The future is ... unknown

Sometimes what you think is your perfect future is not quite a complete picture. As I have matured (like a good wine, I think) I have come to realise that my vision was great as a child but I have encountered more twists, turns and cul-de-sacs in my life than the best detective novel.

And I am pleased to say that the plot has not ended yet!

Where I am today, I would never have dreamed of, not even fifteen years ago. Thank God I can say that I have more happiness in my life today than I have ever dreamed of.

I had anticipated a different path, but this one is the one I am supposed to be on.

When I was 10 years old I became an Auntie for the first time. My first nephew turns 41 this month and the things that I thought about parenthood and family from those early days are so different now.

I have my own family. I have my birth family and I have my friend family but most important to me (sorry y’all!) is my immediate family of my son and I.

When all my siblings were openly exploring their sexuality and producing children in the same way that I was shelling peas in the back yard, I baulked at the idea of being a parent. I saw my parents (they seemed to have constant worries about us children) and I saw my siblings (they had different concerns – but just as valid); parenting seemed to have worries attached like an octopus stuck on the side of a house. The multiple arms and points of concern seemed never ending.

My immediate family is different. With myself and my son as a unit I now see the world in a totally different way. Having my child also makes me see myself in a totally different way. I have discovered parts to myself that other relationships could never have reached (nod to Heineken).

The future is bright, much brighter than I’d ever imagined!

Internal Journeys

I know that some of the most difficult journeys I have ever taken have been in my heart and mind. And some of the most glorious journeys have taken place in the same arena. This blog has been a witness to a small portion of those excursions, especially over the past year. I have been writing my thoughts and dreams down since I was a child. I still have the diaries that I wrote in as I tentatively entered into my teenage years.

A major change happened in my life just over four years ago. December 2006 was the start of immense joy in my life. Everything in my life changed almost overnight. The impact of this external life alteration did not bring quiet reflection and an enduring residual calmness, instead there was a chain reaction of activity as I chose to instigate some long-overdue changes in my internal life as well; I wanted symmetry of movement internally and externally. Subsequently it was in August 2007 that another great shift occurred. Sometimes the changes that we go through can disturb us enough so that we never settle back into a listless existence: this happened to me. There was no way that I would ever want to – or be able to – return to the flat existence I had before.

So, there I am three and a half years ago reawakening my dreams. The dreams that had lain dormant for over a decade.

This was the start of another internal journey.

If this were a sea voyage I would say that the waves have been tossing the ship from side to side but there has never been any chance that disaster would strike. As the main occupant I have got wet many times as I tried to be Jonah-like and run away from my destiny, however, this was not to be. I am glad that I faced my fears and realised that as long as I continued to do my best as a parent and remembered to really follow my dreams I would be all right.

When I first decided to put some of my thoughts into a blog I had just let someone precious slip away, but there was nothing I could do about that then. I didn’t see the future but, regardless of that, I could not alter my choice at that time, I would just wish for a different outcome. In an attempt to heal myself from that intense loss I decided to return to a tried and tested method of reflection: I decided to write – to myself – about how I was really feeling and what I was thinking. This has become my online journal. It is better than any pill in a small brown bottle. This exposure of my thoughts has been a lifeline to me.

Sometimes this blog was not enough for me and I resorted to good old-fashioned pen and paper: they still hold an intense magic for me. I had to leave this space for a while but when I returned I felt stronger. This wonderfully intense journey has continued here for a long while now with nearly 300 posts in the last year. I have even started other spaces where I also write about the joy in my life. I am continually amazed at the many great experiences I am having and I know that this journey is only going to get better.

This is not a journal of Gulliver’s travels, it is a partial peek into my life; this is a bit of the internal journey of Marjorie Morgan. Welcome aboard the next leg of the voyage!

Fingernail scratches

It is surprising where a simple conversation will lead.

What started with the onslaught of seasonal hay fever ended with holidays in Scarborough.

The route between the two points was, however, painful at times.

A hot morning walk meant singlet and shorts for me. But I was chilled at times during the conversation despite the heat outside.

I was talking with a fairly new acquaintance about … life, really. He started telling me that he was off on holiday to Scarborough and how unusual it was for him to stay in the country for a holiday as he usually travels abroad with his wife. Pleasant memories were shared about visits to countries such as Italy and Croatia. Then as he continued to share the delights of his many recent excursions his face fell slightly, as he remembered two visits: the first hint of sadness came as he recalled when his wife was mugged in Barcelona, and the second was a memorable but harrowing visit to Poland. He said it was a land of great beauty and sadness.

With hesitation he suggested that if I ever got the chance that I should visit the concentration camp in Auschwitz, Poland. “Nobody ever visits that place and comes out of it without some emotional shift,” he said with his eyes cast downwards onto the path.

“My wife,” he offered, “she broke down when she saw the children’s dolls.”

As he paused to gain the courage to continue I could see him transporting himself back to that location and peering through the buildings of horror.

“For me,” he said, “for me it was the gas chambers that did it.”

A hard swallow followed those words.

I waited in still silence because there was no expression that could fill that space. I kept my gaze on his face and saw the shifting moods in his eyes, in his cheekbones and in his lips: they quivered a bit.

“What got me,” he continued, “were the fingernail scratches on the walls of the gas chambers, that’s what got me.”

Then we were both silent for a while. He was reliving it and I was imagining it. The silence continued as the birds around us chirped without concern for our words.

Man’s inhumanity to man.

Evident in so many places.

Those people herded into those gas chambers were struggling to hang on to life as the gas destroyed their fragile frames. They reached out to the most solid thing that they could in an effort to hold on.

As I look at life today I wonder what we do when things get tough. Who or what do we hold on to? Will this structure or person support and sustain us?

Our lives are like smoke in the wind. We are in a much better situation of health and freedom than our fellow humans who were forced into the gas chambers so we should use our life to make good choices to bring health and happiness to each other and not to extend pain and sorrow. That’s what I think anyway.

The horror has occurred, we should not forget. Horrors still happen every day.

To gain some balance on this journey through life we should make the most of our lives today because the embers that produce our vitality will fade away in time.

One thing I learn anew each day is that it is important to make and keep good connections with people. Firstly connect to yourself then expand the circle of love. Love starts within and spreads like the ripples in water.

People are strength to the spirit. People are joy to the heart. People are living today, just like me.

Unique stamps

As a child I used to love collecting stamps.

I still have my trusty, battered but precious, Stanley Gibbons Improved Postage Stamp Album for all the World’s Stamps. It brings back pleasant memories of saving pocket money and buying bags of stamps from all over the world from the classified pages in the Exchange and Mart, then waiting for them to arrive by post.

Some of the countries listed on the pages no longer exist but the stamps that are attached to the pages show that they were there once and important.

I still collect stamps.

Yes, I’m one of those people who enjoys looking at these special little pieces of paper with patterns and prices on them. The Royal Mail Mint Stamp collections are some of the more interesting new additions to my collection. I am particular about which ones I get. Not every new batch of stamps produced finds its way into my Stanley Gibbons Album.

I think the immense range of stamps that are produced around the world is a bit like the people that we have in our lives. They vary in so many ways but they all have a reason for being there. Just like the stamps in my book.

The edges of the stamps (unless mint condition) are often ripped, frayed and worn. If the stamp has been used it has marks all over it, showing where it was posted from and when it was posted. Strangely these marks all make the stamp unique and special. They tell their own story of the character and journey of that stamp. So it is with people. Like the mass produced stamps we have so much in common but we also have our unique marks and journeys to make. Our individual origin and destination is special.

The best thing that I have discovered is that we have a choice, each day, about our destination. We have the privilege to direct parts of our own journey.

The front of the stamp tells us a lot about what is popular, important, interesting or relevant at that time. People are so similar, they show you their faces but to know more about them you have to take time to know their history - where they’ve come from as well as where they’re going. Only then do you begin to appreciate the joys of your unique group of friends – and yourself.