Don’t say I’m clumsy…

I’ll be the first to admit,

I’m not spatially aware

and my four separate limbs,

somehow outnumber two pair.

‘It is how I was made’,

is my line of defense.

If you deem say I’m clumsy,

well, I’ll just take offense.

I can’t shy from the truth,

there’s just too much carnage.

Nor can I sidestep the blame,

say it’s down to my lineage.

I’ve ruined vintage jackets,

burnt their tassels to a crisp,

I’ve wiped out small children,

even blown up a whisk.

The list is quite endless,

it defies every law

and how I’m still standing,

only adds to my allure.

Because despite certain failings,

I am pretty astute.

Well that’s what I’ll believe

till I’m served a lawsuit.

Make up your own Mind

The kicker of the kicker

is it carries no weight.

It’s all bark

with the bite of a gurner.

It’s simple really.

Life happens.

You can’t dodge it,

can’t press pause.

You can be contrite;

what’s theirs is yours…

You see, I’ve learnt

a thing or two,

not that I’m wise

but I no longer despise

what’s out of my control.

Don’t spread your legs

for a lick and a promise.

Who hasn’t?

Who wouldn’t?

I’d strongly recommend you don’t,

not that you won’t,

make up your own mind.

Stop looking and seek,

eternally speak,

your own truth.

The words that form a lump,

make you palms sweaty,

those thoughts needs airing,

‘cos life is short.

So do not get caught

with regrets.

Step out of the charade.

and do not,

under any circumstances,

let anyone,

piss on your parade.

before I head back to Tinder…

I wear my indifference,

like the Emperor’s new clothes.

A placid disposition?

A catalogue of woes?

I’m tired of remoulding,

every ounce of my being.

In order to fit in,

with what I ought to be fleeing.

My crime is believing,

the sweet, honey lies.

The bullshit dished out,

by shallow, insecure guys.

There’s got to be a man,

who can love and adore.

An eccentric, unique lady,

for now and evermore.

‘Cos I’m getting quite cynical,

it has to be said.

That I only get praise,

When I’m giving good head.

What happened to chivalry,

does it no longer exist?

In this man-eat-woman world,

of the emotional rapist.

I don’t want to become tainted,

don’t want to be bitter.

But I get more love and support

from my followers on Twitter.

Yet no one can stop me,

no one can hinder…

I just need a safe refuge,

before I head back to Tinder…

pass the parcel

Old beliefs wrapped

layer upon layer,

the hidden purveyor

of an age-old game.

Old news leaves

print on my hands,

smudging what’s real

in an unreal world,

where nothing is fixed

all opinions mixed,

as we all pass the parcel.

Until the silence

lands on my lap.

The beat of the music

pausing my mind

as I gently go in,

removing opinions;

discarding them

for the rubbish they are.

The repetitive blah

that fills time and space.

The make-believe stories

we tell ourselves.

The repetitive lies

of not being enough;

that life should be tough.

Living hand to hand,

hand to mouth.

Forgetting life’s a game,

a never ending play

where the one you betray

is only ever yourself.

“There is no means of testing which decision is better…”

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“There is no means of testing I which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, “sketch” is not quite a word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.” Milan Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

It’s the same old, same old… If another does not know their own mind, their own heart, how can they be ready to embark on anything? I am the same, feeling my way along and through this mortal coil, trying to remain aligned and present and make sense of the uncertainty, that is the human condition. There is no judgement here, not from me anyway. We all seek the same Holy Grail; the mystical marriage of self and from there, a love affair with another. A joining of two hearts and an adventure of discovery, an opportunity to speak our truth and be loved and respected for it.

Is Love therefore the answer to every question? I suspect it underlies everything we seek, both externally and internally of ourselves. It is both the foundations and building blocks of life. It evades us often, especially when we fail to recognize it in ourselves; unable to trust in it fully and feel totally safe just being ‘me’.

I continually try to understand why I am where I am. Why I have met the people I have met, what lessons there are to learn from these encounters and physical interactions.

I’ll put my hands up at this point. Yes, I do tend to rush forward, racing towards an unknown future. Am I any different from you? Everyone, in some way or another, is trying to be true to themselves and that of course can lead to disappointment. It is indeed always disappointing not hearing what you would like to hear; when you catch a glimpse of another like minded soul, only to be pushed away. Don’t I know all too well, that at times what you want and what you need are in opposition and the bugger of that is, you know that is how it sometimes has to be. There is gold to be found in those moments, along with frustration and at times tears. But why am I running scared? Scared to feel emotions, scared not to feel emotions…. Scared of feeling too much, scared of not feeling enough… Scared of getting it totally wrong…

Fear can rule mercilessly. It can bury us in indecision and feelings of inadequacy. It can strip you of your knowing and push you down a path of blinkered illusion. I know this is true. Fear has led me down many dead-end roads. Fear is my unwanted guest, arriving uninvited, with an air of self-importance.

So how can I move past this? How can I remove myself from its scrutiny? I know I am impatient to move past my fears. Impatient to get on with my life unabated by my own misguided limiting beliefs of not being enough. Not being ambitious enough, not being aligned with my life purpose… The ‘not being’ lists are like Kryptonite to my soul.  They strip away my intuition and kill my uniqueness.

Something has shifted in me though. I no longer wish to carry around my own dead weight. I want to shine. I want to dust off my ambition and step forward with a sense of my own worthiness. I want to stop procrastinating and start holding myself accountable to the life I want to be living. This life does not depend on anyone else. It rests solely on my own shoulders. It is my gift to myself. I would be doing myself a great disservice to not hold up my own mirror and honour myself and my gifts.

I want, I want, I want…

What I need however, is to be honest with myself, to believe I am worthy and to keep moving forward.