Unconditional love….

"Imagine two people. One is happy, independent. Complete. Another person comes along who is also happy. Together the energy between them is amazing. They feed off each other and it is almost better than before.

Then out of nowhere, one begins to close off to the other. Maybe they are fearful, maybe they need to be in control, maybe they are wanting more... so they stop giving. The other person may respond by pulling away too. They may begin to mirror what the other is doing -  mirroring the fearful person and in that way they are bringing themselves down to that level… to protect themselves it seems. And then a drama begins with both people fighting for affection, both unwilling to give freely like before. One concludes to only give when the other gives and take away as much as the other takes away…

But in unconditional love...

The person who is less fearful first says "here -  have the energy you want from me. Take it"

Then they intern turn around and refill elsewhere from other things they have happening in their lives – other things that bring them that needed love and joy and completeness. They have no need to fight for that limited source of love. And this means they can give freely without expectation or need of receiving anything back. Sure, they too could start getting a bit fearful and can’t help but want to mirror their partner but this is unconditional love – it sets no conditions. It gives first and carries on doing so. It flourishes when mutual but shines more when tested. That’s where its strength is and so it grows…”

the true Ms Bride

And so while I sit in a pond of growing debt, I cant help but wonder on choices made and on what the important things in life really are.

How is it that we define our happiness on the things we have? What happened to the days when simple was king and bargain was the plan? I suppose things like that were long trodden on by hungry profit makers and those who could not be bothered by the weeklings that gained most from the bargains and the simples.

There are 5 of us near me and while unspoken, I cant help but wonder if the long anticipated excitement was just another page of that fairytale stuff – who was the idiot that started on that ideal anyway?! On the carpet on yet another rainy day, the teacher would sit there and read to us of princess after princess whose biggest concern was some spell and step mother. Why did those stories not come with some sort of disclaimer to say while such concerns where unreal – what was to be expected was far more worse. Someone should have told us – together with other impressions given by such stories – that there would be no fairy godmother to fix, there would be no spell to break and there would defiantly be no prince to take it all away with a kiss. I say someone should have sat us down in the very next class to tell of what we would face instead.

We sat there and had our eyes glaze over at dreams of fairytales of our own. We were allowed to carry on and no one of the adult population dared to pop this bubble. Instead we sat in high school in time consuming guidance lessons on yet another SWOT analysing session (how the hell do I SWOT this!!!????). Somebody should have told us – told ME that I would one day be sitting in this puddle and while the first reaction would be to panic and maybe even try to bury my head in the sand – the best cause of action at this point would be to put on the damn tight swimming cap and hope I did enough breathing techniques to last me through this sea of the damed.

This is no longer a puddle and debt is not my problem! this has become a damn sea of untolds and the key, i hear, is to swim along…

Hi, my name is Ms Bride and I see a bridge to jump off… looking at the other 5, I ask – do you wanna join me?

Find me at the bus stop!

Its been a good 5 months since the “knock” and looking back, I would like to think that I walk towards the exit sign a calmer, more mature psycho then I was going in.
It is said that: what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger… I'm not sure if that is quite correct but I would like to rather put it as: what doesn’t kill us, changes us - and that is what I believe has happened to me.

Granted, my tolerance levels have dropped but, gone are the days when I walked around clueless and less afflicted by my surroundings. Through it all, I managed to come out of all this able to discuss it calmly and still manage to smile honestly. I would like to think that I have become more appreciative and that FINALLY – I realize where my value and valuables are at.

I love the look of confidence that I give to my minders. The look that says: I know you thought I wouldn’t but I did – and while I'm at it – don’t I look great? Lol

No. Honestly, umm I have gone through most of my existence with a band of minders who I know have waited in bated breath for the time when I will rise no more. I have known for some time that, it is not all that smile my way who do so simply as an honest feeling but more like a search to see if I will return a smile back… and well I do – honestly and for the first time it feels good.

Why it happens though is beyond me. Why is it that we thrive on the afflictions of others? Why is it that we wait for our enviers to fall before we feel like we have made it/ that we can make it?

I'm ready.
I'm ready to do honest and straight.
I'm ready to let in essential and remove all dirt – with pride too I may add.

Amongst all the  **** that came in with the “knock”, I have found that it brought a sense of freedom too. Freedom from the things I thought defined me. From the things that I held so tightly to, bounded by the idea that they make me – they didn’t! They don’t! 

A psycho I remain but one with more depth and understanding…  

Now at the brink of yet another different direction I take, I cant help but be filled with the hopes for a better rest of my life. There will be, yes, moments of pure panic (like only I can do them) and tones more tears but I'm sure ill be just fine.

Standing at the street corner waiting for the next ride into new experiences, I have my shoes polished, my lunch packed and a broad smile on my face…

“I will prove them wrong”, I muse.

Time has come for GoT to explore the other side of things and it starts her…

                                Taking the plunge from Miss Ree to a freaking fancy MRS REE!!!

the silly crush...

At exactly 3:30pm every single week day, I would find some reason to pass in front of our gate or be out side doing something I couldn’t explain. This would be coupled with a fresh coat of lip-gloss and a quick run through my hair as I tried hard not to look up before the strategically planed moment to get that eye contact. In my carefully selected outfit and ever so casual look, I waited in bated breath for him to pass.

*Deep breath* there he comes. Down the road he approached and had this thing going on about the way he walked. You know how those slow motion moments are played out in the movies? This was something of the sort and with every step he took, my heart beats faster and I take in the moment of sheer adolescent indulgence.

He walks by with out a word and as soon as he disappears into his yard, I float back into the house to new versions of the ongoing fantasy in my mind when he will finally pass by and say “Hi – what’s up?”

Shooo I would die.

i was 15 and there was a wonderful creation living next door. Crazy how these things work themselves out and thoughts about that now leave me giggling at my crazy 15-year-old self.

Boy am I glad that time is over and done with.

A girl friend and I started chatting on What’sApp and she was going on and on about the crazy bug that bit her. She was mentioning all these possibilities that could happen if this and that were to happen. She animatedly went on about a future that involved this individual and I couldn’t help but giggle at how silly she was sounding. And then, the dreaded thing happened.

I asked “…so what does he say to all these ideas of yours?”

Her answer “…SAY?????? He says nothing! I have never spoken to him!”

My reaction: I laughed so hard and praised the fact that this conversation was over social networking because that allowed me the comfort of laughing my head off at my friend, without her seeing me and simply sending her an LOL knowing her feelings wont be that hurt!

Here was a fully grown women behaving in a way that was identical to the 15 year old me and she didn’t even realise it.

There should be some sort of treatment from crushes as they lead one to behave in crazy ways. There were so many times I did crazy things to get the boy’s attention besides the obvious. The obvious, of course, would be to walk up to him and say hi. I would pass in his gaze a couple of times hoping he would see me and not anything else behind me or in my direction. These sort of things came coupled with thoughts of what-ifs and could-be’s. It kept me happy. If fuelled the fantasies and kept me content.

How is it though that we get like this when it comes to matters of the heart? No one is ever sure about how exactly it should be. We all have some sort of idea yes that we dish out it bucket loads to others but truth be told – there really isn’t a one-solution-for-all-situations kind of thing.

The way I see it, its either there or not. If he keeps passing you by the gate everyday and doesn’t bother to say ‘hi’ (even if for just being polite), then its time to recast the main man in your fantasies… a new guy who will even see you. Of cause this would have been great had someone told 15-year-old me as it would have saved my growing heart from what was to happen a few weeks later followed by even more idiotic versions of my fantasies…

… so on that day, as with the other days, I waited outside for him to pass. This time though he didn’t come alone. He had a GIRL with him. Hand around waist and irritating giggles coming from her as she enjoyed what should have been mine. Oh how my heart broke as I disappeared into our yard with plans of revenge. After I had calmed down, I did the most logical thing…

Fantasy continued: she had blackmailed him and he had no choice but to be with her. Deep down, he wanted me!

Of cause what had happened was obvious: SOMEONE ELSE BEAT ME TO APPROACHING HIM AND SAYING ‘HI’…

Girl on the fence

We have always been told that this is how the order of things goes and we should not rock the boat but comply.

That’s all good and well with things that make sense but as it goes with me - like the other millions of things in my head, I cant help but question this and wonder of my sanity for even wanting to change it.

A girl SHOULD wanna get married and she SHOULD have it in her to take care of the man she loves and help him build a warm home for the both of them. Sure, this girl also does have the choice to remain single and focus on other things and gone are the times when society would frown upon such a decision. What happens though when this said girl simply wants to love her man and skip the whole taking care of him part?

See, here I refer to a girl who although being capable of doing the caring thing, wishes she could rather skip it. Reasons? Fear I suppose. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the women she has to turn out to be when looking at the perfect patrial her mother has set. Why could it not be that girl love her man but stay at her own place and take care of herself ONLY?

Its an awkward place to be yes since all around her all the other girls are doing just what is expected of them. They get married. They bare children. They pine away if not married with anticipation and hope. They firmly stand by the choice to leave it all behind and handle it with simple grace. And then there is this girl that is sitting on the fence – quite comfortably too if I may add. Fence though starts to poke at here when the stares and frowns make her shift around uncomfortably realizing that she has to make a choice that she will have to stick with for a life time: love her man AND take care of him OR leave it all behind and run at it alone forever.

Imagine the looks when girl gets off the fence….

In under tones they whisper and point wondering why she has decided on that side of the fence. It becomes the talk of the town and there is such an unnecessary vibe around the side of the fence girl is walking around on. What happens next shocks the masses the most…

Girl climbs back on the fence and sits…

(see girl needed a glass of water and she got down to go get. As to the side of the fence she decided to jump into to get the water – well that was all depending on which side she was facing when she got extremely thirsty…)

The crazy hype that just happens goes on to prove my point and make my resolve super difficult - We have always been told that this is how the order of things goes and we should not rock the boat but comply.

All I can do at this point is fight hard the urge to rock the damn boat and hope everyone else holds on really tight!

Case of Money Maker sorted!

I'm a big girl. I shall not be bitter.

I shall not show a hint of bitterness cause my mama taught me better then that…

Oh hell – who am I fooling?

It totally grinds me see how certain things tend to fall into the laps of some people. Take our secretary for example. So she landed a huge Money Maker husband and just got a bra nd new Toyota J-something (first ever that I have seen). How the hell did she manage that? (pulling out my notebook to take notes).

There are those days when I honestly wonder if it even is worth it. This is usually on those days when I look back on how long I have been at this and notice how the most I have managed to get actually, has been low levels of joy. I also want a J-something and the feeling of coming to work yet knowing so well that I actually don’t have to. I wanna be a jumper lady too (the tiny ladies that JUMP off from their huge cars). I think it is the ideal that most of us girls have – to either land that huge Money Maker hubby or do it all for ourselves. (Looking at the statistics though of the number of ELIGIBLE Money Makers left kinda  cuts my options in a huge way).

And so (as the most reasonable option), I start on the personal missions to get there all on my own. There are many evenings that I can barely make it through the door before I collapse on my couch breathless from the day’s hustles. I believe I have pushed it good so far and while I may not be where I really want to be, I know I'm pretty comfortable. Yet see, this comfort range tends to bring with it a certain dependency that leaves you wanting more. Oh hell! I'm not even 25 yet and here I am with a DEPENDENCY.

 He will get me that J-something and he will get me that Top Billing house. Yet what more does he give?

I then decide to take a closer look at my new mentor (like how I have been taught) and wonder if really these are the kind of notes I should be taking.

It’s the mornings of swollen eyes and snap backs that have me thinking twice. We hear of door slams, and being kicked out of the house or the “I don’t care” attitude that is at times gets dragged along with to the office after yet another morning of hectic words being thrown to-and-fro that actually have me taking a step back. (did Money Maker buy her a house that came with a lunatic?)

This situation screams new facts that Mrs Money Maker fails to mention. See, along with the J-something, the mansion and the fully loaded walk in closets, comes great sacrifices to some of the essentials that ironically cant even be charged to that platinum card. It’s the constant shows we have played out infront of our eyes and the flashed fake smiles that have me seeing things in a new light and teaches a great lesson.

All the seemingly good stuff that we have flashed before our eyes comes at a certain price. If its not the selling of your soul to be their slave in terms of maintaining and acquiring more, its in the drained levels of joy that often lead to the swollen eyes. I think of the cross legged moment I had with Mr Man recently while sharing a McFlurry and remember how at that moment – I knew I was the happiest girl ever – would Money Maker be able to ensure such or would he be rushing of to yet another deal signing and ridiculous amounts of Champaign?

Don’t get me wrong – its great cushions to have (that sure would make the next planned girls road trip that much better) but I suppose the real question here comes down to this – AT WHAT COST?

I think I would like more the comforts of the layed back Sunday afternoon in the arms of Mr Man. I think I would prefer more a life time of calm sortings of our issues and not being made to feel like I'm only sticking around because of prenuptial Mrs Money Maker had to sign. And while ‘jumping-off’ would be a great past time, I would eventually have to go home and face my reality which unfortunately can not be replaced by a new one at the swipe of that card.

And so as I smile to myself at the ever so grown up conclusions that I have come up with – I pull out this weeks Watchtower Study article and eagerly look forward to the readings on “God’s Rest”

Girl-On-Top leaves these thoughts behind with a great lesson learned and an appreciation of the plans she has aligned for a future that will defiantly give that joy scale a wake up bashing and see it fly off far far away…

I believe I know I'm content!

A freaking change (lol)

I sat across a table populated by 3 of my best girl pals (the essentials) and I watched them laugh and shake their heads when I went into yet another fit about marriage.
“how the hell am I supposed to be ok with seeing this person EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of my evenings – which I have come to love as either quiet and calm while curled on my favourite spot on my couch OR being in track suits, duster in hand with Maroon 5’s Misery track blasting through my head phones while cleaning and dancing around in moves that my mirror and eyes have agreed are the best ever. And now I would just have this person in my space and face the whole time and I would have no option of either him or me getting up, kissing them goodnight and going home – to my place”
I think without realizing it, I built a really good comfortable relationship with being single and having my own space that an invasion to that almost seems unbearable. I love the idea of doing whatever whenever and not having to clear it with the other person first. Oh the horror of having to share the bed I have loved rolling in all night long and the thought of HAVING to make supper even if I don’t feel like supper. Oh man the pains of being a women confused and conformed by a modern society.
The girls all took turns trying to convince me that this picture I was painting should not be as bleak as I have made it.
“It’s not that bad!” my have-been-there-done-it-before friend speaks out. “When you love someone enough to marry them, you will love spending most of your space with them. If your relationship is healthy, you should never really get tired of being around them...”
“what...”, I answered while the look of horror gets worse followed by confusion and lack of understanding.
“well, you can take moments to do your own thing by yourself every once in a while,” another friend adds, “but it won’t be as bad as what you are saying”
I take a a HUGE gulp of the drink I was having and start to wonder if this is a sign of love-lacking on my part since clearly this “little technicality” seems to be too huge for ME to ignore.
Two days later and I still ponder on that conversation. Am I the only one who has a sort of problem with this? As much as I love my guy and I do get that the logical goal being chased here is marriage, I can’t help but worry a bit about the major changes that would have to take place with those 3 words (“yes I do”). I worry about the fact that I SHOULD be looking forward to all of this and it worries me a whole lot more when I think of the disapproving looks I get when I do mention these fears to some people.
Oh the morning rushes after being subjected to being seen at my grumpiest and with my pillow creased cheeks and blind feeling around while I try making it to the bathroom while making sure to open my eyes not much more then what is truly needed to get me there.
“its not that I don’t like my guy or anything”, I try to defend, “I just am not so thrilled at the prospect of the space invasion I imagine happening at that time”.
Then, while still kinda lost in thought about this dilemma of mine, I look up at him while he makes me a cup of coffee. He looks back at me, smiles and warms up the milk just for me. When all that was done, he gets closer, lets me lie on his chest and runs his hand across my back and kisses my forehead.

“so this is what you are freaking out about?”, the little voice in my head says and I smile realising the point and knowing that at that moment, there is nowhere else I would rather be then right here with him, in my space _ FOREVER!

The new book – INTRO page

29 March 2010, I started this blog while deep in the throws of a challenging moment in my world. Looking back at all the posts – the laughs, smiles, anger and pain – tells me that this has been one heck of a journey filled with experiences and appreciations.
29 July 2011, I stand at the brink of a new page or rather – a new book.
The prospect of a blank book that needs to be filled is both scary and exciting...
I look at the pile of books near me and I smile thinking of some of the situations that had me closing the currently opened one and starting a new one – 5 in total and I’m not even 25 yet!
“wow...”, I think when reminded of all the moments – including glasses of wine, crying marathons, fits of laughter (at the stupidity of the situation), burgers and sleep overs - it took to get me here.

I am grown!

Not so much age wise but more so experience wise. There is only so much bad dates and terrible hair days that a girl can go through and not finally get the hang of things (inbox me for tips). I have learned lessons too and I am wiser and CALMER. I fit comfortably in my shape and I openly let down the guard when around the ESSENTIALS, happy that its with them that I have found my good place.
I also finally have found my feet with new love. Gone are the days when I would have to stuff forcibly all the insecurities so I can present a SEEMINGLY polished version of me to him – holding my breath that he doesn’t see the rust and run. Now, I sit back and watch them jump into this box I have laid out. They seem to agree that they are no longer needed and bow out gracefully allowing me no choice but to be a deeply polished me – refined I said!
Now – the cover of this new book has a different look. I hope you all will approve of the new look of the blog and look ahead to posts about love, life and the girls I love.

This is: CONFESSIONS OF A GIRL ON TOP – Musings of a 24 year old!

Realizations done and appriciation grows!

There would always be a certain bad boy flair about him that made me sit up and stay interested. He would be the type to push boundaries and although he wasn’t at a level to be written off as bad-a$$ yet, he would have that slightly rude thing about him and could tell it off while remaining calm.

“its exciting” I would shout at my brain when it protested.

“live a little” I would plead with it and while it carried on to fight and resist this as much as it could, my heart and I were doing love dances all over and would so many times be left gasping for what would come next to take us on this high we had become addicted to.

This would be the one major characteristic about the guys I would date. “anything else would be a bore” I would defend.

“besides, he is not all bad...” I would continue while hiding the other incident where this particular one through risk out the window when he decided to kiss me while driving at speeds over 100 km/h one evening.

Yep, this is the type that I would be attracted to. It was the rush of not being ruled by rules that I loved most and the tendency to question them was a direction I would be heading in. “this is my true calling...” I through at my mind during another heated attempt to get me to see reason!

Until it all changed one day when finally after the hundredth time, I failed to find the strength to stand up after this type had thrown me to the floor AGAIN and didn’t even care to stop and see if I was ok.

“its exciting remember?” my mind mocked while sending out reinforcements to mop up the mess that this type had left.

For the longest time, I failed to understand this. How is it that after all that I had given this type, it never stopped to see if I was ok? Why was it that I finally hit rock bottom with no ability to dust myself off and get back on to this rollercoaster I had come to love and feed off?  I had it all planned out and yet at that very moment, I sat in a pile on the floor unable to piece it all together as to where it went wrong.

Out of pity, I assume, my brain came to sit and keep me company while I sat, lost in why’s maybe’s and other themes to my pity parties.

“allow me to explain this”, my brain started in a grown up serious tone, “there comes a time in a person’s life, when the real things in life become recognised. To some, it comes quickly and simply, yet for others, such as yourself, lessons need to be learned and realizations have to be made...”

The conversation carried on for days, only stopping to refuel. My mind seemed mature and grown. It made points that made things make sense. It allowed for questions and comforted me at times when the realizations came hard and fast yet it never judged me for the roads taken or choices made.

Many many many days later, this is the truth that my mind (through the strongest type of divine intervention, I believe) has helped me realize:

In the quest to find and define ourselves, we fall prey to what SEEMS like the type that we should become. We etch it deep in our minds and even go as far as fighting off any kind of different reasons that may threaten this. Yet, after all has been said and done, its the same things that we all strive for. We all want to be loved and taken care of. We all want security and comfort when things get bad. As exciting as it may seem to live on the edge sometimes, that it NOT the type of thing that builds futures and brings off well meaning and stable people. it keeps things good yes, great even, but if its a type that does not give in return  or is still on a quest to fulfil its own needs at whatever the cost, then maybe its not the TYPE I should be hanging out with. Having gone through this does not make me a failure. No! It instead makes me a better version of myself – an appreciative kind. It makes me real because now, I’m not caught up in some lost sense of myself but rather in a sense that has so much more to give! And when one stumbles upon ummmm not a TYPE but rather an INDIVIDUAL who sees and appreciates this – one should let go of pasts and longings, put on their big, mature and comfortable girl panties and allow for things that may come, to come. Now that to me sounds exciting!

After endless grinnings and all good and fuzzy feelings inside, I pick up my phone and type it in...

“you loving me feels amazing and yes.... I NEED you...”

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*smile*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days!

1 year, 4 months and 29 days – that is how long it took this nightmare to finally end. 1 year, 4 months and 29 days – I counted!

I sat at the meetings yesterday and I couldn’t help but feel tears burn my eyes and this need to go curl up in some corner and process all things. I finally calmly stood up and walked out to go have a private talk with the only person who understood what was happening inside of me.

“Its finally over,” I silently whispered, knowing that who that was meant for would hear me.

“it has been a long time coming,” the conversation carried on, and for the next 20 minutes all I could do was stand there in that private space and allow my heart to bubble forth all that it was trying to string up to make up proper sentences. (how grateful I am that this person I was trying to communicate with was a master at reading hearts and putting inaudible and jumbled up sentence together).

This has been a long journey. A journey filled with hard lessons, strengthened relations, many sleepless nights and desperate pleadings to anybody who would bother to take a moment and hear me. I fought and lost many battles during this time and I have watched many walk away from me when they assumed I was too much of a mess for them to handle. I have harboured bitter resentment and even managed to get myself slapped around a couple of times by my inner self when it had finally grown tired of the bundle of mess that I had become.

I let a few go too – a type of lesson that I suppose could only be taught this way. Its amazing how fast this type scatters when things start to fall apart.

I found that inner strength that people in those talk shows usually go on about. My inner strength tho came in the form of two enemies who both pulled at me in different directions and at times all I could do was listen in while they had one of their usual screaming contests. Each claimed that they knew what was best for me. There were times when the ganged up on me tho and times when they screamed at me and threatened me when they too grew tired of this bundle of mess that was Me. Cindy and Habit, I called them.

Lessons came too – hard and fast with power relations forged with a few people in my circle that I call the ESSENTIALS. This is a group of people that took my late night calls. They stayed up and listened to me rumble on and on and at times they spat words hard to hear and truths tough to swallow. I didn’t like them much then but I know they meant well. *thinking of B who made me cry one night* To Ms thing, Lady B and Ms LoydBanks herself – MUCH LOVE and APPRICIATION. Look what all of you have done – *raised wine glass and a bow of respect to each of you*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days is how long it took and its finally done.

I know where I am going. The email I sent this morning tells me so. There are no more tears for this and no more regrets here.

With the last final bow, I finally take this closed chapter and throw it in the huge barn fire that I have made for all the pain, hurt, resentment, hate and tear jerking memories. Its done. Its closed and finally burned from existence.

I take a deep breath, say a final “Thank you” to the person I have been silently speaking to and walk back into the hall to join in on the song of praise. I look back, catch his eye and wink at him while I smile and sort it all into words so I can tell him all about it later!

(You should meet him... he is amazing!)

Love is like a motorcycle ride

This is my true and honest confession: I am a self proclaimed ROMANTIC junkie who has gone as far as deciding how she would like the order of things to go so as to merit as ALLOWABLE and ACCEPTED.

And then the problem sets in:

We live in the year 2011 where regardless of how well thought out things may be, they never really do end up happening like that and if they do – exactly point for point as set out – then you may find yourself with even bigger problems.

I am a passionate mental doodler and in my mind, things should happen in this manner:

·         We would meet

·         I would eventually agree to drinks/lunch/supper

·         I would conclude that he is ok and agree to a second date

·         4 successful dates later and we would do the exclusive thing

·         2-3 successful years later and we would do the marriage thing

{Tune in a great sound track and all is well with the world}

And here I am…. Struggling to keep up with my own mental notes.

Feels a lot like riding a motorcycle for the first time (not that I have but I imagine it would be something like this): As great as the ride is going, I am stuck on making sure that my helmet is on securely and ensuring that my knee pads don’t slip of.  I have a check list that I'm trying to tick off as we pass mile stone after mile stone. On top of all of that, is the worry of where the bike is headed. The ironical part of it all is – regardless of all my inhibitions… this bike moves and it doesn’t do easy and slow. It roars to life and promises a thrill rush – helmet or not.

If there are some things that I'm learning during the bike ride, one of them would be: that the best bike rides have no planned routes. They don’t do list-tick-offs or being subjected to controlled doses. This is LOVE and it does not do rules. It over whelms and excites. It takes over you like a high tide wave and evokes a rush of weird, amazing, great and breath taking emotions all at once. Coupled with attraction it promises an even wilder experience that does not wait for you to give permission – it takes over and while it can leave you unravelled, it does promise you a thrill rush – list or not.

So being long overdue at this stage: here is a new mental doodle in tune with the times:

·         We would meet

·         Hang on tight and let whatever completely take over…

So while I sit safely behind the driver of this bike, I let my helmet fall off and let the air through my hair. The thought at that very moment (besides how great it feels to be close to him) is: I know I will love where this bike is going to stop

The joy factor

I put my head phones on and bop around to some random playlist I found and played…

“Its an amazing place to be”, I say while smiling at the reflection of myself in the mirror I was cleaning. My house is warm, my meal is cooked, I have a plan and most importantly, My Heart Is Washed…

It took some doing to get here.

I had heard it all lately. Some was not really said but more suggested by the actions shown. I heard worthless and undeserving and something along the lines of condemned hurt. A lot of times, that just left me thrown on the floor with a million feelings – disbelief being the more prominent. How possible was it that after so long, I still find me here? Has time forgotten that healing thing it was supposed to do? “Get on with it will ya” I would silently shout and wish it would wake up from its slumber and save us all.

This was a new level of tired. I was tired of the tears; I was tired of the empty pep talks I gave myself. I was so tired of all the desperate sms’s sent to the girls - which took forever to compose because I would work hard to dilute the pathetic in them by a joke or two although silently I wished the girls would pick up on it. Hell I was tired of pleading for a brake and I was very close to the point of lost hope.

And now – here I am. Refined I think.

Looking back, I have been taught tough lessons and I have had my priorities tweeked. Also, with the events of the past week, my worth has been defended and I have permanently been stamped with the stamp of approval – not by some guy or some culture made up by god-knows-who, but rather by the essentials in my world, the family I love, the girls who have been there since forever and by this guy who humbly asked for permission to call me and who says he is willing to hear me…

I woke up this morning to the coldest day this year. I still jumped out of bed tho and nearly over worked my facial muscles with this smile I can’t seem to wipe off.

 

“its an amazing place to be”

My hand bag is packed with all the essentials, my books for lesson prep are staked and with the last bite of my breakfast, I hurry down the passage with my heels clicking away with the sound of a women on a mission. If I'm not mistaken, I think I hear too a tune my shoes are playing that seems to make my feet wanna dance and skip on to work.

Hello world – I have returned!

Forget the bus that hits you, I'm stuck at the trailer bashing after that!!!

Talked to a friend last night and realised that this must be the one ultimate life lesson we get taught over and over again. That when the bus finally hits you – and it does find you, the point is not the tiny details about what make of bus it was or who the driver was and what colour seats it had. The point is when, how and what.

Let me explain:

First ask when: when will I contemplate getting up?

See, as much as at that moment it feels like planning when to get up is the least of our worries, sooner or later it has got to happen. More importantly though is the fact that only you can decide when to do it. So, while you spend the sleepless nights and bucket loads of tears while down there, keep in mind that sooner or later, you have got to get up.

Note to self: remember this when my next bus comes along.

Then ask how: How do I do this getting up thing?

Truth be told, there are just those buses that leave you so “hit” that you forget which side your feet are and where to start when wanting to lift your head. There are times when that bus just leaves us so tangled up that getting up becomes a long process that can also very easily find you right back on your butt again all too soon.

AGAIN, fact still remains that it has got to happen.

What I like though about this getting up process is that you now get to decide how straight up you want to stand this time around and while initially the feeling would be not to take it too far – in case you have to kneel and duck the next bus –but you can stand straighter then before. In fact, sometimes when the fall has been really hard, some people choose to take a different path road all together just so they can encounter new buses. And then you get the suckers who believe this path still has a bit more good times to offer – either way – you will eventually have stood up!

(Writing this question has my mind thinking of all the people around you who will seem to have the answers on how to do this *pointing a finger at myself since I tend to fall pray to this too*. But it also leads me to wonder if someone can really help you get up… *thinking* the way I see it, since this was your bus, you should be the one that will decide not only when to get up but more importantly HOW to get up.)

Then finally, we get to what: what has this bus left me with and what lessons have I learned.

It’s true that some scares from the bus bashing may never really heal. It’s true too that even if the surface scares do disappear (cue bio oil) fact is the inner pains may come to visit on rainy days and colder weather. But I would like to think that one of the things that should happen at this point will be getting to know your capabilities a bit more and knowing what could trigger the painful cringe when the wound is unintentionally touched or the weather does get colder. Remember – we are over the tears so let that not be an option.

Also, its good to get to the part where you reflect on what the bus has taught you so you can better dodge it the next time. If you know that walking on the right hand side of the road leads to on coming buses hitting you point blank, then hell – stay away from that side or even use the damn side walk next time.

All the above seems all well and wise but now I'm left with a question bigger and maybe even more lethal then the bus: WHAT HAPPENS IF THE BUS HAD A TRAILER AND THE DAMN TRAILER GOT LEFT ON TOP OF YOU CLEARLY MAKING GETTING UP IMPOSSIBLE? Am I allowed to call out now?

Ms Independent for protection

It’s the dependence we have in other people that has left so much to be desired. See, as the dependence grew, so did the terrible trend to disappoint. This, loving readers, is not something that came by chance but as a result of lost ways and confused trends.

Everybody – say “HI” to independence!

This tiny reality has been labelled as bad. It has been called terrible names and discussions have been held on why it should be killed. At yet another tired speech of the reasons why it should go, I cant help but wonder how much HE’s impact has been towards keeping it around.

(Please note that ‘HE’ does refer to a guy known to me and this comes from actual recent happenings – if you figure out who you are Mr HE, then congratulations for being an inspiration to yet another post!)

HE carries on passionately describing what independence has done wrong and how HE can fix it. (Mr Fix-it-all I silently add, while shacking my head knowing I can’t be seen).

Independence I believe, steams from the realization that no one can do it better for you then YOU. We come from a place where we women have been taught to wait for the men to bring it home. Wait for the men to give permission. Wait for the men to give us. Wait for the men to proudly afford us the kind of things that we have come to love. While this has worked really well in generations past, our generation at one point was left waiting for way too long when it finally decided to stand up and go get it themselves.

I am a practiser of independence and I can’t help but say that with pride. Careful tho – this does not mean that you should be pulling out your check lists of all the things that are wrong about me based on this statement. I do independence because it is my protection shield.

See, for a while, I did follow the trend (cause personally I do believe our mother’s generation still had the right idea on relations), but it came with the sad realization of just how much things have changed. I have heard the lines and I have seen the betrayal. Gone are the days when your word stayed your word till you saw it through. Nowadays, its all about ‘getting-my-own-at-any-cost’ and sadly it has left a lot to be desired for. And so admitting to the defeat of trying to hold on to a past trend, I join the masses. Not in word, but in deed.

I'm frowned upon tho (mostly by the other HE’s of our generations) and I am taken advantage of sometimes when I let my guard down.

The frowners can’t understand why I just don’t keep my place as a Christian woman. To them I ask: and what do I do in the mean time while I hope and plead HE to get his act together? While I wish that this man will finally provide what I need while I also make a pledge to do so (cause I know I'm willing)? What do I do with my emotions while HE refuses to recognise them and respect them? what do I do with this commitment that I have nurtured for so long for his sake while he picks and chooses who is prettier between me and the lady next to me in line?

The advantage-takers dance around me spinning words they hope will trap me. See, their game plan is to come enjoy the comforts I have built myself and when they have become fattened by them, trample on this heart that I sincerely gave and laugh at the devotion I honestly promised and shared while they were too busy eyeing the next me. To them I say: enjoy is while it lasts because when I do finally catch you out, don’t expect me to be clinging on you like God’s gift. I got here on my own and I most certainly will carry on just the same.

Sure, a better version of HE (called HIM) may be out there and he could be working on gathering enough for both of us to give to me too but until then – my independence continues to bring me joy. The things I own, the relations I keep and more importantly, the spirituality I continue to build are mine and I got them all by myself…
When HIM does come along and does prove to be genuine, then i will gladly hang up my Ms Independent hat and high heels and stick closely to my mom to teach me the ropes only like her generation did it. HIM will have a wife waiting at home for him to give. this wife will do so with a smile and a new tune to sing while she prepares the bacon he brought! (lol)

For now: HE carries on on how he is fully capable of giving and how HE thinks Ms Independent is wild and untamed and uncultured to want to get it herself. And after I have waited so long for him to bring it home and give it, I finally decide to hang up the phone and go get it myself. Seems like HE spent way too much time talking about it and beating his chest on proud talk that he missed all the times that I held out my hands – just waiting for him to give me…. Now I go get it – MYSELF!

Shall we throw HE into the advantage taker’s bin?

how high is your PEDESTAL

…you look down your nose and sneer. You just love the feeling you are getting from this. You call up your buddies and share the news. You add a little spice here and there and laugh on along as you get a sense of elevation from what you have seen while looking down your nose. And then you take it a step further – you point! You show all passer’s by what you are pointing at and tell the news over and over to whoever is willing to listen while you get puffed up with pride and your smile broadens. “I am much better then that” you say out loud to the audience you have pulled. “I said I AM MUCH BETTER THEN THAT” you shout a little louder!

What is it that has you jumping around and smiling – SOMEONE ELSE’S MISERY AND MISTAKE

(this is directed at a certain commenter and the rest of us who need such reminders)

I call this type a pedestaler…

A PEDESTALER, as per my definition, is that person who elevates themselves to a place they believe is higher and go on to point and look down upon those they believe are far worse off then they are.

Granted, it’s a habit that we all at some point have/had developed and even used to feel better about our surroundings but how much of a better person does it REALLY make you?

• You will agree with me that there is something seriously wrong with a person who lacks fellow feeling. Personally, I think it’s even the biggest contributor to the sate of disintegrating human life in these last days. We all seem to have lost a sense of human when we can turn a blind eye to the misery of others. At times we even cause it – knowingly or not. But how normal is it when we capitalize on it and use it to inturn make ourselves feel better. Rumours are sprung from such dark places. We can’t help but tell it to the next person. Where are you on the guilt scale of such behaviour?
• Ok so its true you argue – its not a rumour but truth and granted, a lot of the bad situations could have      been avoided had the individual done this and that and they could have been advised, yet they chose not to listen and hance they found themselves here – it happens to the best of us. so and so did mess up their own marriages and are to blame for an unhappy family life - but how, in all of that, do you find the right or pride to raise your nose and tread on higher?

You jump around at such results and silently think of how this will never happen to you. ”how stupid!” you whisper and “he deserves it!” you judge.

A wise man was inspired to write “Pride is before a fall”. For all you know, you could be walking backwards towards the edge of your pedestal, facing a fall that will land you lower then the individual you dared to judge!

Careful!

It’s a known fact that Satan carries on to look for ways to tempt us at CONVENIENT times. He looks for times when he can tread upon your loyalty and undermine your faith. At times he uses our own traits against us and sadly at times he succeeds. The bible warns “let the one standing be careful that he does not fall”.

I imagine that this would be directed to the times when we are still doing our ‘I'm-better-then-you-dance’. Could pride be the next trait that the devil will use against you?

See, I have seen it happen so many times and yes, I too was a pedestaler at some point in my life until the sad realization of how sad I was knocked me blind (lol – literally). We are so quick to point the finger and judge as per OUR standards. We are so quick to think of how WE would never let this happen to us and wanna be heard about how WE would have handled it. We run along to the next person and insist that WE know much better! And we take it a step further by basking in the glory of ‘so glad it didn’t happen to me’ and let our pedestals grow higher.

Here is a thought or two:

1. With us living in these last days of the last days, can you really afford to be ‘dancing’ on heights way higher then you can afford to fall off.

2. With the love scripture in mind, how do you deal with the news of someone else’s misery? Are you jumping up and down for joy? (just how joyous are you really).

3. Only Jehovah has the ability to see what’s in our hearts. Are the things he finds thereyou’re your heart, your silent judging’s of fellow humans that YOU have concluded are below you?

4. Could it be that the way we are being tempted is by showing a worldly spirit of seeing ourselves as better? While you do your ‘dance’ it just could be to the beat of the tempter! (wow scary thought)

Nothing bad intended… just another musing by GOT.

I am proudly Jehovah's tool

There is a certain Devine intervention that is realised when time is spent solely for spiritual things.


I write this on the eve of our last day out in unassigned and as we slowly prepare to make the 7+ hour trip back home to the mess we call life. Here, we all have been blessed with experiences and near tears stories that will stick with us for months to come. We have met spiritually thirsty people that have gone a long way in reminding us the reason why we keep on with this work even though at times it seems a little bit over done with door slams and snide remarks in mind.

There is a lady that stands out particularly when I think of this place. We met her a few years back when upon seeing us making our way down some dusty path had tears streaming down her face. We are the people that remind her of a life she once had way back in her native land. The tears are because she has now long left this course due to a new country and bad experiences that shook her relationship with the Almighty. She cries too because she now has walked into a path that not even she knows how to walk away from. We had the unfortunate experience of seeing a glimpse of that path when we tried to encourage her to start studying again and she had this thing shout and scream at us – against her will. I nearly fell off my chair realising in all my 11 years baptised that the stories were real…

(we really do have a strong opposer out there who is at near panic when realising that his time really is running out)

This lady crosses our path again this year when she now happily welcomes us to her house because even though the fight is not over, the willing spirit is still there. This fighting spirit burns on even though she has to put up with unexplained presences and sickening dreams… and yet she carries on fighting while clinging to this NAME that reigns above all else.

I take a moment to reflect on what this has done for my own struggles with the effects of this system of things. It all seems mundane when out here actually. The people here open their eyes wide when we tell of a new world that promises to wash away all these things. They frown and eventually smile when they realise heaven is not as promised or even that hell is some fairytale. I take a deep breath and realise that I love this job.

Today we met a lady that had a really sad story to tell (queue in the tears). Coming from a place that hurts when shunned by “worshipers” and having begged a long time to learn of this God she has been told is all good. We met her by chance. A few scriptures later [and a couple of sniffles] – she desperately asks “where do I find such people like you?”

Bring in more pulls to the heart when the only answer we can give her is a promise that MAYBE we may return in a year’s time or that she should try the addresses behind all the literature we have emptied out our bags to give her. She appreciates the Watchtower like gold and holds the Worship the only true God book tightly as she promises to read these (and the AWAKE we couldn’t resist giving as well). As we leave where she was, I silently plead Jehovah to please watch over her and protect the seed we have planted. Who knows, we may just be holding her hand into the new system very soon!

The stories are many and the smiles we have in telling them have reignited a burning urge within. How do you react to meeting a man on the dusty road one scorching afternoon that literally quoted from the Knowledge book that he once had and was reading before it was stolen from him? I believe the stolen story based on the precise quotes from it and the pleadings for a new copy if we have one. While scratching around for a copy, we offer to him the Bible Teach book which he accepts but carries on to ask about that brownish covered book that he yearns for. In his words he says “because it is that truth that will defiantly lead me to everlasting life”. Would you argue with such pleadings? We luckily locate a copy and man you should have seen how washed my heart was with joy on seeing him almost skip away in joy at being reunited with that book!

Coming back to the small table where I sit to write this, my heart smiles at the sound of the new friendships forged with the fellow 10 brothers and sisters I am here with.

Wow! Tomorrow we leave.

What a week it has been. I feel the familiar burning in my eyes when I realise what a true blessing this week has been. No more tears I have promised myself. I cant help think back on the public talk and Watchtower study we had for the 30 in attendance and at the group study we had today shoulder to shoulder with the small group here that have made it a point to meet up and study some of the literature we left them with. None of them are baptised but each one through their walks in life have had a taste of this “pure language” we speak. After the concluding prayer, we sing 3 maybe 4 songs from our personal copies of the song books we will be leaving behind with them since we have none for them then. They smile as we sing these songs they have never heard but immediately love since they praise our loving God.

Wow! Tomorrow we leave…

I love the provision Jehovah has made to reach all sorts of people with these news. Its an amazing God that we worship and I pray that when we make our final calls tomorrow on the not nearly enough attempts we have made to the few that we could reach, that he look after the hope we have planted and ask that he please bless the honest attempts of the people we leave who shall carry on to search for the truths we have given them a taste of.

This week, I have allowed myself to be a tool for such an amazing service and as I get back to the mess that is my world, I do so with a renewed conviction to hold firmly on to Jehovah’s hand and allow him to lead continuously…

And after all is said and done, I cannot wait to tell Mr Man about my new stories…

The box where its all kept.

It’s the damn days when the sun won’t just come out that get to me. It’s the times when I, the girl who seems to have it all planed and knows exactly where and how she wants it, cant for the life of me manage to get a single sentence said or a single word written.


These are the days when my wounds do bleed and the scars start to show again. It seems to me that regardless of how much I pack it up and shove it to the back of a dark closet, some light does still seem to fall on it from time to time. As I peer in again into this livid box, I see traces of where these new habits come from. With that though comes the reminder of a sad yet essential reality…

Girl-On-Top should not be leaning on this shaky wall.

I opened my eyes this morning and I had a plan in mind. Today would be a good day and I would get things done. I somehow managed to fall asleep with the phone near me… ahh reminder of another broken promise comes to mind… the call that was promised but never came. But that will not bother me today… I have a plan remember? Yet as awake time carried on, my plan fell apart and all I was left with was this damn box that seemed to show up again – even when I had made sure it was pushed far back this time!

My day was bad. It all seemed like that box had crept into my handbag this morning or had followed me to work. I messed up things and I lost documents. I had breathless moments and no amount of good music seemed to calm it. A good friend says I should swallow my pride and call in for help. Help? Girl-On-Top does not call in for help! Hell I can help myself… 11am and things carry on down hill. Maybe I should swallow this pride and just do as I was told… grab phone. Write it out. Options. Send… *deep breath* there, I have done it…

One hour later… nothing

Two hours (hold my breath and look at my phone screen)… nothing

Two and a half hours later… no beep…

Wait…. Here it comes… *smile*

I opened up the inbox and this damn box sprung open and I lost all hope of closing it – ever!

This is a box with all my issues laid bare. In this box are stories and events that saw me on my floor after failed wrestlings with attempts to get them sorted. This box is where all the bitterness and anger and “I told you so’s” lie. This is the box that carries lethal combinations of things that got me way near to the edge at one point and for some strange reason – this one sms managed to pull them all out again…

I started this post with hopes that I would lay them bare here. That I would have a go at them here yet at quarter-past-way-past-my-bed-time, I get comfortable on this floor that I had managed to avoid for a very long time. Habit is here too. He brought wine. As he fills my glass - again – I smile at this old friend and start telling him a story of how I at some stage tried to hide him in a box at the back of my closet. He laughs, smiles and asks me questions about this damn wall I tried to lean against.

I guess this means that the issues will have to wait till I have become well acquainted with Habit again. Tonight… tonight I do things differently. I switch off the phone to block the wall that should have come through for me a whole 8 hours ago. I climb into bed with habit and fall asleep in the arms of the demon I know and have secretly come to love too.

“its good to have you around tonight habit…” I whisper as I drift asleep in to a dream with no expectations in the morning…

"New kind of low"

A lady looked deep into the eyes of her daughter who was sitting in tears and softly yet firmly said to her: “you cannot make yourself happy by brining misery to other people”


I have seen this scene a million times over yet it still proves true over and over. Look around you – we have become a species plagued with sadness and misery and bitterness and all other things that seem to hang around like a severe case of fever!

Ask if you dare what the reason is and a deafening silence follows when the answer is said: OURSELVES!

… he says he loves his wife yet he cant brake it off with his side fling. He hates the thought of the side fling seeing anybody else but him…


…she has no problem with spreading that vicious rumour about her hard working colleague in hopes that it would destroy her credibility, be sacked from the job just so she can finally get her job which she has been eyeing…


…the fact that he breaks his back to provide for you does not make you appreciate what he offers since you have no problem with getting your own from someone else…


…so what if he has kids and a wife at home? Oh I know he is engaged and committed to some girl but as long as he gives me what I want – I'm happy! If she can’t keep him happy – I will…

Tell me:

Why is it that we feel the need to be unfaithful?

In all aspects! It seems like we have become the type that has given in to the pathetic excuse that “we couldn’t help it”. We are all so caught up in instant gratification and the ruthless want to get ahead and get our own regardless of the cost or the things we leave trampled behind!

Yet when you sit and reflect on what the result of such dealing has been – you don’t really see yourself rolling around laughing at the achievements you have made through your genius dealings and scheming. Instead, all you have is the cold cash you have no one to spend it with since you have alienated yourself from any kind of love you had coming or a guilty conscience, which even tho it has been taught to shut up until spoken to, caries on to silently taunt you while sitting in the dark corner where you put it. Does not feel as good as you thought it would, does it?

We all go around acting like we are superior and better when in actual fact, we rank very near to the gum stuck under our shoes - which has been chewed and spat out. We have finally managed to build a culture of fake trust and a sad existence that is based on pretence and heartache all because “we couldn’t help it”. It gets even worse when it finally has reached a stage where it is no longer socially frowned upon and is openly done with no shame on the part of the offender! Hell the offended is even encouraged to hit back just as bad or worse even… when does it stop?

When you sit alone and reflect on how unhappy you have become or how hectic this system of things has dealt you your share – I promise you 8 times out of 10, the person to mainly blame is the one staring right back at you in the mirror!

Congratulations “human race”, you defied all expectations and managed to reach a new kind of low. A low lower then the one associated with the likes of Hitler’s rule, the reasons behind both World Wars and the many genocides…

Let’s see if you can achieve an even lower one…

Could i actually do it?

I have thoughts of quitting my job so I can go be a free spirit… live for the day and do the exact things that make me happy…

Should I? Should I not?

I have this insatiable need to want to feel needed and irreplaceable. I suppose to some degree, we all do. There is just something with knowing that without me, some things will not carry on as they should neither will they ever be the same. There is a certain excitement from knowing that no one can do what I do best as good as I do it and that right there is the fuel to the burning reason why I still find myself sitting here week after week trying to hold it together. But here is a question for you: is it worth it all?

I suppose another culprit that seems to be hanging around unpunished, is the need to want to be in control of my tomorrow. I wanna know how I will afford the rest of my life. I wanna know how I will support my McFlurry addiction and the impulsive decisions to go meet up with my beau when ever, where ever. I don’t want to have to wonder or ask. I don’t wanna have to scrape through and be obsessed about the R20 I'm sure I left in my jean pocket… I wanna be in control of it all. Yet here is another question for you: Is it worth it all?

Regardless of how much my two main reasons make sense and regardless of how much they seem sane enough to hold on to, I still find myself with an even stronger desire to want to quit and go do other carefree things that although not guaranteed to feed my two obsessive reasons but would bring an even bigger amount of joy and satisfaction. So what do I do? Do I throw it all to caution and take the huge leap of faith? And what happens if my faith has dried up and I land with a (painfully) loud thump – head first? What happens if I do go to the scraping and endless ramblings about that damn R20 that was just here (until I remember how the craving of the McFlurry kicked in and I gave in)?

I suppose truth of the matter is: there is no way of knowing how things will turn out regardless of what I do decide to do. There is no sure way of knowing that my obsessive reasons will actually be there long enough for me to carry on holding on to. Truth of the matter comes down to the pen and paper I am puling out to start a long list of pro’s and con’s (just like they forced us to do back in LO – maybe it actually does work) and depending on which side looks most sane, this is the decision I will make of cause pre-faced with a whole lot more consultations with the Grand Provider, the wise parents and the highly esteemed opinion of the beau.

Sunny With A Chance of Rain vs A Turning Wheel

There is something to be said about the period of times that we face. I have heard it being described as a turning wheel (from the famous saying: “the wheel turns”) and im starting to wonder if that’s what it should really be labelled as.

Think about this for a moment: lets agree to take our life time periods as a turning wheel.

We have a period that is all good and everything seems to go our way. During this period, things just seem to ummm follow the right path, fall in to place so as to speak – the sun shines a bit brighter and we manage to maintain that happy step in our walk regardless of it being a Monday or the day when that hectic report is due. We smile a little more and love everything in our world – perfect or not.

Then comes the bad times - which somehow get me thinking of stepping on a piece of gum. Think of how irritating it is to get the gum off your shoe – err without touching it of cause – and yet still managing to have a bit of it still left behind to try keep your shoe grounded rather then move forward so you can finally get to the end of the damn day! We walk around with the whole world on our shoulders weighing us down. And of cause as if that wasn’t enough, we just had to get the speeding fine and mess up the work presentation or even send the terrible e-mail to everyone instead to the one recipient you usually off load on – now everyone knows that you managed to walk around the whole day with a bit of you dress stuck in your underwear!. During this time, someone could offer to take your life and you would gladly trade! And just as you manage to accept that things are to stay like that forever, that wheel does the turning thing and we are right back to the skip ‘n hop in our step and bright sun shines…

And so it carries on with alternating non-ending cycles…

Considering that with both cycles we tend to go through a series of questions such as “why me?” or “could things get any worse”, it makes me wonder if we are not actually willingly setting ourselves up for such things?

Im sure everyone will agree that it’s the bright sunny days that we like better right… but now my pressing question is this: why cant we have a usual sunny day with a chance of scattered thunder showers? That way, we have generally good periods with touches of rain simply because that’s how nature works. We know that the rain is coming at some point so we make it a point to carry an umbrella and maybe even a pair of Wellingtons for the rain puddles. This to me sound far much better then the world-is-ending feeling we experience every time those rain clouds roll in and we are stuck in terrible rain storms. Infact it sounds much better to me then sitting around knowing that all our good times will soon trade places with the bad just because some wheel has to turn!

Allow me to even take it a step further with this: forget about trying to get out of the storm, life is about learning how to dance in the rain (Tamia)

- Happy puddle dancing everyone!