Nothing to Fear, but fear itself?

Gut wrenching, indomitable, overpowering terror. Something which many people will encounter at some point in their lives. Don't think for one second that I am being dramatic, it's true!

But it is how a person deals with it, that creates strength of character. Even people who struggle with it for many years, whether in the form of depression, OCD or phobia's, show the turmoil and continue with their lives, speaks volumes to me. The survival instinct of the Human Race in glorious technicolour. There are organisations and people willing to listen or help, all we have to do is reach out and ask.

I fight a daily battle myself, yet plough through it doggedly. I WILL NOT GIVE UP! It is easy to feel isolated. My message to others .... you're not alone! As a society we judge others all the time. If you find yourself doing it, stop and ask yourself "What's their story? What events in their lives have made them the person they are today?". Consider the possibilities, realise your own situation and what may have brought you to that point in your life, and then ask yourself if you still believe in your initial split second judgement.

Life is for living and loving, and that's something I move towards everyday. Growing as a person along the way, ever changing, yet rooted.

Today, the act of kindness from a stranger reminded me of all this. Which is why my post is a little late today. It is different from the blog I was originally going to write. That act of kindness in the form of concern for my well-being made me want to pass it forward.


Thank you .....

Today you made all the difference
Made me realise I wasn't alone
You listened carefully and quietly
Allowed me to have a moan.

When you spoke, I felt the sincerity
The genuine heartfelt concern
No judgemental doctrine
Only caring words in return.

Saying "Thank You" seems inadequate
Not conveying the true depth
Of my gratitude for your attention
Your kindness, I won't forget!


I realise the concept of "paying it forward" is an Americanism. It is however, one I fully intend on adopting.  Sometimes it is the little things that make all the difference to a persons day.

Thanks for reading. ;-) x

Read More

Gratitude

Last week I dropped my netbook on the floor. Afterwards it made an annoying beeping sound as if it were on a countdown to its own self-destruction. As I’ve now discovered, it had already destroyed itself, and every unsaved document on its unrepairable hard-drive was locked and lost within its broken components. Most of these documents were poetry related: finished poems, drafts of poems, quickly jotted ideas, and new poems that were still trying to find their form and direction. Stupidly, I had forgotten to back these documents up, and with one bump on the floor three years had been forgotten.

Poetry last week didn’t offer the taste of satisfaction that it usually evokes on the taste buds. Instead it was salty from the tears that caught my lips, bitter from anger at my own negligence…

But then, on Monday, something happened to wipe these unpleasant tastes from my taste buds, to remind me that some lost documents wasn’t the end of the world. And you, dear reader, played your part in helping this realisation to surface. As I unpacked boxes of food and toiletries from our Blackpool Foodbank collection, I was overwhelmed by your generosity and kindness. In just over a week we (as a poetry group) managed to fill almost four cardboard boxes with an array of items for those who are struggling and in need.

All the food collected by the Dead Good Poets

The salty, bitter taste was replaced by something as warm as cinnamon and as beautiful as snow tumbling in the headlights at night. I was filled with gratitude, because one solitary blog post had spoken to many people, because we’d made a difference to our community and given something back, because I’d asked and so many of you were willing to help. So to all of you, I would like to personally say thank you for your beautiful generosity (which I’m sure will mean the world to a few families this Christmas – and which certainly made my week a better one).

May each of your Christmases be filled with the same love you’ve shown.

Lara 

Read More

Down but never out - Blue Ted is the Great Survivor

A cursory tedcount of bears around my house reveals that we are the proud owners of 26 teddy bears. In the interests of accuracy I have excluded various Bagpusses, reindeers etc. And what an motley crew they are, ranging from a Commonwealth Games bear to a Jester ted from Nottingham Castle.

Once after a party I found them all on top of the landing bookcase where they lived at the time, carefully posed in various types of sexual congress. Some kind revellers had rearranged them in ways that were unedifying to an unsuspecting voyeur, but probably great fun for the teds. Not happy - it was my party, not theirs.

But the doyenne of teds has to be one Blue Ted. Bought second hand at a Labour Party Christmas Fair 30 years ago for my daughter, he has proved to be the great survivor. Brushing off an early skirmish in a washing machine at the hands of a well- meaning but over-fastidious relation who considered him to be ‘dirty’, and washed him within an inch of his life, thus robbing him forever of the precious, individual smell that made him Blue Ted, he survived to be and remain my daughter’s constant companion. Katharine and I still remember that smell.

  

He survived a disastrous adventure in an Athens hotel once. He was left on top of our suitcases ready for travelling home while we went for a final walk around Athens. On our return, he was gone and a massive search was mounted, involving many people on our return flight and numerous hotel staff, with no success. Time was running out and we had to board the airport coach without him. Katharine was inconsolable when, with all hope gone, as the coach was leaving, the hotel manager ran up, beating on the window and brandishing – Blue Ted. Some local children had been playing football with him!!!! The inhumanity of it, but at least he survived.

 

He was a regular Blackpool supporter too and was well travelled to distant away grounds. This was not to the Emirates and White Hart Lane, as in recent glory days. More likely, it would be to Aldershot or Maidstone, Halifax or Barnet. He is not a glory hunter, he is a proper football fan.

He has survived numerous operations and bears many carefully darned matching blue scars. Blue Ted, I salute you for your resilience, your place in our family history, your joie de vivre, your constancy.

 

Here's Lulu Canard's take on teddy bears:

All I need to know about life I learned from my teddy bear:-

 

Hugs are even better than chocolate

There's no such thing as too many kisses

One good cuddle can change a grumpy day

Love is supposed to wear out your fur a little

It's okay to let your stuffing show now and then

Listening is as important as talking

Someone's got to keep their eyes open all the time

It's never too late to have a happy childhood

Everyone needs someone to hold on to

There's no friend like an old friend.

 

Lulu Canard

 

As you may know, this is my last blog for now. I return to face the music at college next week as a second year student of English Language, Literature and Creative Writing and, by a happy coincidence, Lara has handed in her MA portfolio and is raring to go again as a blogger. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed this stint as a Dead Good Poets blogger and I thank you all for reading my efforts. I’ll continue to be involved in DGP and am proud to be a part of something so creative and special in my home town. I thank Ashley and all the bloggers for their kindness, support and good humour and for the opportunity to write for an audience at this early stage of my writing ‘career’.

Sheilagh xxxx

Read More