Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Who Loves Me Baby?


This was waiting for me when I got home this evening.

Come along, 'fess up. Who was it?

It made me laugh and laugh. It filled me with light.Thank you so much.

Update: A late night phone call solved this mystery. Northern Bloke gave it to me! He ordered it from the US about 3 weeks ago. I think I might just have to keep him.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Goodbye to 64, York St

Gee and her family moved out of their house on Thursday. It's not my house, not my home. But it's a place where I could call home. It was where I was always welcome. Where I could walk in, put the kettle on, make coffee, sit for a while to put the world to rights. Wednesday night, I rocked up for the last time to 64 York Street. I was knackered, work was very busy I hadn't stopped all day. But I wasn't going to not say goodbye to that house, the place which was also my refuge.

I first met Gee's eldest daughter, H in 1995. That was my first step on the spiritual path I currently walk upon. It's funny, but it's only really in hindsight, that the elegant weaving of coincidence, decision and event, can be seen as a solid, shining path. But it wasn't really until 1998 that our acquaintance changed to friendship. In the meantime, I'd become divorced, finished one relationship and got engaged to someone else. We bumped into each other at the Mind, Body and Spirit Festival and from that chance meeting, I picked up my training again. The training which led to my wearing the simple silver new moon that I only remove for medical reasons.

I began my training in 64 York Street.

It was through H's art project I really got to know her mum Gee and the rest of her family. Her fabulous sister Alix, her younger brothers (so long ago now, I was taller than them) and JD. The art project inadvertently caused the demise of the engagement; it was on it's way out anyway. It remains one of the most painful times in my Life, but one, I would never ever regret or hesitate to repeat. Had I got married to that man, it would have been a disaster.

It was through Gee, H and the whole family that I truly understood what friendship, loyalty, trust were all about and 64 York Street stood witness to it all.

I have a montage of memories:

Dancing in the front room on Christmas Day to Who Let the Dogs Out. H in her barely-there ball gown, Alix, the boys, Gee and me, all dancing around the coffee table.

Imbolc: The first time I got absolutely trashed. The Lovely Ursus coming to a sharp stop at the bottom of the stairs. Being escorted to a friend's house by JD, when my friend took me home he offered me a smint to counteract the garlic from the outstanding aioli I'd eaten, not to mention the smoking. I declined. I told him 'I've had enough drugs.'

Being invited to 'call round' on my 29th birthday. You've never lived until you've had the Happy Birthday Song performed in a capella. Trust me on this. I still have the gorgeous wrap. It travels the world with me.

Making god's eyes with Gee as I processed the loss of my beloved ex-MIL.

Making insence with Gee and discovering that many of the ingredients of kyphie are aphrodisiacs. I did believe in the concept of aphrodisacs; desire can't be triggered by chemicals. Hah. I knew it was time to beat a hasty retreat when I was grinding cardamom seeds in a mortar and pestle, Gee's husband JD, came in the room and I found myself looking at him and going 'phwoar'. Gee laughed and laughed when I told why I'd run away that afternoon.

The first chant.

Meeting and loving the members of the Norwich Chant Collective over the years.

Being pulled up by the short and curlies by Gee for my very inappropriate behaviour. Let me tell you, a dressing down by Gee is a painful and lasting experience. I bless the day she risked our friendship to tell me like it is. The most important lesson I learnt from that was a friend is definied by the willingness to risk everything to tell the truth, especially because it's the last thing that wants to be told.

My priestess training happened at 64 York Street. The same time I was processesing my mother's death. I remember having a coffee with Gee just after I returned from Trinidad, after her death, to say that I was so raw, it was as if a protective layer had been stripped away from me and for the first time I saw what Life was all about. It was the first time I truly understood I was mortal. It was the first time I truly understood time was precious. I began to make better choices from those conversations. Sitting in the back room, drinking coffee.

So many memories. I can't tell you how many times I cried in that house. I can tell you I laughed so much more than that there.

Ever since I've known the family, Gee has been wanting to move out; now she has. And it's the end of an era. For the only thing constant in Life is Change.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

This is Your Wake-Up Call, Roses

Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems there is a theme for September and it is: Get thy Arse into Gear. Long-term readers know of my previous difficulties with my Bank Manager. Uncaring bastard does not appreciate I need to fund my lavish life-style of sparkly things, fine fragrance, coffee and fine dining. Neither does he recognise my wish to play my part in rescuing the British Retail Industry, which of course, I do from an entirely selfish and caring stand point. I know, I know, always thinking of others over myself and my needs.

This morning, he wouldn't let me use my plastic. Now, until the banks open tomorrow, I won't know why. It might be that it's just a glitch as my account changes from one form to another, or it could be that I've just simply spent too much (cause I do that).

Whatever the cause, it didn't change that lovely oh fuck feeling that swept over me.

I squeaked at Gee and we arranged I could go and whinge at her, drink coffee and smoke half a hundred-weight of tobacco. Because she was being a good friend, I washed and put on clean clothes. I know, I know, I'm such a good friend. But I think if you're going to whinge at someone for self-generated problems, being well presented is only polite.

But as I was throwing laundry in the washing machine, as the bath was running a thought occurred to me. I have a choice here. I can't change the fact my card went NO! but I can change my reaction to the circumstances. I can change my state. So, I did. Beating myself up would be counter-productive and frankly, not very truthful of me. I have loved spending every last penny, the last couple of years. I love my house, the clothes, the sparkly bits and my shiny car. Please don't think I'm living in splendour...I'm not. But for a long, long time I haven't had to think about buying a £30.00 pair of jeans or a £6.00 bunch of sparkly bracelets. I could over-react and run around like a headless-chicken. But I'm not going to.

I am going to continue doing what I'm doing. I'm going to set up my NLP practice, write some courses, tout around for business. This is all about generating a further income for myself. This is about me doing stuff for me.

And yes, I am cutting down on my spending. I'm well versed in living hand to mouth. Lord knows I've had enough practise at it. The thing is, I've needed the last couple of years to focus on me and getting myself sorted. I've come through this period, a helluva lot stronger and more together than I was when I went into it. I have learnt so much about Life, me and my relationships with other people.

The money thing, is not really about lack of money, it's about focusing on my Bliss and putting it out there. It's about bringing everything into alignment: my values and my skills and how I live. It's about not using money as an excuse not to engage with everyday things. It's about not Procrastinating.

I am really excited. It's all about rising to the Challenge. What can I do for myself? Not only that, what can I do to make it Fun? I don't want to adopt the air of a martyr - oh woe is me, I'm broke. Although, my safety-net enabled me to get my head sorted, it also divorced me from my Get Up and Go. I got to sit, stare at my navel and make cups of tea for the Self-Pity Gnome. Yeah, I needed to do that shit then. No, I don't need to do that shit anymore.

Yeah, I'm scared. But you know what? Fear and excitement are right next to each other and they mean I'm doing something different, something a bit risky. And fuck it. I'm going to do it anyway.

Friday, September 09, 2011

Busy, Busy, Busy

Apologies for my recent absence in Blogland. Normally, if I'm not blogging I'm at least visiting all of you lovely people. But this week has been #omgbusy at work. And I've been loving every minute of it.

We had a major event at work...our annual Charity Golf Day. Whilst I've just been on the periphery of the event, my Manager and Other Team Member have been organising this for years between them, I've been picking up bits and pieces to do as well. Not only that, next week, we've got a Client Investment Event to do, which is falling more under my jurisdiction. So, next week is likely to be equally manic.

Which is great. I love that work gets chucked at me out of the blue. I love the hopping from one priority to another. The minute my To Do List has less than 10 items on it, I start getting bored. Last night, socialising with the Great and the Good, people asked me what I did at work. What should be a very simple question. That I don't have a simple answer is why I get off on working there. I don't have a job description. I just do what needs doing and am prepared for the unexpected.

It just means things at home have disappeared under a whole heap of tired. Fortunately, this weekend I only have one committment: I'm off to see an art exhibition. The rest of the weekend will be taken up with pottering, lounging and loafing. My bedroom floor is MIA again. I'm pretty sure I have carpet underneath there, but haven't seen it for awhile. So, the washing machine will be doing it's stuff. I've also got a huge pile of NLP reading to do. My Plans for World Domination require me to start consolidating my learning.

My Mentor cautioned me about doing any other learning or training for at least 6 months after my Practitioner course. If you think about NLP along the lines of computer programming, doing the Practitioner course installed new Operating Software into my neurology. It takes time for the OS to bed in and until it's properly bedded in, you can't really see how things will run. I followed his advice.  After my training I was on an NLP high for about 6 weeks, managed to drive everyone nuts. Life knocked me off the high and I dealt with all of the resulting drama. The difference I noticed was actually quite marked. Personal dramas that in the past would have dragged on and on (and on), I took steps to cut short. Best of all, I didn't get caught up in them. They didn't turn into the self-destructive cycles, they had the potential for. It didn't stop me feeling sad, or cross or disappointed. But they didn't turn into a poor reflection of me.

Now is the time to consolidate my unconscious learning. Bring it to the forefront of my thinking. Hence the pile of books. Goodness, does Amazon love me. Boy and I are off to see Paul McKenna and Richard Bandler strutt their stuff in October. I'm really looking forward to it. The timing seems impeccable, especially given my Plans for World Domination.

I've written all of that and I realise I actually have a huge amount to do in a very short space of time. Ah well. All will be well. It's just a question of pottering around in a determined manner. Yeah, I can do that.