Gone gone gone

It's gone. My assignment is submitted - the end of the course. Fascinating and demanding and tiring and exciting. But all finished. I hope I pass and better than that I hope I get a 2:1.
I so need to be working less to really be able to apply myself the the levelt that I do now believe I am nore than capable of. It is not satisfying doing things in a half measured way because of time restraints. However, it is satisfying in many other ways.
I am free now - assignment gone. I am free to enjoy the next few days off without the pressure of studying and writing and interpreting.
Yipppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

And thanks to everyone sinlge one of my friends and associates who support me.

Bliss
XX

The gift of the present

ADVENTURERS WARNING:
Sometimes, being your true radiant self, living in the moment, glad for all you already have and who you already are, Bliss, isn't always easy.
Nope, such conditions create the precise moment in one's life when the floodgates of physical abundance swing open the farthest, giving rise to that persistent, nagging "issue of the ages": where to put it all.
Really -  
    The Universe

I cannot write right at this moment on this posit. However, I will savout the moment as recently I have been able to apply this easily. An it therefore has influenced my decisions. I do have fears about financial security and with that comes an immediate anxiety of what I can't have and won't be able to afford. An instant move away from the above sentiment.
Must get on - will be back

Bliss
XX

Multiple choice life

It's as if before you there are countless doorways, all leading to new and different hallways. So you wonder and think, calculate and stress, over whether or not you'll knock on the "right" one.
But what you can't yet see, Bliss, is that all of the hallways beyond all of the doorways eventually lead to the same great room, in the same great house, with the same great party.
So, may as well pick the one you want? Huh?  
    The Universe

I whole-heartedly concur. I don't think there are any wrong paths there are simply paths. Follow anyone and I am me, consistently me. And I develop some more me as I follow my choices. Perhaps my choice are even an indication of me. Individuality. N=Everything is intertwined. Me has been contributed to from the moment of conception an influences in early days contributed to me and choices. Choices were presented that were nothing to do with me, they were there regardless of me.
Pick a path and develop on the journey. The journey involves emotions, new information, people and varying interactions, different terrain to negotiate and navigate. None of it is wrong. It simply is. Embrace it.
There we are my thoughts
Bliss
XX

Book of Job

Where were you when I lai the earth's foundations?
Tell me since you are so well informed! ...

When all the stars of the morning were singing with joy
and the sons of God in chorus were chanting praise?

Job 38:4 and 7

Grace -
Tthe way of nature and the way of grace. Choose which one to follow.
Grace doesn't try to please itself. Grace accepts being slighted, forgotten, disliked.
It accepts insults and injuries.
Nature only wants to please itself. And others to please it too.
It likes to Lord it a little
To have it's own way
It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining all around it
 and love is smiling at all things
He taught us that no one who loves the way of grace
never comes to a bad end
I will be true to you
Whatever comes .....
(The words spoken at the beginning of the film Tree of Life.)

Something else I picked up - Is boredom anything less than the sense of one's faculties slowly dying?
Lots to debate but I need to focus - getting somewhere but not fast. At least I am getting somewhere

Bliss
XX

Order of service - oddity

My appeal for extension is being considered. Hopefully favourably.

It is horrid though as they required proof. Fortunately I brought the order of service home which apparently is sufficient

It was horrible scanning it and sending it. I can't quit sobbing now.

I suppose it had to come out. I am not even sure what I am sobbing about. It seems impossible Lisa is dead.

Loss is so strange. I don't think I believe in life after death in the way that I have supposed from what I have heard in the past.

Oddly I didn't sense my mum and Lisa on the bench this morning - I tried to see them there but just couldn't I turned as I walked away and waved.

I am not sure that this is my previous understanding of life after death and signs and messages from a sort of returning being. It's something much more that I cannot explain at all. Or I don;t know how to explain.

I hope I get the extension as I am really really struggling to stay focused. Plus I was awake asleep awake asleep throughout the night.

Even ending up emailing my auntie at 3:05 knowing that she is awake usually fro 2am until about 5am. No reply which was a relief as I am hoping that means she slept all the way through for the first time in ages.

Sorry to keep sharing all this. Normally I internalise all this because I think it shows that I am weak and pathetic. Death is death and get on with it - it happens. My dad would be as cold as anything - not a tear or even a change in his expression  which told me masses really. He told me that he was desensitised to death - never getting close to people truly after the first few deaths and killings when he was such a young man in the army - sent to horror zones such as Yemen and Korea and Borneo etc. Horrid battles. I see that in him - death is death, he's right but it evokes loss in me which I need to allow to heal in the way humans seem to need to do it - crying and hurting and crying and trying to make sense of it and crying and ...... whatever it takes. I have more acceptance more of the time regarding my mum and it is fortunate that I was in recovery to learn this.

I am glad I am mortal and there is an end to all of this - it will happen and I am not afraid. The Priests sermon was about death coming to us all.

He told a story of a farmer in Africa (the Priest was African with a very STRONG African accent). The farmer was walking through the planes one day and was being followed by a lion. He carried on walking and the lion walked behind him keeping pace. The farmer sensed him there. He tried running but still the lion kept pace and when the farmer glanced to see him, the lion was getting closer. He tried standing still and soon the lion was upon him. He likened the farmers walk to death. We cannot escape death. We are born and then we are like the farmer walking walking, running walking and eventually we have to stand still and then it catches up with us. He did make note that it seems worse when it's one so young. Thankfully he didn't say God wanted this one early or anything. Nonsense in my mind. It is what it is.

I hope you don't mind me writing all of this. It's simply musings to get the sobs to stop. They are subsiding now. The request for the Order of service I think was a strange help for me. I hope I can re-focus now on mesolimbic dopaminergic pathways involved in stress triggering addictive behaviours and schizophrenia. Ha! And then we die.

I hope this doesn't seem to morbid and understand if you decide not to read it.

Bliss

xx

R.I.P

My mind is amuck with the events of today. Family interaction, death and infinite farewells, Our is not to reason why? But why? I recognise how different I feel from all of "them". The way in which I could just stand there all alone feeling separate and spare. J cackling her laughter and northern utterances of "eeeeee" in remark of this or that. Mark's internal tremble of loss. People not talking with people because of "what about me?". No tears, endless tears. Stoic little girls, lost little girls, left alone little girls. Mrs niceness, broken-heartedness, incredulous sobs, aged resignation, oddity, chatterings, sandwich munchings, feeble mutterings, drinking, smoking, choking. There's nothing I can say. Grant us wisdom. What is this? Anyone? I am battle weary. Relating and remarking and smiling and crying.
I nearly fell asleep on the way home. I actually would not mind if the last breath was taken but I would not want to take the last breath of another.
Shakespeare's Titus is tragedy upon tragedy and violence and meanness. All of which exists in this world in the name of that's how it is. It is how it is. Here and gone again. There surely is nothing beyond. This is it!
People will have their souls black in the words of Shakespeare. Some will turn to the white light. I do not know. I know nothing. Nothing makes sense. Sense means what?
I am tired. Truly tired. It does seem pointless. I feel too tired to go on, truly. But that is not my choice apparently.
Titus: When will this fearful slumber end?

I send love, love, love.

Bliss
XX

Father deep inside

Father, father - always you wrestle inside of me

The irony is that I see how much I am like you in so many ways. I recognise how I found ways to be close to you by cncurring with. I adored that feeling of being accepted by you even though I disagreed. Eventually I agreed because it became the way. I learnt well. But I kept breaking through. Me. ANd that displeased you. All I wanted was to be loved by you but for being me. Being me seemed to breed distaste from you to me.

The only way to be happy is to love
Unless you love
your life will flash by
Wonder
Hope
Follow me

Bliss
XX