Monday Musing

You’re packing up your sleeping bag,

Your lantern and your tent,

And you’re off to find the life you lost,

But you aren’t sure where it went.

And I hope those mountains teach you,

How to stand both tall and proud,

That you see your life much clearer,

With your head above the cloud.

I hope you swim through rivers,

With their currents swift and fast,

That they show you must be careful,

When you wash away your past.

I hope that you are humbled,

By the vastness of the sea,

That the eagles high above you,

Make you feel like your free.

I hope when night has fallen,

And your fire’s just a spark,

The stars shine to remind you,

That there’s beauty in the dark.

But most of all I’m hoping,

That you’re learning while you roam,

That no matter the distance,

You can always come home

e.h.

xx

The Laughing Heart

Charle's Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart" read by the gruff, moody voice of Tom Waits.

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

xx

The Great Dictator's Speech

The Great Dictator’s SpeechWatch this timeless and universal speech from Charlie Chaplin which couldn’t be more relevant today. Taken from his 1940 movie The Great Dictator, Charlie delivers a hair raising and thought-provoking speech that we should all take a moment to take in.

I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be an emperor. That’s not my business. I don’t want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone – if possible – Jew, Gentile – black man – white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness – not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way.

Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost….

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men – cries out for universal brotherhood – for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world – millions of despairing men, women, and little children – victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people.

To those who can hear me, I say – do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed – the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. …..

Soldiers! don’t give yourselves to brutes – men who despise you – enslave you – who regiment your lives – tell you what to do – what to think and what to feel! Who drill you – diet you – treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men – machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate – the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!

In the 17th Chapter of St Luke it is written: “the Kingdom of God is within man” – not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people have the power – the power to create machines. The power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Then – in the name of democracy – let us use that power – let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world – a decent world that will give men a chance to work – that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfill that promise. They never will!

Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people! Now let us fight to fulfill that promise! Let us fight to free the world – to do away with national barriers – to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness. Soldiers! in the name of democracy, let us all unite!

Monday Musing

Pinterest

Pinterest

Have a Happy Monday, Friends!

xx

Monday Musing

Oh So Lovely Obsessions

Pinterest

The Glitter Guide

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Monday Musing

Pinterest

The Power of Our Words

Our words are our power tools. Each word we use initiates an act of creation and is a thread holding together a part of the fabric of our life. Take one word out of your vocabulary and all the creative power that that word contains evaporates from your life. Take the word "love" out, for example, and everything you understand, know, feel, and experience about "love" would no longer exist.

That's the power of one word.
- Caroline Myss

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Reflection

I have spent some time reflecting on last year – a very difficult year - and trying to see the light in every situation. I believe that everything happens as it should, but I must admit that a lot of the time I still battle to understand why.

I was retrenched for the third time – but have thankfully found a great new job, at a stable company, where I work with some really lovely people.

My mom was also retrenched from her job this year – and at her age, finding another job is really difficult. She has been keeping herself busy, and recently a small, independent job prospect has come to light - working with animals – something she is so passionate about. I really hope that everything works out for her. She is such a special lady, with the most beautiful heart.

My gran, who has always been so healthy and independent, had a minor operation, and ended up contracting a viral infection which has really affected her overall health – But despite the deterioration in her health and strength, and in turn the loss of her independence, she is so positive – and remains such an inspiration.

Cancer, such a cruel disease, took the lives of four special people – one of whom was Josh’s father. I don’t know how, but Josh has been so strong.

I had a health scare, which thankfully was caught early, so I was able to undergo a relatively small procedure to sort it out. The next step is a follow up in March – until then I am staying positive that the results will be good.

As 2014 came to an end, I found myself, as with every other year I can remember, hoping that the next year would be better. Unfortunately, I find myself in an incredibly sad situation. My heart is is shattered and I feel as if I am being suffocated by sadness. But I am once again reminded of the amazing resilience of the heart.

So much happened last year, but despite it all, I was still able to smile - I had some awesome times, and laughed often, and I know the same will be true for this year.

xxx

Monday Musing

Little Bits & Blogs

Pinterest

What a wonderful word - what a wonderful thing to be...

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Write Something Today

The Glitter Guide

As you may have noticed, the frequency of my posts has depleted to a near non-existent level.

I mentioned that when things do not go as I had planned, they tend not to go at all, but I realise that there is a much bigger issue than this…

Every time I sit down to write, an activity that I really enjoy…or at least enjoyed – It just feels like everything I say is so cliché – every introduction, every description; a line used far too many times, by far too many people.

The amount of saved word documents that scatter my desktop, covering loads of topics, which I abandon two paragraphs in, due to the over-use of words or phrases, actually astounds me.

To suggest I read more books seems a very valid solution – surely filled with inspiring writing, never seen before descriptions, and barely used words – However, a brilliant piece of writing makes me realise how far from a good writer I am.

Fear of failure, and the inability to do something, without even trying, are some more of my biggest hindrances… I don’t even give myself the chance to better myself -

The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it seems – but I feel this is probably one of the best platforms for honesty, with myself and others.

So that being said, I have decided to keep writing, despite the nauseating clichés I may make use of. I will try things, that I may fail at… who knows, I may succeed…but is it really the worst thing not to? And I will do things that I enjoy, even if I am absolutely rubbish at them.

xxx

About Me

In the post Moving Along I wrote about how the company I am working at would be closing down at the end of April – As much as I would like to say it came as a complete shock to me, if I am honest, there were many signs that the business was not doing well. I suppose I was in denial, and remained optimistic. Once I had received my letter of retrenchment, I updated my CV, and began the search for a new job. I was inspired by an article my brother sent me from The New York Times, which I posted in Sell Yourself, and shortly after that wrote a piece about me…

I sneak around in sneakers, and scale great heights in heels. I adapt to a multitude of environments in black, leopard print and floral. I admire the modesty of inverted pleats, appreciate the thoughtfulness of bound seams, and the charm of covered buttons. I consider Chambray the lighter denim that could, and think on the mulberry leaves consumed while spinning silk. I sit in front rows at fashion shows throughout major cities, resort to ready to wear, critiquing ranges from Azzedine Alaïa to Zac Posen.

I host cooking shows while exploring the kitchens of world famous chefs, a gastronomist in my own right. I passionately brew world famous coffee, and drink fine wines based on the ingenuity of the packaging.  

I perform at night clubs in Paris in the 1950’s alongside Edith Piaf, singing words to songs sung in a language I can’t speak. I enjoy travel - the arrivals, the departures, the hellos and goodbyes. I spend Friday nights at the airport, writing books based on the lives of the people who randomly pass me by. I read books, and fondly illustrate them in my mind. I am an inventor, an artist - I paint poetry.

I am an excellent teacher, and an even better learner. A curious mind, with a limitless imagination. A hopeless romantic, certain that all things should be done with love. I believe that only boring people get bored, in a world filled with wonder.

Fortunately, I have found a new job, beginning in May. I am going back to a company I worked at just after I graduated. I am relieved and excited to be working with some familiar faces again.

xxx 

Monday Musing

SARI LITTLE FRIEDMAN

The Chic Department 

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The Important Things

These are the things I believe to be most important in life...

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Impulsive Compulsive

observando

Fuckits, n.: the rush of yielding to temptation, esp. to behave in a compulsive manner; the flood of relief that occurs after permitting oneself to indulge (see: Case of the Fuckits).

Several years ago, a recovering bulimic taught me this word. She was describing the cycle of her disorder: the days of starvation and white-knuckled control; the inevitable momentary weakness; the first few bites of  cookie or pie, eaten in the certainty that moderation would be possible this time; and then finally, inevitably, the tipping point when her willpower gave way and a binge began (“OH FUCK IT!"). 

Recovery, she told me, was about never giving in to the Fuckits.

As it so happens, the Fuckits are mutual friends of ours. Like those "networkers" who talk to you for five minutes at a cocktail party and then immediately friend you on Facebook, they've managed to connect at one time or another not only with me and her, but pretty much everyone I know. 

They have a knack for appearing at the worst times in my life: after a stressful day at work, as I open a bag of candy corn; when I'm already 2 white wines in, contemplating a third; or when I'm staring at Burberry skirts on eBay, biting my cuticles. 

They can be lots of fun, but they can also be overbearing, controlling, profligate assholes. No matter how often you spend time with them or what you do when they're there, you always feel a little dirtier in the morning.

In recent years, some of my friends have stopped speaking to the Fuckits. Their lives are better for it. These are the addicts, the Fuckits' favored few. At one time or another, they have each faced a stark choice: stay away from these guys, or die prematurely.  

My relationship with the Fuckits is less dire. I am what you would call one of their subclinical friends. They come around fairly often, but not so much that they're ruining my life. My impression is that they're at about the same friendship level with the majority of women I know.

Wouldn't it make sense for EVERYONE to defriend the Fuckits? Even if they haven't ruined our lives, why do we want to keep such an unpredictable, irritating, unbalanced company? Is there any reason we're still listening to their crazy schemes after all these years?

For me, yes, there is a reason. They might be full of crap most of the time, but the Fuckits are kind of my heroes.

When someone I know -- or something I read in a magazine -- tells me to be more patient, submissive, practical, or pleasing, the Fuckits know just the right response. When tonight was supposed to be the night of a thousand laundry loads, but I'm just too interested in writing this article, they smile and tap me on the shoulder. If I hear again that no one could possibly procrastinate as much as me and succeed, they make like a Roman emperor in the arena and do a haughty thumbs-down.

The instincts that tell me to go ahead and eat the whole sundae, to drink until I'm drunk, to stay up all night and ruin tomorrow reading random articles on Wikipedia -- they are instincts of surrender, of desire, of just-because-I-want-to. They are hungry, ugly, primal. They would rather expose themselves to embarrassment and criticism than miss out on something delicious. 

These instincts, these desires for something more, are amoral. They run strong and quick, right past eddies of worry, in search of satisfaction. Like water, they will flow forward by any means we allow:  wide, shallow floodplains of cheesecake; deeper, more frightening rapids of change. 

I'm scared of the rapids. It's convenient to let my life clog them with inertia and self-loathing, or to build dams in advance by internalizing society's opinions about who I should be.

How often my desires have run toward a big dream, a needed breakup, a lavish and impractical adventure that sounds worthwhile only to me, only to hit an inner Hoover and divert for something shallower. And how wonderful it's been the few times the Fuckits happened onto the scene, drunk as usual, dressed for some reason like Venetian gondoliers, singing in jaunty straw hats as they hand me sticks of dynamite: fuck it, fuuuuuck that shit, dooo it anyway, fuuuuuck that shit.

The Fuckits are irritating. They are insane. The stakes of hanging out with them are high, and I need to start inviting them to better parties.

Article by Anna Laimer, xoJane

Happy Weekend Friends

xxx

Monday Musing

 I believe that love is the world's greatest virtue...

Riches for Rags

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Asking Too Much

I am in love with Andrea Gibson...

Asking Too Much

- Andrea Gibson

I want you to tell me about every person you've ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn't think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mothers joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you've been unkind. Tell me all the ways you've been cruel. Tell me—knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant, where smoke stacks were filling the sky with dark, black clouds, would you holler, “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would whisper, “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy”? Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? See, I wanna know if you believe in any god, or if you believe in many gods. Or better yet, what gods believe in you. And for all the times you've knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you've asked come true? And if they didn't did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment, will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I have lived my entire life a little off key and I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarized the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes from other people’s wounds. And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted to you could pop—but you never would because you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest, and you were the only one there to hear, if its fall to the ground didn't make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn't exist or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness? And lastly, let me ask you this: if you and I went for a walk, and the entire walk we didn't talk, do you think eventually we’d kiss? No way. That’s askin’ too much—after all, this is only our first date.

xxx

Monday Musing

Pretty Stuff by Patterson Maker

chanel bags and cigarette drags

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What if?

observando

This Life Is Bliss

Wisuella

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Monday Musing

Riches for Rags

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My Monday Musing

Image *wit + delight

Have you ever noticed how the older you get the faster time goes by. Apparently this is all relative to how long we have been alive. To a one year old, one year is a lifetime, but to a 50 year old, a year is a 1/50 of their life. I am not sure if this really is why time seems to fly, but I am certain that each year of my life passes quicker than the year before.

A lot has happened this year, and I have spent a lot of time thinking about life.

The sudden popularity of the acronym “yolo” (You only live once)is mocked by many, including myself – But there is really a lot of truth in it, and I believe we need to apply it to our lives.

A friend of mine lost her father shortly after discovering he had an inoperable brain tumor. The sad realisation that tomorrow is not promised to any of us encouraged her and her husband to take a year to travel the world together.

Situations like this are common and I am sure you are able to think of one that has happened in your own life, or at least to someone close to you.

Every day we are alive is a special occasion.

Why waste your time on things and people that make you unhappy. Each day should be lived without regrets. Don’t regret things you have said and done that cannot be changed – Apologise if necessary, and let it go. Don’t allow for regrets of things you should have said or done either.

This is most certainly not a reason to become reckless – For goodness sake, you don’t want to shorten your precious life – But do take risks.

Be kind to yourself and others. Accept and give compliments. Share.

Don’t waste too much time worrying about what other people will say and think – Those thoughts are theirs to own, not yours.

Try the things you have always wanted to try. Experience different things. Appreciate special moments. Say the things you want to say to people – don’t be afraid. Tell the people you love and care about how much they mean to you. Do all you do with great enthusiasm and passion – If you can’t ask yourself why – and make a change.

Most importantly, live.

xxx

Monday Musing

Riches for Rags

xxx