Sunday, 31 July 2016

The Strangest Dream

I awoke unsettled, from the strangest dream,
I sit and ponder;
What does it mean?

In a country, not of my origin,
The gas station didn't sell my cigarettes
A kindly shop assistant helped me choose,
20 B&G's, the silver pack will do;
In my head, I was thinking -
"Lucky Strike"
Yet B&G's; they sounded about right.

There was a flat,
With a tricky lock door,
It was a dream
Yet I felt I'd been here before;
In my thoughts within the dreamscape
I instinctively knew;
I felt at home....

Then a different scene emerged,
I found myself in some kind of waiting room,
Or possibly a smoking lounge,
Rows of tables, four plastic chairs to each;
Windows lined the right-hand side
Looking out onto the street.

The atmosphere was malevolent
Sense that dark forces were at work
A group of young people, carrying knives
Began to approach a table to the right side of the room
Instinctively I moved first towards
And then slowly edged further away.

Things began to get heated
I moved out of the corridor-like room
Into a sort of entrance hall
Lots of people gathered
Women wrapped in towels
Like they were at a spa,
or a swimming pool

As the group with knives began to chant,
"Terror, Terror, Shark Attack!!"
A person nearby
urgently said
"Get ready to run!"

Chaos broke out
Out of the door we flew,
Running scared
Through streets in the dark of night
Streets in a dream, not real
Yet I had run through them before

Then I stopped
A terror which shook me to my core
"My Angel!?!?"
He was not with me
Not by my side
He was not with me
He was left behind

Yet he was not with me in the beginning?
I know for certain
I was there in the dream alone
I wouldn't have left him?
Dreams playing horrible tricks
Changing the game in a blink
Panic gripped me
I began to shake...

I head back to the place
from which I just fled
A thousand and one thoughts
racing through my head

When I arrive
All is quiet and still
Only two people are present
In the corridor-like room
A woman, smoking;
A man with dark shoulder length hair

"Have you seen my Angel?  Is he here?"
I'm crying, fear permeates my words
"Yes he's here - he's in a bad way"
The man with shoulder length hair begins to say
I turn my head towards an open door way
And there my Angel is
Dragging himself across the floor
He has a nasty wound on his right leg
And tear stained cheeks
I begin to weep

My heart breaks as rush toward him
And he begins to speak softly
"It hurts" he tells me

We need to get him to the hospital
I tell the man with the shoulder length hair
As I bundled my sweet Angel up into my arms
Stroking his hair
And whispering to him
That it will all be okay.

The man answers
"Sure, but who is going to pay?"
Payment before treatment
How inhumane this truly is
"My Dad has a credit card, I'll call him, he will pay you"
I had no money
I didn't even know where we were
nor how we had ended up here
In a dream
I did not even know if I had any other family at all.

We get into a car
My Angel upon my knee
I'm holding him close to me
And wishing I could take all his pain away.
Did I leave him behind?!?
But he wasn't there I protest
He wasn't there
But maybe he had been there all along
And I hadn't realised.

His sad eyes look up and deep into mine
As we sped through the dawn lit streets
In a world without time
My heart breaking that my Angel had been all alone
Scared and hurting
I had not been there,
I had not protected him

And then I woke up
Tears soaking my face.........

Friday, 15 July 2016

Square Peg / Round Hole Syndrome

Do you ever feel like you don’t truly fit in, like, anywhere?
             - All the fucking time.

Round peg /square hole syndrome….

I think I have been a round peg attempting to fit into square holes for the last thirty three years; I am exhausted by the effort now.
Even when it appears to the untrained eye that I have adapted and slotted in rather well, I feel the gaps.  I feel how I am not snugly encased in my hole.
I am also acutely aware of all the times when I have suddenly morphed into a square peg only to discover that I am not even able to penetrate the now round hole I am attempting to infiltrate.

And I know that I am not alone in feeling this way.
There are a plethora of articles written on this very topic.  Many conclude that the reason behind not felling as though we belong (or ‘fit’) is due to being out of alignment with our unique truth.

Truth is not universal.

Stephanie Zamora penned a beautiful quote;

Whatever makes you different, that’s exactly who you’re here to be, not someone that “fits” with everyone else.

Dr Suess promoted the same sentiments.

Being different ought to be embraced and celebrated.

I think most would agree.  Yet not fitting in is still ridiculed.  It is still judged.  Even in contemporary times when difference and embracing our unique quirks is advocated far and wide via various media channels and platforms.
There still remains the status-quo of homogeneity that runs insidiously through the underbelly of society.
If it didn’t, then we wouldn’t all be required to be so courageous in being ourselves.

It feels to me like it is advocated that we embrace our true selves, but only if our unique quirkiness fits into the societal definition of appropriate quirkiness.  For example, it’s cool and accepted if your uniqueness has a cool ‘hip’ quality to it.  If it’s ‘trendy’ (wow, I fucking hate that word, but for lack of a better descriptive it’s staying in).
If our uniqueness can be used to generate an income, if we are able to turn it into a commodity to be exchanged upon the open market.

At least that’s my current perception.  And it’s open to change, for I am somewhat contradictory in my approach to life, I am a big fan of Osho, and he welcomed contradiction.  To be contrary is to be in a constant state of flux, ever-changing, flowing and adapting.

How many of us are still struggling to figure out what our own personal truth is?  Let alone whether or not we are in alignment with it.

Both hands up for me.

Maybe it’s because I’m a dabbler.

An eclectic drifter.  Possibly lacking in ambition (at least according to the societal definition of ambition – hungry, money driven, and plastering social media with selfies promoting ‘Brand You’).
I am not a fucking a brand.

I am not a fucking product to be marketed.

And yet, apparently I am.  Anyone who wishes to earn a crust from their craft needs to create a brand, and then market the sheezus out of themselves.

Maybe I am a dysfunctional human being.  There was a glitch in my evolution.

Because I’m just not feeling it.

Maybe that’s my truth.  The feeling that the world built upon the selling of ourselves is absolute bullshit. 

Even spirituality is a commodity now.

What the actual …?

Yet, as the old saying goes;

If you can’t beat them, join them???

My exhausted efforts of attempting to fit into molds that are not meant for me, have left me bent so out of shape that I am unable to return to my original form.

I’ll remain the bent out of shape, eclectic drifting dabbler gypsy child I was destined to be…

For now, at least.

Saturday, 9 July 2016

Inspired by job applications (the post, not me....)

I can't believe it has been almost a month since I last posted anything.  It's been well over a month since I actually felt compelled to write.
And now, on a rainy Saturday in July, I am suddenly compelled.

So much for disciplining myself to the practice of writing every day.

Me and self-discipline are old flames, and currently we are not on the best of terms (if we ever were).   
Like much in my life, I am either all in, or all out.  No half arsed effort, it's either all consuming, fueled by the fire of passion, takes over my entire life-is my reason for breathing....or it's just not.  I am not only referring to writing, this is pretty much how I tackle everything, from cleaning and housework, to (dare I say it) parenting, work and life.

The thing with self-discipline, is the pressure you put onto yourself, and that is indoctrinated into us by society; the whole "to be a success, or be worth any value you have to be self-disciplined, you ought to push yourself", and all that shit.

When it comes down to doing shit that brings you joy; makes your soul sing and all that jazz, there is never any need for struggle; there is no force, because you want to do it with all your heart and soul. The concept of  self-discipline (my personal perception of it), is that it seems to place added pressure onto already high expectations of how we think we ought to be; how our life ought to look.  But that's foolish in itself; life and each moment, and us as human beings are what we are, and things are what they are.  There is no need for expectation.  Everything just is.  Whether we choose to see all for what it is, or whether we struggle and fight and resist cause it ain't up to our standards?  Well I guess that is down to personal choice and the motto of life which one subscribes to. 

For me personally, high expectation and struggle just don't flick the light switch for me.  If I fail at sticking to my own goals, I end up hating on myself.  
And that is no fun at all.

So screw the goals, or actually, screw the high expectation which is placed on achieving the goal which ultimately leads to the harsh self-criticism when a goal isn't reached in the way we envision it ought to have been.

If there's passion there and you wanna go hell-for-leather towards something you want - do it.  If/when that passion fizzles out (which may/may not happen) learn what is to be learnt from the process and move on to the next thing....
Moving forward without pressure.  

Which leads me to the whole point of this particular post.

Pressure.  Do you work well under pressure?
I'll take a bet that the majority of us will affirm a positive to that statement when asked in interviews and on application forms for employment.
But do you really?
I think a definition of pressure is required.  And the context to what is meant by pressure when asked.
I love a bit of pressure when I'm writing, it gives me a good kick up the arse with a shot of adrenaline, knowing I have to finish to a tight deadline.  And generally I have brought that pressure upon myself by procrastinating in the space between being given an assignment or task to the moment when I choose to get down to business (two days before?).

Any other type of pressure though?  To be in an environment when you are required to be constantly 'on' for the whole time you're there?  With every move and moment being clocked, and timed and scrutinised?  And then the work you put your best effort into doesn't even receive acknowledgment? When your contribution isn't valued?  
Fuck that kind of pressure.
No one gets paid enough to deal with that shit.

It's like the ' needs to be good at multi-tasking', when most of us mindfulness freaks know that it's all about focusing on one thing at a time.
Yet on an application form, or in an interview we're all, "Sure, I ADORE multi-tasking, it's what I do, it's how I live my life!!!"

When I multi-task, I fuck up.
I can work on more than one project, sure, but not all at the same time.
My best work?  When I focus 100% on the task at hand.

Focusing 100% on the task at hand is the springboard for my next point.

If we set ourselves too many goals, it would be assumed inevitable that at least one wont be attained. The solution?  Set one major goal, and then work your arse off to achieve it before planning the next one.

My current goal:  To create interesting and engaging content about a trending topic of interest each week, and post the end product on to this here blog (with the clause that some weeks it may be a topic which is of high interest and importance to me, but may not be 'trending' in the traditional sense).

A solid two weeks of job searching and applications provided me with inspiration from which to muse and ponder that I'd never imagined would occur.
It also led me to thinking that I am not of the same elk of the conscientious none-to-fivers (Honestly, I already knew this from much trial and error in my earlier employed years).

I possess a solid and strong work ethic, and I put my heart into the work I do (which is currently unpaid and done because of my shear love of it).  Yet, when I read over job specifications, I do sometimes feel it would be fraudulent of me to say that I can multi-task and work well under pressure, because, although I could, and do, it would be completely dependent on the type of work and the environment in which I am working.
And I stick by the sentiment that we all produce quality work when we are focused upon the task at hand.  Multi-tasking needs to take a leave of absence for a while.
Quality over quantity.

I'm pretty sure that this post could do me out of a few jobs.  But if you were an employer who valued quality of work over quantity, then I am definitely your girl!  And if the role involves writing, well, that would be a dream and a pleasure.....