I didn't know about Paradise Lost and rather than being ashamed of that it is not something I have sat down to discover. I didn't do any literature study to any great length. I chose to play instead of study. And now I can be humble enough to be grateful for the different people in my life that bring diverse interests to me. And as they become interesting to me I do indeed follow them through. Paradise Lost had come to my attention some time ago. I did look it up and even copied the books onto my conputer. But it didn't really sink in. And then my sculptor friend showed me her work in connection with an upcoming exhibition called Revelations. I don't know if it's just a title and she has taken the Biblical theme or whether the Biblical element is the them. Anyway she has referred to Paradise Lost as her inspiration. And my gosh the work I saw was outstanding. She expressed the emotions of despair at the realisation of waking in this place called hell. This endless prison with no entrance nor exit. Wow, such vision. A knowingness of those feelings. And I could see how that intial shame borne from powerful desire, so powerful that all trust was lost in the light and God and turned towards Satan full of promises and guile. They invested in the temptation and desire and woke to realise the results. And of course there lies the pain to be further cultivated by Satan.
So she brought Paradise Lost a little bit more alive for me than the last encounter I had with it whatever that was, I can't even remember. And so much so that I am trying to read it. It's a lot of literature to read. But wow it's painting powerful pictures for me. The meaning though seems sop difficult to express. And someone else can. How wonderful that is. I am envious but will not allow that to breed and instead I am grateful to God for showing me this. I am learning. And my horizons expand. How wonderful that I have so many people with interestes that spark my own interests. And my knowledge is growing, my openness grows as I realise the passion and delight these things can bring to my soul. Thank you God. Thank you for E and the many pothers such as A and M and T and A and E and - that's beginning to look like a genetic code ha ha ha ha.
So here I am sitting waiting. I have tried calling 2 tyre places with no answer as yet. I have at least sent a text to L to tell her what is happening. I hope to get there by 10:30. Is that possible?
I will call my hairdresser too. Can I afford it? I hope so.
I need to save £360 per year for haircuts which means putting away £30 per month. I will need to start doing that then.
I also need to phone Vodafone and see if there is a better package for my minutes usage. It's crazy paying £150 per moth on Vodafone then there's BT and Plusnet for Broadband. This is a lot of money every month of communications. There has to be a better way. I onder what happens if I amalgamate them all. What is the total cost? £150 Vodafone £45 BT and £12 Plusnet = £207 per month!!!! That's ridiculous. I do  not use my landline except for an international call once per week for 1 and half hours. I use the Internet a lot.  Oh and I add some money for Skype calls too. Not much but that probably pushing £215 per month on communications. There has to be a better way.
I will call BT, Plusnet and Vodafone to see what they could do to improve these costs if I put all of mys business with them. I need to phone EDF too to see what good deals they are offering on supplying electtricity as the fixed rate ends this month. Has ended actually.
OK lets start with Vodafone. 191 - it's free. No tyre place first. I hope they open at 9am. They do.
OK it's time to go. And bugger I didn't read anymore of the poem. I will take it with me whilst I am waiting.

Thank you
Bliss
XX