Beautybeyondbones.com inspired this post. I just read her post, which is a little political. Although it is also anti-abortion.
For some reason, I’ve been thinking about this subject, of late, myself.
Let’s just say I know a woman to whom it was once suggested she have an abortion by her well-meaning father-in-law. That woman had already given birth to three wonderful, unique children. She loved every moment of being a mother. There was no question of her getting an abortion. She was married, deeply religious, and she trusted god to provide for the child. Her husband was struggling with the idea of a forth child.
This woman became very depressed during the pregnancy because she was happy about the child but it seemed nobody else was. Even her, so called, friends tried to tell her that she would end up needing a hysterectomy. None of the terrible proclamations came true. The friend gave birth to an angelic child and became a fitness coach with a great figure.
She is now retired.
The forth child is multi-talented, and, guess what? Out of all four children, the only child that has visited her during Lockdown is that child.
Truly a blessing.
My own abortion story is a little different. My grandmother refused to abort my mother in the 1940s.
As a result of her decision, my grandmother had a difficult life as a char lady. My mother had to endure being put in a home, run by nuns. My grandmother was turned out of houses when they found out that she had a child out of wedlock. Her sisters barely ever visited and she spent almost her whole life alone, because of the stigma of having a child out of wedlock. My grandmother was a quiet woman who rarely spoke about her life and listened to LBC every day as though she was hoping for news of something. She had travelled from Wexford in Ireland to make a life for herself in England. I think she was a brave woman.
Despite this difficult start to her life, my mother survived, went on to give birth to 11 very well behaved children, brought up to never discuss money or politics, and one of them, of course, was me.
Me aged nineteen, or twenty, letting my hair down, and dressing up, with my staff.
Although lately, I’ve become less prim and proper, as I think that it is sometimes useful to share experiences, and after all sharing is a way of showing others that you can overcome obstacles.
I was reflecting just now on my response to someone who offered to do me a favour. I expected to be asked to pay for it.I seem to have become conditioned to expecting to do things for people and to pay myself or get no financial reward. Why is this? How did this happen?I have a habit of reflecting. I suppose it is born out of being an over-thinker. Over thinking is when you run the same scenario over and over in your head and try to arrive at the reason you’ve had a negative interaction with someone. It is rather pointless because you will arrive at the same conclusions if you are in the same frame of mind. And growth that way is difficult.Now reflection is something else. It is quiet for one thing. For another it requires that you look very closely at your motivation and what pushed you to react in a certain way. It is useful because it shifts the responsibility back to your own door. You have to make the change, to loosely refer to a song lyric by one of my favourite of all time artists MJ. (I was lucky enough to see Michael in concert in the 90s, but that is another story.)Where was I going with all this? Well, I’m analysing why I was so, well, punishing, to the kind person and myself. I suppose I was expecting someone to want something for nothing again.Lately, with Lockdown and being ostracised from my near and dear ones, I’ve been using music as a way of getting a fix of empathy. Old music; music that has been with me for years. This means lyrics are at the forefront of my mind. (I’m writing from Costa today; for some reason they have excellent internet and I’m managing to avoid errors/typos, so I thought I’d give them a plug.) Usually I’m in Coffee 1. I have a gardening business and I was sitting the rain out, but it is incessant, so we’ve agreed I’ll do two hours next week. Still, I’m glad I went out because my phone works better away from the house. Don’t ask me why, it’s only a 12 minute walk up the road into town. Had I not gone out at 8 am anyway, I would not have chatted to my son. And we’ve missed one another for the past ten days. He’s studying medicine, and rings me whenever he can, in between shifts. So lovely to be blessed with such a boy. Anyway, again I digress.I was interrupted by calls and messages and things as I sat in the gloom of Coffee 1. I like it in there, as I enjoy hiding away and fading into obscurity. Yet, how about being seen instead? So here I am sitting in Costa, down the street and looking out at the rain. No rainbow in sight. Or is there?And so, because I have allowed it to, this story has come full circle, meandering to and fro with the lovely lilt of an Italian accent in the background. I know this because I’ve worked with Italians, and been to Italy twice, and here I am, sitting in the light and taking a photograph out the window to share with you. And now that I have let the light in who knows what treasures and abundance await?
Finally, a sea change. Today on Radio 4 a scientist announced to the general public that science is not fixed. The reason for this statement is that people apparently thought that it was and should be taken as read when initially commenting on Covid-19 as advisory bodies to the government.
Hurrah. I have been reminding my children of this important fact for decades.
An example of this fact in motion might be that BMI (body mass index), is becoming less popular as a guide for whether you are overweight. Now were I to ignore the aspect of my course that encourages me to look at other sites, such as British Heart Foundation and NHS websites, and merely rely on the manual (I’m currently studying for a diploma in personal training), I would not know this.
Thankfully, I’ve always had an enquiring mind, and love to research. There is also height minus waist measurement as a guide to ideal and healthy measurements.
One thing I never forget is that Freud always encouraged his students to challenge his thinking.
At the start of Lockdown I predicted that creativity would solve the mess of Covid, and it appears that there are signs that creativity is finally taking it’s rightful place as a worthwhile and useful talent, which is of fundamental value to our very existence.
The problem, as I have said somewhere else, has always been, the fixed and unrelenting repetition of our systems of education at junior and secondary level, all based on remembering facts, which, as others have stated again and again, stifle creativity.
I’ve been to three interviews in this dress, and been offered all three roles.
I’ve cycled up Formentor in it because I thought my veins too unsightly for shorts, and it keeps me cool:
I have prayed in churches in this dress.
I sewed sequins on it, and wore it to a party….
I wore it when I put on weight.
And when I lost it:
Now where did I put that photograph?
I put a dart in it when lost a stone:
I have owned this dress for eight years.
Thank you all. A thousand likes to date.
Thank you for your patience with my cheap phone, which edits in typos as I type, at times, and doesn’t save my corrections. Thank you for following and for your likes. I am grateful that you have turned up and read my content. I’ve been a dedicated writer for 36 years. Last year I was lucky enough to be accepted as a volunteer editor for Open: Journal of Arts and Letters, a wonderfully diverse platform for writers. I spend two hours a day editing and reading your work. I’m now also running my own gardening company and I’m still writing. I hope you enjoy my Sci-Fi Rom horror series which I update here several times a week. It’s free and fun. I’ve also sent a query and pages of a children’s novel to an agent this month.
And thank you for following.