On Courage

Another poem today. 

Courage 

"Have courage, my dear. Have courage, be brave;"

Words that slip into our psyches from childhood.

Through Disney films and fairytales

And scraped knees in the playground.

"Be brave, be a big girl for me, won’t you."

Fear, fear of the dark

And of monsters under the bed, or in our head.

Scared of characters from books

And dirty looks

From the coolest girl at school.

My sister hated dogs, I ran from clowns.

Still avoid the circus.

I am a big girl now, not scraped my knee in years.

But I’m less brave than I ever was, I think.

Scared of failure, rejection, not knowing what I want.

I run from confrontation, from an altercation.

From dates.

I am scared to feel awkward.

I’d say,

I don’t think I’m brave in any way.

Courage is a word I long for, a lion’s heart.

It’s easier for me to write my deepest thoughts online

Than it is to ask for what I want from someone.

Still scared of the dark and the monsters in my head.

Though unless you live where you fight daily for basic human rights,

Where your fears are hunger, violence, lack of freedom,

Unless you live this.

Unless your life is an extreme obstacle race.

Then facing ourselves is the biggest fear we ever face.

Have courage, my dear. Have courage, be brave;

Walk into the dark and see what’s there,

And love it.

That’s courage.

#The100DayProject, #100Daysof Writing, Day 14

Happy Birthday You Alcoholic, Spendthrift, Chocoholic, Cat-Lover...

Guys, I am cowering my head in shame as I have not posted since this time last WEEK. So much for my #100DaysofWriting. Even with weekends off, which I decided was necessary quite early on, this is still four days of nothing. I am getting back on the horse today with a post that I have been meaning to write for a while on greeting cards.... don't worry, it'll have lots of pics.

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Happy Birthday You Alcoholic, Spendthrift, Chocoholic, Cat-Lover...

The other day I went shopping for a birthday card for one of my best friends and left feeling irritated. This is something I have experienced before when hunting for cards. You see in well-stocked card shops and boutiques there is usually a wide variety of cards, many of which blow the stereotype out of the window, but most still reinforce it and in shops with a smaller choice, they all do.

What is this stereotype you may ask?

Here are some "ladies" having lunch... obvs with oodles of shopping bags and wearing ballgowns

According to Greeting Cards, women are shopaholics who only care about looking good and the sensual pleasures in life eg: chocolate, cake and wine. Or cats. Or they think about cock all the time. And they spend lots of money on said chocolate and shopping, but it is always their boyfriend's cash. And they "never have enough to wear", which is like the world's biggest disaster OMFG.

Does this really need a caption? There are some breasts...

Men - according to greeting cards -  men are equivalently obsessed with tits and alcohol (maybe fair in some cases). And football is their shopping and they also enjoy complaining about how their wives and girlfriends spend all their money on shopping and wine etc. But men also have cars, all forms of transport, actually, they tend to favour trains in youth and then cars and boats (not sure how greeting -card woman gets anywhere- perhaps she has to wait for her boyfriend to pick her up in a sports car). Greeting card man also has all the sports that he can play, woman sometimes makes reference to the gym, but usually only in the context of how she'd prefer to have a Sauvignon Blanc. (She is definitely an alcoholic) .

See all women spend ridiculous amounts of money on face cream if it ensures a youthful appearance

Greeting card woman is also very concerned with her age and her lines and how people might think she looks compared to some 18 year old woman. Men are concerned about age too, but mostly because they aren't as good at football and maybe no women will let them stick it in them. They then progress straight to grumpy old man who likes gardening and moaning. Apparently.

Here they are... busy bitching about some wrinkles on some other, older women...

Ahhh a lovely Princess.. with animals dancing about her. That squirrel must be GM... haven't seen a red one in years.

Greeting card woman is also often described as being bossy and high maintenance and always right. Whether these are the only women who receive cards/star in them is unclear. Yes, she is either a bossy cow or a Princess or a Mum.. The Princesses piss me off the most to be honest, they are always wearing bloody pink and they really do nothing except wear crowns...

I spoke to my mother a while back about my frustration with greeting cards and she calmly said... yes but do you know how much these new stereotypes are a step forward from the old ones... She was talking about cards that featured good wives who cooked and often featured a vacuum cleaner as the central excitement. I understood her point.

And by the way, I think the stereotypes in cards are bad for men as well. I like to think that although men may enjoy looking at a large breast/having a beer/watching football, they may wish to be defined by some other facets of their personality on their day of birth. 

Men are extremely simple don't you know...

Anyway, rant over, here are some more of the LOL cards I have discovered.... And if anyone else buys me a card about being a shopaholic who's constantly keeling over from excessive consumption of Rose Pinot and cake, I may scream... Unless... maybe... that's what people think of me. ;)

Another Wino Wendy. So LOL and original.

 

So I forgot how Greeting Card Woman is also really shit at packing and has to take LOADS of suitcases. Probs for all her clothes and shopping and face creams...

HA HA HA. Your daughter is an obese alcoholic who can't read ROFL ROFL

Young Greeting Card Woman (and Man) is often obsessed with WiFi and Gadgets. Apaz also still LOL to sort of hint and domestic abuse...

Aaaah a classic... (read no man in her life, probs wears weird clothes, smells)

Still wrong to be called high-maintenance and demanding. So deny it girls. Get your blow drys in secret. Wear jeans with rips.

Daphne is a lucky bitch who apparently lives in a lovely rural community with fields etc

    

Ah classic dog/bitch joke. Throw in a sausage there... why not...

What a bossy, hysterical woman. Also where is Mr Bossy..

Why would they when women love shopping SO MUCH and spending all their cash. LOL that men love Hawaiian shirts as well.

This is what women think, all the time

#The100DayProject #100DaysofWriting, Day 13 (late)

Ok, I'm Ready...

I think I'm ready now, finally. I have never really been before, but I think I am now because I know what I want and what I don't want. I've made those distinctions.

I've spend time having loveless flirtation and sensual (and not so sensual encounters). I've dated and dismissed many a man (and boy). I've had a few short "relationships". Mostly I've been afraid of it, to be honest, afraid of what somebody else would do to me. 

Maybe it's because I wasn't really sure about myself, whether I like myself all that much, whether I was who I was meant to be. The thought of blind and internet (sorry app- what is this the 00s) dating just sent me into a spin of fear and insecurity that they might reflect back at me the flaws I had already outlined in myself.

I was never one of those people who dated to fill a hole or to feel more secure and steady in a situation, because for me, putting yourself into that vulnerable position of being half of two rather than half of one was not something that settled me. In fact it sent me careering off into outer space, heart thumping head-spinning, ecstatic then anxious, crying with laughter, then just crying. I didn't want this. I wanted a steady ground.

I am ready now, because I've realised what I want and that steadiness often comes from within. I'm ready now because I am happier with who I am.

So if you know anyone...

Kind but not weak. Compassionate, likes animals and nature. Reads, please. Interested in all ideas even if they don't agree with them. Doesn't talk over people who are quieter than them. Respect's people of all ages, sexes, colours, nationalities, backgrounds, creeds, educated or not. Realises we are all the same, WE ARE ALL THE SAME. Can take (and make) a joke. Does not practice bitterness. Loves to laugh, to make others laugh, the moment of laughter. Wants fun in life. Responsible, but not anal. Understands me, lets me be me, even if that is odd. Intelligent, not necessarily academically or bookish, but bright, sparky, interested. Likes talking and listening. Likes long conversations about the world and what it means... but can tug me in and make me feel safe too if I drift off into the stratosphere. Healthy attitude towards mind, body and soul. Appreciates and indulges in the sensual pleasures of life, but does not gorge on them. Smiles at people even if it makes them look stupid. Tactile. Reassuring. Shares their problems. Lets me look after them sometimes. Not scared of their feelings. Quiet, but also loud. Trustworthy and trusting. Has passions and interests. Would be a good father. I want to find him beautiful, but that doesn't mean anyone else needs to. Makes my friends smile and feel warm inside. Interested in my family. Open-minded. Likes the sea and the mountains and travelling. As flawed as humans are. Never thinks he knows it all.

Do you know anyone like that? I don't yet and this list may seem unrealisitc. But I have no stipulations for money or looks or background or anything else. None of that, just these things.

I'm just putting that out there.

#The100DayProject, #100DaysofWriting, #Day12.

Walking

Walking is my thing.

It's the thing that I do when I want to think, when I have problems or worries that I just can't solve. It's almost meditational to me... because generally whatever I''m struggling with works around and around in my head and some sort of solution is thrust forward.

My father takes a long bath whenever he is fussing over a conundrum, I walk.

Walking also helps me to really feel in the moment. To feel small and insignificant and to watch the world work around me, it reminds me that I'm not at the centre of it. The familiar buzz of humanity through towns; the shouting, laughter, irritation seeps through. It earths me. The rolling hills and trees do the same.

It's something about the nature of the rhythm of footsteps perhaps, perhaps they move unknowingly to the beat of your heart, to your breath and make you feel grounded and restful.

I don't know, all I do know is that it soothes me. And I can do it anywhere.

Whatever your soothing ritual is, or however you problem solve, be sure to include it in your daily routine. It is good for your soul, don't you know.

Attempting Adulthood

 

Today's post (a day late, soz) is a poem about Attempting Adulthood and how in your late twenties, everyone is at very different stages... I hope you like it. Please comment, share etc x

Attempting Adulthood

Don't wish your life away,
They say.
Don't wait for weekends and wine.
Be happy and balanced and like life all the time.
Go into Monday meetings with grace and a smile,
Lack of caffeine is not a reason to be hostile.
Make sure you exercise at least three times a week, but don't worry about your weight.
Squat, lunge, downward dog and eat a healthy diet, a colourful plate.
Read all sorts of books to nurture your mind.
Keep up with politics and documentaries. Be kind.
Do some charity work, perhaps.
Don't collapse.
Socialise, see art and plays and watch the news,
Don't overdo the booze.
If you're single,
You must mingle .
On Tinder and Happen and Hinge, Oh My.
You'll certainly find the girl or guy.
If you're not, then keep up with your mates
Inbetween the convos on mortgage rates.
What's your five year plan?
You've lost your tan.
She's lost her phone again, she's gone a bit wild;
Her ex is in Singapore having someone's love-child.
I can't really afford to go out tonight;
They exchange in the next fortnight.
I'm thinking of sacking it all in to go travelling
My life is unravelling...
You're still young-ish... well not old yet
Too old for drugs and student debt.
Tick-tock,
Biological clock.
I'm bored of the city, but I like the culture and food at 3am
When do you ever use them?
I have a cleaner but shop at Asda and Primark.
I won't queue for clubs anymore, but I'm still scared of the dark.
Nothing's solved with drink, aimless spending or a late-night screw.
As the cliche says, just do what's right for you.
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#The100DayProject #100DaysofWriting, Day 10