Keeping the faith...

It's tricky sometimes, to understand what the Universe has planned for you. Why that boy dumped you. Why the job you really, really wanted went to someone else. Why every little plan you ever make goes tits-up and forces you to regroup, re-assess and struggle onward.... Why it's never just easy. Well, life isn't easy. To get to where you are now just take a second to think about how much had to be overcome.

And I don't just mean "woe is me, I have been through soooo much...." because you haven't (did any of us grow up in rural Africa, for example? Have we been denied basic human rights? Have we battled famine, drought or grown up in a war zone....? Ummmm...), but on a less self-centred level, in the grand scheme of things, all things, an impossibly massive number of seemingly tiny, tiny events had to play out in a very particular manner for you to ever exist. That's insane. It's also fucking awesome.

So, before you go sweating the small stuff, spare a thought for the big stuff. The colossal stuff. The absolutely amazing certainty that everything is happening for a reason, that we're all part of something so much bigger than our egos permit us to perceive and that, regardless of our worries, stresses and mini-dramas the Universe will carry on regardless toward an end we cannot fathom.


So breathe. Relax. Let go a little and allow yourself to just enjoy each moment, happy or sad (for one cannot exist without the other....) safe in the knowledge that everything is just as it needs to be.

Peace and Love

Fam. Innit.

Life being as it is, and people being as they are, I just wanted to take a moment (I wanted to take this moment yesterday, but was thwarted...) to big up my amazing pseudo-family. Yes, blood is thicker than water (in terms of viscosity) but does that mean blood ties are more important than non-blood ties? I know too many people these days who would say 'no'. Yes, I love my Mother and sister, but do I love my pseudo-family less? absolutely not. And the best thing about the pseudo-family is that the line-up is ever-changing. People move on, have their own lives to lead... And you don't grudge them. You're happy, supportive... Truly loving. None of the emotional... Blackmail, almost, that because you're related to someone you should, or must, do x, y and z for them... Just a much purer, unadulterated and honest system of relationships and interactions. So, to the pseudo-fam, you know who you are, each and every one of you...  (the beauty of the pseudo-family is that it is each and every one of you....) I love you all. And I just wanted to say thanks for being awesome.

Peace and Love

Argggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

 I've been thinking about how these public forums (facebook, blogs etc...) are basically just another way of putting on a mask- like the Scousers'- and how it's just all bullhit, if you think about it. Carefully thought out, concocted, put-together crap to convey how smart/funny/popular and generally wonderful we are. Well, I am not wonderful. Not today at least (well, that's not strictly true, I felt fine and dandy up until about an hour ago). And I'm not feeling funny, smart or particularly 'deep' right now and I promised myself that I'd update this bloody blog. So, in honour of honour, and honesty, and all that is great and good about being alive and being human, I thought I'd share my failures (to be calm and zen-like, unaffected and chilled out... what will be will be and all that... ) and share my rage. I'd also like to thank the bastard energy-thieves whose shitty vibes and stresses I managed to absorb through the ether. Goblin queen, once more you have outdone yourself. As for you, Desert Creep, consider yourself deleted.

Peace and Love 

OrangUtan, Sloth, Monkey, Penguin or Elephant?

Peter came to Sassenach country last week and, amongst the usual (and some not so usual) drama, we ended up (after many a delightful pub lunch) at Colchester Zoo. I'd like to start by saying that, yes, I do consider myself a huge hypocrite as I don't think, having pondered on this for the past few days, that zoos are good things.

Now, I loved seeing elephants and tigers and meerkats and giraffes and monkeys and the snuffliest bears in the world (sun bears- they just lol (not LOL) around like they're in bed on a Sunday waiting on someone to bring them up a cup of tea) and all the other animals I wouldn't get to see had some retarded human being (at some point in the chain) not decided to snatch these poor critters from their natural environments but really, when I think about it, it's just all wrong.

The Orang-Utan really brought it home to me, as if the sloth hadn't been enough (more on him in a minute...). He was sat in a glass box, trying to eat a banana, with people staring in at him and taking his photo, banging on his window.... I've never seen such sad eyes.... I felt like the poor bastard was being violated. He looked like he knew there was a better life for him, somewhere, but that he'd lost all hope. Now, I know this may constitute 'normal' for him, but it's uncomfortable to watch, it's weird- and having paid £32 (for 2) in order to ensure that this craziness continues, I feel really bad.

The sloth, in absolute contrast to its reputation, was industriously turning the branches of a tree into a launching platform in order to scope out his prospects of escape. What struck me later is that he probably does that every day.... Living in hope that one day, if he just climbs high enough, he might just find a hole big enough to squeeze out through and that's it! "Ha! Nothing will stop me now......!"

Most of the animals seemed quite docile and content, mindlessly eating the food provided. The monkeys seemed the happiest (or the most deranged, I suppose....) swinging around making the most of their shit situation... However,  the penguins were so conditioned to respond to humans as food-bearers that they couldn't even enjoy their pseudo-environment... They'd turned the tables and were huddled together, staring at the children peeking in at them, pressed right up against the glass following their every move... obsessively, unthinkingly seeking that morsel of fish that would fulfil them so they could get on with their (pretty miserable) lives......

I can't believe I forgot the elephants. Elephants never forget. And the bloody elephant is the very beast who planted this whole idea for the blog in my head... Go figure.... I have never seen such an act of faith in one's abilities and the resultant rewards to be reaped as when I saw an elephant stretching and balancing its weight in the most ungainly, and perilous, manner to reach for the grass (which is always greener) which was on the other side of a wall, completely invisible to it and halfway down an embankment. Imagine an elephant on tiptoes, leaning as far forward as it can whilst blindly feeling around with its trunk, which is also stretched to absolute capacity. Unless you've seen this, you probably can't but try anyway. Hilarious, tragic and inspiring in equal measure.

But what for us? With our 'freedom'? The saddest thing of all is that we're all animals, trapped in a very big zoo...... But which one are you?

Peace and Love.

Leap. And the net will appear. Hopefully.

Never one to act irrationally or whimsically (at least, not to my mind...) I decided yesterday to stop waiting for the family in Dubai to decide my future and booked a one-way flight to India. This is not as random as it first appears, my journey of self-discovery did initially begin as a search for 'me' and my origins.... So, father rediscovered, now it's time to rediscover the land of my fore(Grand)fathers. Surprisingly logical, I would say....(though, to be honest, I only noticed this pseudo-logic after I'd confirmed that, yes, I am sure...).

I leave on the first of September and am extremely excited. Though, truth be told, I have very little idea as to what lies in store. Which is just how like it. (I'm going to live with and teach street kids 40km from Jaipur, more than that I don't know). I do know that a lot of people don't get it, won't get it, don't want to get it.... Whatever...But, it cannot be overstated that life is nothing if not an adventure and that "the only unchangeable certainty we have is that nothing is unchangeable nor certain."

So, rather than live within my uncomfortable comfort zone- a routine of wake up, coffee, check email/facebook, go to work, go to the pub, go back to work, have a glass of wine, go home, check email/facebook, sleep.... (Ok, I skipped a few important bits- I do (thankfully for the rest of you) shower and get dressed every day...And eat rather too many times to include in this list for repetitions' sake...But you get the general idea) and bemoan the fact that 'bloody Dubai still haven't got in touch....I though I'd better take action. And yes, Maximo, I do still have to wait until September, but at least I made a decision. And took the first step towards change. So shut up! I also have many things to do between now and September (including my 10 day silence) like go to Barca and Greenbelt and to see Mos Def and Pygmalion and my Grannies.... So, yes. September is perfect. Let's just hope that this little certainty doesn't go changing on me. Apparently AirMiles are non-refundable....

 I don't mean to litter my thoughts with other people's quotes but  I'd probably be accused of ripping them off if I tried to paraphrase in some way so.... "Become the change you want to see in the world" (Gandhi). I'm not gonna stop trying to change the world, but I am going to (little by little) become the change I'd like to see.... And hope that I may inspire others to do the same.
I guess my point is, if there's something you want to do, something you want to change, do it. Now. Tomorrow might be too late. As for me... September better not be.....!

Peace and Love.

Obama, Osama, it's all the same....

I awoke this morning bleary eyed, and very late, to be told "the world is a very different place from when you went to bed..." As my mind tried to process what the hell could have happened, I uttered the word 'how?' "They've captured, killed and buried Osama Bin Laden." What? I burst into tears. And no, I'm not a terrorist, nor a muslim, just a person. A part of humanity. As we all are. Like it or not.

 Ok, so I'm feeling a bit premenstrual and I know that Osama Bin Laden's many acts of violence against both muslims and non-muslims cannot be defended nor accepted but, it's just all so wrong. When muslims celebrated (though many, many more did not) the attacks on the twin towers (sorry, but I am still not convinced this even was Osama's masterminded plan, but that's not actually relevant right now...)  they were condemned by the propaganda machine that is Washington and their behaviour cited as 'proof' that all muslims are extremists and enemies of The West.

Today, spontaneous parties erupted all over America in response to the news of this 'monsters'' assassination. Murder. What the fuck? Since when did murder, judgement, non-forgiveness, the upholding of division, fear and hatred become things to be revered and celebrated in our societies? Why is murder by one side a terrible heinous crime, but something to be rejoiced in by the other? What has the world actually gained today? Safety? Reassurance? Security? I, for one, am neither feeling safer, reassured nor more secure in the knowledge that our Governments (let's face it, we're all America's bitches... Except maybe China....) think that murder, war and violence and the associated poverty, grief and destruction are necessary, acceptable tools to control resources, people and outdated systems of power.

I'm no expert (clearly) politics-wise, but I know that killing people is wrong. Whoever you are. Whatever they did. As Ghandi said (and this quote has been bandied about a few times today, at least...) 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind...' Maybe we are blind. Or forgetful. Or stupid, unthinking sheep who quietly (or not so quietly judging by the scenes in NYC) accept whatever the powers that be tell us in order to maintain the status quo... Maybe we'll wake up soon and realise that, actually, people are people. We all fuck up. Some of us royally. Some of us catastrophically.... To err is to be human an aw that... I just don't quite understand why some of us are allowed to fuck up, time and time again for the 'greater good' (ahem... America... Bullshit...) whilst others are murdered or persecuted for their pursuit of the same. We're all just following our own dreams, right? As crazy as they may be.

So, Obama, the president-of-African/Islamic-descent (Thanks for the clarification, Pete) who has not only been responsible for declaring war on Africa (albeit in a slightly less blatant way) but now too for taking out a 'Muslim leader' (he wasn't, he grossly misinterpreted the teachings of Islam. Clearly.) is the champion of the West. Out of these two men, seeking the same end (power, wealth, status, the adoption of their ideals and ideas...), he is the one that won through. For now. Until his puppet masters decide that, like Bin laden (previously Osama was embraced as a Saudi 'hero' by Raegan's administration....) he has served his cause, at least.

We live in crazy times. Though, despite that, it was nice of them to put off the release of this 'world-changing' information until after the nuptials of Wills and Kate, wasn't it?

Peace and Love.

Ay-o, I'm tired of using technology....

Well, that's not strictly true seen as how I'm using a rather snazzy laptop to type this on, but I love that song and it kind of fits with my thought for today.... Last night, I was asked, by a very lovely friend, the kind of question that, many moons ago, I would have found myself asking and obsessing over. The story goes.... "I went on a date last week, it went really well, we had a bit of a smooch afterwards and exchanged text messages... he said that he'd had a lovely time, that we should do it again. The following day we texted (when did this become a verb..?) a couple of times and then on Friday, I texted him asking if he was getting in the spirit of the royal wedding. He replied 'you want to marry me already? LOL' (I hate LOL) so I responded 'no, I'm just at work (she works at a nursery) making crowns with the kids.... do you want to go for a few drinks on Monday?'

Then, nothing. No more texts since Friday morning. And the dreaded question, why do you think that is?"

I don't know. I don't care. Maybe he's lost his phone. Maybe he secretly wanted to marry you already. Maybe he's already married. Maybe he's died in an horrific accident. Or hung himself because he thinks he's unattractive and un-marriable. He is, after all 39 years old.... Maybe he's just playing games. Does it actually matter? Ok, so you like the guy, but really? Why waste time and energy analysing the contents of text messages and snippets of conversation? Now, I'm not having a go at aforementioned lovely friend I am merely trying to make her realise that, actually, other people's actions are 1) uncontrollable and 2) quite irrelevant. All you can do in life is decide how you will respond to something. So, choosing to stress out and analyse and pontificate  is all very well and good but you must see that you are only succeeding in driving yourself crazy. You are awesome, believe it (All of you...). You don't (shouldn't) need validation from some guy, or girl, or anyone else. I've said many times, fuck what society says, live your life, have fun.... Relax. I know you've a 16 year old girl to think about, but wouldn't you rather she saw her Mum cope with all of life's (very) minor setbacks in a positive and balanced manner? Shouldn't she learn that people are people with their own lives to lead, regardless of what we may want them to do or not do...?

I think so. And I also think that, at least once a week, everybody should leave their phone off for a whole day, stay off facebook and email and spend time with themselves doing something that they love. Sunbathe naked in the garden. Read a book. Go to a museum. Eat out. Do something. All by yourself.

Peace and Love.

Pass the Ritalin.

 I don't know whether it's the hangover or my perpetual state of ADHD which is wearing me down but either way, I am beginning to feel more than a little restless. Is it all just a test of my commitment to my chilled-out-zen-like existence.... ? And of my patience and faith in the cosmos? I hope so.... but the more time I spend in Britain (as truly wonderful as both the hospitality and the weather have been and as thankful as I am for the same) the more I find myself wondering what the bloody hell I'm doing. Other than wasting precious days of my already meagre existence. Though, that said, I did meet some lovely people yesterday. And some very happy pigs.

It's all very comfortable you see, settled... home-cooked meals, my own (very messy) room, glasses of delicious wine in the garden, use of a super-fast Audi (I'm not confident of hanging onto my licence for much longer), an easy wee job with lovely people.... And I've discovered that I'm not very comfortable with being comfortable. Nor settled. Hence wanting to live in a van and go on a pilgrimage and a Buddhist retreat I suppose....

So, on the path to enlightenment and self-knowledge, I need to figure out what my aversion is to being settled before I go unsettling myself again, on a whim, to wherever life takes me... The next throw of the dice (thanks Craig)... but that's harder than it seems. And when I ponder it, really ponder it, it makes me sad. Which, if nothing else, is a sure sign I'm onto something... I feel like it's all a trap, you see. Like the Junk Lady's room in Labyrinth (possibly why my room is full of junk.... ). It's not real. All this shit we surround ourselves with. The routine, the familiar faces, familiar ideas, familiar environments.... Never really pushing ourselves to do something new, something different. Get out there. See the world. Just the same old thing day in, day out....

It's boring. It's stupid. And it's a waste of a life, my life at any rate... Life isn't comfortable. Life isn't settled. So, until July 6th (and the ensuing silence) I shall enjoy being comfortable and settled (and meeting wonderful people and pigs), safe in the knowledge that the walls will all, soon enough, come crashing down.

For now, I'm off to meditate in the garden. Peace and Love.

I am neither a cheese, nor a wine.

As my 29th birthday approaches (Friday... Aw, go on then, I'd really like a VW camper... any colour... ) I feel like I'm the only one who is unaffected by this perceived 'milestone'. No, it's not all downhill from here. No, I don't feel broody or in any way inclined to get (re)married, grow up and have kids. No, I don't think about the 'future', getting a 'real' job (who, pray tell, would bring all of you with such a thing your business lunches in Dunmow?), pensions or how to get a mortgage and thus secure (ha!) some sort of... I don't even know what... Seriously, I can think of nothing worse than to give up all of my dreams, hopes and aspirations for some sort of societal norm and its associated idea of 'acceptance'. Credence to anyone who makes such a sacrifice, to me it seems more challenging than the priesthood but, each to their own....

A few things, personal challenges if you like, that I intend to achieve this year, in no particular order, are;   return to Barcelona (party, party), attend a Buddhist meditation course (the crazy fuckers accepted me despite my unabashed honesty on the application form and I am now faced with ten days COMPLETE silence and super simple living.... I shall be accepting sponsorship closer to the time and donating anything raised (let's be honest, it's worth a punt...) to the centre), learn to fix aforementioned VW camper vans, get my music onto some sort of bootleg-able format (Big Tom, you're up....), remain patient and focused on the Dubai-Asia-South America plan (or the Universe's version of the same), make a video for 'The Aleph' and submit it in time, go to Glastonbury (with my Nan!!!!) and walk (or, should the van appear, drive) to Compostela all by myself.

These and about 500 other things... but these are the most important. So, in the light of this, rather jumbled but nonetheless very time-consuming, list I really feel that my life is a) far too busy to be thinking about 2nd husbands and all that jazz and b) not at all conducive to such things. I also really feel that I have so little time on this Earth (yes, thanks, you who shall remain anonymous, it is now even closer to its end...well, in your opinion... I'm with the Buddhists and re-incarnation. Or the Sumerians and off to Niburu for 3,600 years after this lifetime) I'd really like to spend it doing all the things I want, for me. Feeding the soul, learning, experiencing.... And it's enough of a job looking after myself half the time, never mind anyone else....

One other point is, there are so many wonderful people in my wee world just now, never mind the whole world at large (you should all know who you are.... If not, have faith) that the idea of locking myself (figuratively speaking) in a box, with one person (and 2.4 children and "a fucking big television"), forever and ever amen makes eating mushrooms and being adorned with tarantulas seem appealing. I just don't think I have it in me. So, pity away from your higher social status'... who knows, you may all be onto something. But I've always been one for a long-shot and I'm happy to say that no, I won't be calming down, chilling out or getting 'real' just because I'm pushing 30. I'm gonna get my van, travel the world and keep dating guys under 25. So there. (Hope the paragraphs helped, Manu ya old bastard!!)

Peace and Love.

Bird watching.

I LOVE Colin's Mum. She's Boss. And she has a beautiful garden full of birds and bees. Ornithology aside (learned a lot from your Mum, didn't you Col.....?!),

"False boobs, false nails, false teeth...." is her description of Liverpudlian lasses.

And it's not far off to be honest. I met some amazing people this weekend and must state for the record that they do not live up to this generalisation but, Jesus Christ, I have never seen anything like the girls in Merseyside... Except on the Only Way is Essex. Ok, I get the whole 'dolled-up' thing, just, but on a deeper level, what the fuck? It's utterly insane. Plastic surgery is becoming the norm and I, for one, am rather freaked out. I don't even understand why women cake their faces in make-up. Can't we just learn to look inward, get to know ourselves and be cool with who we are? It doesn't matter what you look like. It really doesn't. There are things in this world that we should care about and try to change. The colour of our hair, eyes, or skin doesn't really deserve that attention. It won't make your life better if you inflate your breasts and your ego. It will lead to deeper insecurities. And it'll make you act like a dickhead. Seriously, the next time you find yourself applying fake tan, or even a little bit of mascara, (you too boys.....!) at least think about what you're doing and why you're doing it. Just notice it. It's all very good and well putting on a mask, but who is it that you're hiding from.....?
Peace and Love.

To thine own self be true....

Did Shakespeare write that? In Hamlet? I am unsure... anyways, it's a good start. And came to mind when, at lunchtime, I had a table of three ladies in for lunch. The simple act of one said lady ordering dessert after initially saying she wouldn't (because "they're being 'good', so so will I...") actually made me whoop with joy. They thought I was slightly deranged (maybe not, but their sideways glances at each other suggested that yes, they did....) but I was genuinely delighted. And I hadn't even managed to get the words, on the tip of my tongue, that she should not base her decision on theirs out.... Freedom of Thought 1, Group Mentality 0. How often do we question our behaviour? And how often do we find ourselves going along with the crowd, maintaining the status quo, rather than fulfil ourselves and go against the grain? I would say not nearly often enough and far too bloody often, respectively. This may seem very trivial, it was just a couple of slices of banana bread and some toffee sauce for God's sake. She didn't even eat the ice cream... But, in the grand scheme of things, in our daily lives we really should be paying attention to such things. Are we standing up for our rights, for what we want, for what we believe....? Too often, the answer to these questions, and  a hundred more like them, is no. We have to be brave enough to say what we think, to have differing opinions and to stand out in the crowd. In this case, it was just a tasty treat at stake. Much more frequently these days, it's so much more.
Peace and Love

Pesky pescatrianism.

I could win prizes for my fussy eating- none of this faddy dieting to lose two stone in a week shit (though I recommend the barcelona diet to anyone on that buzz...) but genuine fussiness. Like a kid. Mostly, it's a texture issue and I often say "I don't like chewy stuff" (things you have to chew for so long your jaw starts to ache, like meat) but this isn't strictly true as I love Glasgow rolls and they are possibly the chewiest thing on Earth. And mushrooms, which I fear more than spiders (more so now I've seen how they can mummify insects from the inside out and then sprout a mushroom out through their brains....All the evidence I need that I was on to something with all this Funghi-avoidance a long time ago...) are not so much "chewy" as "squidgy" but then so too is smoked cheese and prawns and scallops and I quite like those things. Which brings me, kind of, to today's pondering. I have been feeling two things today with regards to yesterdays trip to the shed (and more generally in recent weeks) and the first is that it was a tasty treat and the second is, and this, as I say, has been niggling me for a while now.... guilt. Now, I don't think I know many vegetarians and this isn't any sort of 'everyone stop eating meat and save the cows...' chat, it's just a personal thing that goes back into my childhood. So, yes, anyway... I do feel really bad. And though my love affair with seafood is a fairly new (yet still spectacularly difficult)  relationship, I have oft wondered whether it's actually worth it. Generally I like (cooked ie. hot) white fish (though salmon is ok, sometimes), prawns (not so much the little ones, just the big ones...), lobster and fishfingers and at times, like when I've eaten scallops and clams, I have been even braver in my sea critter eating (yesterday I tried a razor clam. Rank). However, every time I eat seafood I do feel incredibly guilty. You see, it's the way we treat the animals that we eat that irks me (not just the fish, but fish are the only animals I eat....)- the fact that we take far more than we'll ever need and that we do it as if it's our God-given right. But I don't believe in God. And I don't believe it's our right. Without getting into the ethics of it all and sounding like a bible-basher, of sorts, I shall suffice to say that, at the very least, we should all take a bit more responsibility for the animals with whom we share our planet. And, if their days are numbered (or their flanks as I saw on a field full of wee lambs the other day (I refrained from sobbing. Just)) then we should at least treat them well and respect the huge favour they're doing us. Jesus gave his life (allegedly) and look at the bloody recognition he gets for God's sake...  Ok, I understand that this may (does) seem OTT to all of you, but eating fish was a big thing for me a few years ago and is something I've battled with internally... (As ridiculous as I know that sounds, because I've just read it back). Anyways, I shall leave it there. I'm off to watch Finding Nemo. Respect. Peace and Love.

Mind control

I'm waiting for a lot of things right now. And coping surprisingly well, considering how much I HATE (D) waiting. But, as part of the 'new and improved Zen-like mindset' I am learning that, actually, waiting's ok. And whilst you're waiting you can fill your time, and mind, with random soul-fulfilling activities. Like blog-writing whilst waiting for delicious smelling soup... (Despite the fact that I stuffed my face, in a shed, at lunchtime with prawns (one of whom, revoltingly, was pregnant. Ewww!) and fishcakes and then tea and scone- singular). And practising thinking about a) nothing at all or b) thinking about things in a new and positive way. (Yes, Sasha, that lady is doing your head in with her ranting and negativity and overuse of the word 'tart' but, actually she's a very lovely person and is just venting her emotions- rather ineloquently- with regards to George (very lovely horse) after he was starved very nearly to death). I have developed MPD within my own head. But I like it. Also, walking round a field picking up horse shit. Who'd have thought....? This is an activity I have pursued many times in my life (not for fun, you see, but necessity), always with an 'Ugh, I can't be arsed, the wheelbarrow weighs a ton, it's cold, it's disgusting... If you switch off the voice in your head, this becomes a lovely experience, filled with the sounds of birds, the wind, gunshots. Ok, they're not lovely, but you know what I mean. Even the gunshots, actually.... It was like punctuation every now and then. And it was freaking Rio out (stuck-up, lady-who-luches-type horse) which made me laugh. I actually felt like I could hear her "Agh! What the devil was that frightful noise...?" I think I could on some level...
So, whilst waiting to hear from Dubai, waiting to get the van to drive to Asia, waiting for the Universe to show me it's time to jet off to South America... I'm learning to love every single moment, every single day. Like seeing tiger stripes where, in actuality, there are horrible big scratches down the side of Pete's car that he so kindly lent me (oops). And loving Ginger (the little cunt) even though he dumped me in a puddle and then catapulted me through the air whilst standing laughing at me (as much as a horse can laugh....) loving my work and the people I work with... even the 'but dear, you work in a restaurant, you should know which white wine is drier...' Well, I don't, so why don't you taste them all and let me know... made one 'delightful' customer's day. Between patience, understanding and a little bit of positivity, we could all make this world a much better place. Don't send out negative thoughts, there's already a ridiculous abundance  of them. Whenever you catch yourself feeling pissed off, frustrated, impatient, overwhelmed by piles and piles of horse shit..... Just smile, switch off the voice in your head and think...... nothing. Life is what it is, all you can do is change your response to it....
Peace and Love.

Where is the love...?

Ok, I don't profess to have all, or indeed any, of the answers but, given that it's free to ask (bear this in mind, always... there is a reason that 'how' and 'why' are two favourite words amongst children....another two being 'no' and 'when?') I thought I'd try to articulate some of the thoughts invading my 'quiet, reflective' time of late....'Where to start?' I was thinking this morning, whilst still trying to wake up (literally and symbolically) over a coffee and my Rudolf Steiner book at work... When in walked two old men to ask if we were open for the partaking of the aforementioned hot beverage. Looking at my cup, an hour before we opened, I couldn't really say 'no' and besides, they looked like friendly bears. Though not literally, just to clarify for any autistic readers. They sat in the window (again, not literally), chatting quietly whilst I continued with my book... Half an hour later, when they came over to pay (I had since put my book down and was distractedly polishing glasses), one of them asked me "how do you feel about this situation in Libya and the middle East?" Well, I thought he'd read my mind, for one, and, slightly freaked out, but curious, I said "I think it's all incredibly sad and that it's a shame our 'leaders' think that war's the answer". The three of us spent a few minutes agreeing that yes it was very sad but admitting that we had little idea as to what to do about it. I did suggest that if I could just gain access to DC's Downing Street abode one night I could (after calming him, obviously) make this power and cash hungry public-school-prick see sense. And then get him to get Obama on the phone and.... Well, anyways, suffice to say, this was not the expected response and so, despite the initial promise of the situation, they eyed me suspiciously, placed a leaflet on the bar and said "maybe you'd like to read this, keep an open mind..." and off they went. Slightly perturbed to have lost my enthusiastic, world-changing new pals, I picked up the leaflet. Jehovah's Witnesses. Excellent. Well, they'd asked nicely and so I kept an open mind, read the leaflet and then put it away. It's all a bit much, you see.. all Bible quotes and 'The Promise of a New World' for the 'Righteous...' How about just a lovely new world for all of us...? I'm not righteous (I'm not even entirely sure what it means, but I don't like it. My soul is unhappy with the terminology). Who is? Who are we to judge our fellow man? (Or woman...?) Ok, so some people do our heads in, some people commit crimes, some people just aren't like us. Or you. Or me. And what? We really are all one and the same. We are all responsible for each other. We all fuck up. Nobody is more virtuous or more deserving than anyone else. So yeah, I'm sad for libya, but I'm sadder for humanity. We're all Libya. We're all oppressed. We're all slaves to one system or another. What we choose to do about it is up to us. So what are we gonna do.....? Answers on a postcard.
Peace and Love

Should I give a fuck...?

Awright? I'm having a bit of a dilemma... Well, I'm not, other people are... It has recently come to my attention (very recently, seen as how this is only four days in....) that some people would very much like to be able to recommend my ramblings to a wider audience, but in order to do so request that I tone down the 'offensive' language. In short, I'm being censored. Or being asked to censor myself. What say you? The people? My friends? My feelings shall remain within the confines of my mind for now so as not to influence you.... To Bleep or not to Bleep, that is the question. Peace and Love.

Agh....people are such cunts to waiters, is there any need....?!!

Ok, so I'm a little sensitive. I've just worked my ass off on a double shift, alone on the floor, and have just about had my fill of 'ladies who lunch'. and dinner for that matter. Seriously, where did this breed of person even crawl from..? They're fucking with my Chi whomever they are... Firstly, is it right to complain (at least 5 times, as each new person joins the group) that your husband bought you a potato masher for your birthday...??  And then, get arsey with the waitress (read me) for taking the piss..? It's FUNNY!! And maybe your mashed potatoes are shit. And then, blissfully unaware that your waitress is a trained teacher, slag off teachers as 'stuck-up' and disrespectful of support staff (these ladies who lunch were, in actuality, 8 Learning Assistants) whilst being both these things (and worse) to the poor fucker running around after your fat asses...? Who, by the way, is a teacher and your SUPERIOR anyway. Ok, that off my chest, BIG UP to the lovely wheel-chair bound old lady whose false teeth got stuck to the treacle tart and to the lovely table of four people who kept saying how contagious my smile (though I think it's safe to assume anyone's smile...) is... You guys helped me through.
Keep smiling... Peace and love

The labyrinth that is life....

Ok, funny how I had so many ideas, so many opinions, so much shit to get off my chest and now, I don't know where to start...! In part, this is due to the fact that I have a lot more research to do in some areas and partly because, you don't really know where you're going until you start the journey. So, day-by-day, as I have come to view and live my life, poco-a-poco, is how I shall continue here....

A sort of 'Sasha's random thoughts and inspirations....'

I was talking recently (for a change) about how the movies you grow up watching seem to play out in your life. The ones you feel a particular resonance with... Your favourites. I don't know how many of my friends are going to suddenly delete me for my random Hippy-esque ramblings and frankly, I don't give a fuck, but it's something to think about nonetheless....

My three favourite films of all time are Labyrinth, ET and Watership Down (which, now, is quite terrifying...). 

Ok, so, yes, I am fascinated by the Labyrinth symbology in the world as a whole and could ramble on for ages... But I shall refrain. Look it up if you're interested. It's fascinating. And I can supply hundreds of references. This is meant to be a personal account, a making-sense-of-my-life and sharing with the people I love and care about. Which, actually, is all of humanity but we'll aim a little lower than that to start with...

Barcelona was like my labyrinth, not only in its physical manifestation (Gotico, anyone? After a few too many tequilas....) but in all that it came to represent.  I LOVE Barcelona, don't get me wrong, but in loving barcelona, I lost myself and lost my path... Distracted by the many fun and crazy characters I met along the way, endless parties (And I mean endless, I'm pretty sure the last one's still going on 5 weeks later...) and the beauty of the world in which I'd enveloped myself, I forgot that I went there with a purpose, that I'd been looking for something. In short, I had to burst the bubble and escape my very own Goblin King. (No Peter, it wasn't you....)

Without going on too much, which is difficult for me, I wanted to learn Spanish and I had an unidentified 'urge' to go to Barcelona so, off I went. (Well, off we went but that's another story). In my car (which promptly got towed away) to Catalonia, where they don't speak Spanish but Catalan. Good start. Two years later, Castillano in the bag (I like to think, though the laughter I still manage to rouse from my Spaniard pals is testament to the fact that the acquisition and mastery of a language is an ongoing process...) I began to feel frustrated, angry and lost.  I was numbing my emotions with home-made (thanks Lads, beware the helicopters) concoctions in an attempt to escape the reality which I had created for myself.

It took a lot of soul searching and the appearance of my first, acknowledged, guardian angel (Argentina, I love you) to realise that the demons of my past had to be met, confronted and left behind. And that I couldn't do that by running away to Morocco, but had to do the thing which terrified me most and return to Britain. England, for fuck's sake.... Now, at the centre of my labyrinth, I have faced the Goblin King (more on him another time... Actually, her....maybe) and am ready to emerge from the darkness and start anew....

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, my Kingdom as great... You have no power over me..... "

I'm gonna leave the other two for now as I feel this has gone on long enough... !! Watership Down relates to our (fucked-up, forgotten) relationship with nature and ET, obviously, to our relationship with the Universe as a whole... So, be prepared.

Also, before I go, when you know what you want, what you really, really want (Big up the Spice Girls...) the Universe has a strange and amazing ability to provide all that your heart desires. Paulo Coelho's got nothing on me... Just yesterday (and this is by no means the only such thing to have happened to me recently) I was talking about needing to find somewhere to go (horse)riding around here (South East England). I asked a few people, all of whom assured me they were 'not horsey types' (thank God) but, as such, had no idea. Today, on a detour to get some mint (they didn't have any but I am soon to be the proud grower/cultivator of runner beans) I came across a notice at the garden centre, asking for help with a 13h  (small) pony. Thinking it was (probably) going to be some 14 year old rich kid who'd got bored with her new toy, I went along to meet her feeling slightly apprehensive and quite prepared to be laughed out of the yard (I too, am no 'horsey type', although, strangely, this breed of elite only exists in the UK). Imagine my surprise (I LOVE that phrase, good for angry letter-writing) when I was greeted by the most down-to-Earth, non-snobby lady surrounded by her four snotty-nosed kids (by no means a slight, I love snotty-nosed kids) thigh deep in horse shit. Well, you may be horrified, but I was overjoyed. This woman is AMAZING. She rescues maltreated horses, just for the love of it. And she needs someone to help her exercise all 5 of them because she works every day in order to pay for them and she has 4 children under 6. Her husband is at home bringing up the kids and mucks in (or out, as the case most definitely is) by doing the feeds and other maintenance stuff (he built the stables in a big old barn) as he doesn't ride and has no intention of learning. As a couple, they never have meals out (too expensive) or 5 minutes for themselves (4 children) so now, not only do they have a horse-exerciser, they also have a very willing (and free) babysitter. I don't know what people make of stuff like this, but I think it's awesome. I fucking love the Universe and its strange ways of bringing the right people together at just the right time.
Peace and Love.

Hurrah!

Well, that was easier than I'd thought it would be. 

I've been meaning to do this for a number of years but have never felt a real need to do so until very recently. It's a nice idea, slightly self-indulgent though it is, to be able to communicate your ideas to the rest of the world. I guess I'm on a bit of a spiritual journey, as we all are, and in trying to make sense of the world around me, I am reaching out. 

I'll be back.....