Monday, 15 December 2014

Strength, vulnerability and Christmas love

It has occurred to me that there is a big difference between being strong and having feelings that make you vulnerable and make you human.
I think it was Buffy the Vampire Slayer who was the first person to ever make me think about this (;)), and recently I have experienced it first hand.
I have had to learn self reliance, yes. I have had to distance myself emotionally from my patients in order to cope with some pretty deep feelings. And maybe I spend too much time doing that. Maybe it is not a bad thing for my children to see me acting like a fishwife every now and again and losing the plot: not always calculated and measured. Maybe it's good for them to see that their mother is human, and vulnerable, and ok the next morning, like that oak tree.
I think the hardest thing is the feeling of falling in a whirlpool and losing control. Nothing a big cry and a sincere phone call to a friend does not fix.
Which brings me to my Christmas wish: I hope that this Christmas I can simply be thankful for all I have. Not the material stuff, not the stuff with price tags; but the knowledge that when I'm really in trouble, I've got at least 5 phone numbers I can try before I need to resort to kicking the punching bag. And my health, my ability to face another year with my health. reasonably intact. Thank you to all those I love, my family, my kids, my friends, my animals. Because they are what makes getting up every morning worthwhile. And if this makes me a little vulnerable and shed a few tears at Christmas, so be it. I plan to embrace my vulnerability in 2015. It's part of me. Love, Yellowfluff. ❤️fi

Monday, 8 December 2014

OAK TREE

I am an oak tree. 
I am large, solid. 
Quercus. Astonishing really, I am a little quirky. 
My wood is hard, strong. 
I am resistant to attack by parasites, so I am so infinitely useful. 
Easily recognisable, I stand out of the crowd. 
I am a symbol of endurance. 
Infinite complexity has shaped my years of enduring. 
My roots dig deep into the earth, 
searching, gathering further complexity and aiding in my growth. 
I hardly need watering. I can stand on my own. 
And yet,
you wouldn't choose an oak to adorn your garden.
You would choose something more delicate,
a birch maybe, or a flower that will die the first time temperatures soar. 
At the end of the day,
strength and endurance are not what people want in their gardens.
They want a waif like, weak tree they have to nurture, invest in, take infinite care of. 
I stand, I wait. 

I burn with the same intensity when flames lick my limbs,
I break along the same lines as other woods. 
My leaves rage in the storm the same as other trees. 
I just reliably stand the morning after. 
I don't want to be a fragile flower, 
or a birch tree that dies in the Australian climate. 
But I do want to adorn a special garden. 
I wait, and endure, as is customary for me. 
Another season, another year. 



Winged

  If my wings were not tethered, My freedom would not be this limited. If my wings were not tethered, I would be a winged marvel. Ocean,...