Of wings and things.

Found on the beautiful novels and writings by Maggie May.

Some good things to know.

My friend Danielle found a yellowed old book on a dumpster on the streets of Manhatten. As a beautiful young songstress struggling to sing a siren's song in NYC, the words in that book were like a message sent especially to her, from some kindly angels above.

Wise enough to know when her muse was calling, Danielle held onto the little dishevelled book, and lent it out to others needing comfort and inspiration.

It found it's way to a shared friend in her hospital bed, who showed it to me.

I love its very 80's, pop psych sincerity.
Its kindness.
And best of all, its old fashioned sensible home truths.

Here are some for you:

* Everything you need to be happy is inside of you.

* The purpose of life is for you to grow into the best Human Being you can be.

* Change is inevitable, so stop resisting and surrender to life's flow.

* All obstacles are lessons in disguise - honour them and learn.

* Your mind creates your experience of reality, so make your mind your friend.

* Fear will steal your aliveness - make your courage bigger than your fear.

* All relationships are your mirrors and all people are your teachers.

* You must love yourself before you can truly give or receive love from anyone else.

* True freedom comes from how you respond to life and not from what life does to you.

* Whatever the question, LOVE is the answer.

The day after reading this list in that little old book with my friend, I found myself unexpectedly standing in front of the 2009 edition in a bookstore!

You can buy one too. Not a literary experience by any means, but a little wisdom goes a long way in a busy world...

From
Secrets about life every woman should know by Barbara De Angelis!

The joyful leap.

Every child knows how to express real joy. Unbridled. It will make a child laugh with; shout with; jump with joy.... And the body knows how to store that joy, sending it into every cell and every atom like a little missive looking for an envelope.


Open it up wherever you can, seeking joy in small things. And when you find it, let your body remember. An undiluted child's joy.

Find joy with and in one another.

Share. Witness. Jump.

Your soul will be grateful.

Images from Fine Little Love

Dinner is served, Madam.

'I like to have my morning newspaper ironed before I read it. I like to have my shoes boned before they are polished. I like to sit in the back of the car, and be driven. I like beds to be made, dishes to be washed, grass to be cut, drinks to be served, telephones to be answered and common tasks to be dealt with invisibly and efficiently so that I can devote my time to major decisions like the choice of wines at dinner...'

Of course, Peter Mayle was speaking tongue in cheek, when he enumerated the many delightful ways in which the toil of others, can make our own lives immeasurably more comfortable. At least I hope so, since I haven't actually read the whole text ( Acquired Tastes) and am indebted to A Super Dilettante for quoting it! And whilst I may involuntarily sigh at the doubtless pleasures of such a daydream, the wiser voice in me is alerted to a fall from grace.

Being perpetually served is I think somehow, bad for the soul.

I live in a post colonial, after-apartheid corner of the earth, in which such fantasies are entirely possible. For the price of a pair of good leather boots a person could, if they were so inclined, procure for themselves on a monthly basis, a manservant to attend to all manner of bothersome duty. Born into such circumstances, a young child could be forgiven for taking on the mantel of archetypal prince or princess, from a very early age. And that is quite an expectation to live up to.

In fact, even the most humble households, can find a humbler soul to do their bidding.

It's the nature of the beast. There are so many, so desperate to find the salvation of employment, that no amount of legislation will protect them from exploitation, and some homes number more servants then family members!

Something tells me that it is better to serve, then to be served. Although I also suspect that when done properly, there is a sacred space for the act to be reciprocal.

So. I'll cook for my own family, do my own shopping, fetch my own children and make my own bed!

I draw the line at washing and ironing!

There are some things a girl should be allowed to pay for! And every now and then a good wallow in a plush hotel room, will be worth a scuff to the soul!

Kindness...

Kindness blooms

everywhere,

even in the soil of happiness

it will take root and spread itself

measure for measure towards the rising light.

You don't have to watch the grass fade,

bleached by loss and pale from pain,

to feel it sit beside you on the journey home.

Don't have to take a wrong turn

and find yourself lost,

before you see it coming

wedged between the parcels on the train.

You must not wait for it to find you in the dark

clickety clack of the track

but seek it out now,

making place for it like an old friend

even as you feel your breath warm the glass pane,

looking out through clear glass

alive and glad already

for the kindness by your side.

Don't wait...you don't need to!

xxx elle

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future disolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

Between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

that passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out of the window forever.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters

and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the ground of the world to say

It is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye

A good grief.

As I sat at the hospital bed of my friend this morning, feeling grateful relief, that a cluster of 'irregular' cells, had been swiftly evicted from her breast like an unwelcome guest, I thought of many things.

My beautiful friend lay chatting to me, her green eyes bright with the hope of things to come, and I could not help thinking of those other women, in other hospital beds whose lives had been altered that morning. Lives that were now in the hands of doctors and operating theatres, destiny and prayer.

I wanted to go to these women, moving from room to room, offering them my love and my unshakable sense, that everything will be ok...in the end.

It's a funny thing that. The need to share pain with others. Where I can, I avoid it. Choosing instead, to elude the seduction of shared wounds. When my daughter, Tiffany died, the walking wounded all found their way to my door. They came alone, or in groups, looking to swell their ranks! And even now, almost twelve years later, they will seek you out at a dinner party, and lay their wounds out for you, like a deck of cards waiting to be played.

Over time a person can become the wound, that was meant to set them free.

Sometimes, if you lucky, you find a good place to share the pain. And the many ways to heal it.

Like 'A good grief", the beautiful and inspiring community of sharing created by Molly in memory of her daughter Lucy, to help anyone dealing with loss of any kind. The human spirit is a wondrous thing...

xxx

elle

Beauty is as beauty does.

"For attractive lips,

Speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes,

Seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure,

Share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair,

Let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise,

Walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.

People, even more then things,

Have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed.

And redeemed.

Never throw out anyone.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand.

You will find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you get older you will discover that you have two hands;

One for helping yourself, and the other for helping others."

Audrey Hepburn

When time is phoenix winged...

I opened a book this evening and a card fell out.

It was from my daughter Skye, written at the time of the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) several years ago.

It was a beautiful message to rediscover so unexpectedly, from our first born on a warm summer's eve.

This is what it says:

My Darling Mum and Dad,

When time is Phoenix winged

and tiny markers

like plumes,

lay down creases about your eyes

to feather your memory...

When the years pool

like spring water

and show you

your children's faces

gathered again at your

blue striped kitchen table,

singing

songs of apple and of honey...

You should know that angels

sit amongst them,

and goodness folds itself into

the pleats of your New Year's

skirt.

And when that skirt is ruffled,

by the shiny coat of your labrador

brushing past you,

or by the wind in the old oaks at Talana,

or by the swish of your former self

urging you forward;

You should know too,

that you leave a wake of goodness,

a shimmery, shell paved shoreline

in all the places that you have

placed your feet.

xxxx Skye

(I think the patients feel better just by seeing this young doctor walk into the ward!)