tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63460988609076515872024-03-13T17:16:40.517-07:00A thousand kisses deepI am exploring my creativity but I am a writer.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-18103912513831504192011-09-28T06:35:00.001-07:002011-09-28T06:35:37.371-07:00Gracetalking's photostream<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5963602321/in/photostream/" title="One" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6029/5963602321_9b5f35687c_s.jpg" alt="One" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964159242/in/photostream/" title="Two" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6010/5964159242_d2a72f48c7_s.jpg" alt="Two" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5963601177/in/photostream/" title="Three" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6030/5963601177_11f43f855b_s.jpg" alt="Three" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5963600565/in/photostream/" title="Four" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6141/5963600565_39977a83b7_s.jpg" alt="Four" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964157402/in/photostream/" title="Five" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6003/5964157402_276e072793_s.jpg" alt="Five" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964156802/in/photostream/" title="Six" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6023/5964156802_65596ffa6f_s.jpg" alt="Six" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964156360/in/photostream/" title="Seven" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6030/5964156360_962230414f_s.jpg" alt="Seven" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964155824/in/photostream/" title="Eight" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6004/5964155824_1facddffe6_s.jpg" alt="Eight" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964154504/in/photostream/" title="Nine" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/5964154504_604ffab58f_s.jpg" alt="Nine" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964151902/in/photostream/" title="Ten" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6022/5964151902_626de70716_s.jpg" alt="Ten" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5964149994/in/photostream/" title="Eleven" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6146/5964149994_1058803432_s.jpg" alt="Eleven" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5963591053/in/photostream/" title="Twelve" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6006/5963591053_959623cd52_s.jpg" alt="Twelve" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489742174/in/photostream/" title="Amusing street name" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5295/5489742174_405a739745_s.jpg" alt="Amusing street name" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489143993/in/photostream/" title="Roaches" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5299/5489143993_b4d5bc0885_s.jpg" alt="Roaches" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489739638/in/photostream/" title="Squirrel" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5057/5489739638_91b0b1b572_s.jpg" alt="Squirrel" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489141255/in/photostream/" title="Close wood" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5173/5489141255_a89b81f36c_s.jpg" alt="Close wood" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489139901/in/photostream/" title="Babies" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5017/5489139901_e48c1a564c_s.jpg" alt="Babies" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489735604/in/photostream/" title="Street advert" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5218/5489735604_94b86aae81_s.jpg" alt="Street advert" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489137585/in/photostream/" title="Burning the heather" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5095/5489137585_596b96ce25_s.jpg" alt="Burning the heather" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489136555/in/photostream/" title="Castle Stalker" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5132/5489136555_4692e18bd7_s.jpg" alt="Castle Stalker" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489135335/in/photostream/" title="Stoke on Trent sculpture" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5094/5489135335_1712cb07f8_s.jpg" alt="Stoke on Trent sculpture" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489731646/in/photostream/" title="Lock gates" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5260/5489731646_9f43193976_s.jpg" alt="Lock gates" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489133323/in/photostream/" title="Odd ducks" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5131/5489133323_a917b2800f_s.jpg" alt="Odd ducks" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/5489132257/in/photostream/" title="Flamingo land" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5299/5489132257_651999db8c_s.jpg" alt="Flamingo land" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grace-talking/">Gracetalking's photostream</a> on Flickr.</p></div><p>Work in progress</p>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-76924256056536274592011-01-23T03:50:00.000-08:002011-01-23T03:51:22.586-08:00http://www.glenallison.com/stroborati-blog/A truly fascinating blog, well worth following :)<br />
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<a href="http://www.glenallison.com/stroborati-blog/">http://www.glenallison.com/stroborati-blog/</a>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-28244532622045002272011-01-22T10:21:00.000-08:002011-01-22T10:21:45.291-08:00Collaborating - Publishing your docs<a href="http://docs.google.com/support/bin/answer.py?hl=en&answer=37579&ctx=share">Collaborating - Publishing your docs</a><div><br /></div><div>http://www.scribd.com/shelf</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-31296455886599793572011-01-22T02:18:00.000-08:002011-01-22T02:18:04.315-08:00Iliterate Poet: Come And Go.<a href="http://illiteratepoetry.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-and-go.html?spref=bl">Iliterate Poet: Come And Go.</a>: "Go and stand in a wood all alone, then it becomes easier to hear how pathetically irrelevant, an ego truly is. Go without a proper meal for..."Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-16532848481200063382011-01-21T01:53:00.000-08:002011-01-21T01:53:56.941-08:00Mental health should be a priority!<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Wednesday, June 30, 2010</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes we are constantly told that mental health is a priority of various governments. How true is this? I don't think people really understand what it is like to be mentally ill. I don't mean seriously ill and cared for, I mean the walking wounded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those of us who can have trouble with the ordinary day to day things we all take for granted. When you are subject to panic attacks you feel afraid of having one. That fear can sometimes cause one. Having to deal with any pressure and of course the inevitable pressure you put on yourself can make doing things very difficult. Attending an interview today I had a panic attack because I thought I was going to be late, I couldn't find anywhere to park. When I came out I was so flustered and concerned with the car next to mine that I went to far and touched the barrier. Thankfully no damage was done, I had been driving slowly.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When you are subject to anxiety you can become physically ill and be unable to cope with the slightest thing. This is the nature of this type of condition.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is just a shame that a disabled man had to experience his own similar symptoms and strain himself physically due to an oversight by a department of Income Support. When dealing with people with mental health problems or disabilities I believe staff should have experienced training in the difficulties many people with a condition or disability of some kind have with ordinary day-to-day tasks and pressure.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When you are ill it may be very difficult to do something you would not have thought twice about doing before. Just because I am ill does not mean I am stupid. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-85341100195100163292011-01-20T12:14:00.000-08:002011-01-20T12:14:12.137-08:00Damien Rice - The Blower's Daughter - Official Video<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5YXVMCHG-Nk?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-68837316424684681402011-01-16T02:20:00.001-08:002011-01-16T02:20:56.198-08:00Does anyone else worry about our kids?<!--StartFragment--> <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Many of our most personal relationships are conducted virtually. Chat rooms and mobiles and emails. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is so common now for a young person to be at home in her bedroom playing with her friends via the internet. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We have to ask how do we learn about relationships? By having them of course, when we have virtual relationships we miss a great deal. Body language can help so much. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">How many times have you sent or received a text which has upset or annoyed you. If it had been said face to face body language would have showed you were only joking or teasing. </div><!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-73585213519265687252011-01-16T01:32:00.001-08:002011-01-16T01:32:42.799-08:00mausoleum<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/julian_marshall/5355935948/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5202/5355935948_ec4be27bea_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/julian_marshall/5355935948/">mausoleum</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/julian_marshall/">jules by night</a></span></div>This man's work is amazing, check it out :)<br clear="all" />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-56814767846037730472011-01-15T02:27:00.001-08:002011-01-15T02:27:51.889-08:00It should be simple<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Why do we make the simplest of things so difficult for ourselves?, turning things over and over in our minds, first this way then that way. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Wouldn't you think the easiest thing in the world would be to be true to yourself? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">How many times do we sacrifice some advantage or thing we want in order to please another. It is called being unselfish, something the Catholic Faith convinced little girls they must be. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This in itself is not such a bad thing, but combine it with an early developed and acute sense of responsibility and a feeling of worthlessness stemming from an unfortunate childhood and what do you get?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>A greater difficulty in being true to yourself. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-57125633979958149382011-01-14T04:47:00.000-08:002011-01-14T04:47:58.314-08:00I should have been a hippy !<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I should have been a hippy but I grew up in Lincolnshire! I loved it, I'm a country girl but all we got was one local festival I was too young to go to and loon pants. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I've made up for it since I came here to go to University and stayed. I have seen lots of live music, been to a party that was really cool and turned out to be the local dealers works do. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Walked in some wonderful places and had some mad camping trips. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But the thing I have done that makes me stay is make some incredible friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A network of unconditional friends is a basic necessity for a happy life and I value mine. They know who they are.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I always told anyone who asked the most important thing in life is to be true to yourself. We all have a duty to seek to understand ourself and in doing so accept our-self warts and all. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is easy to say and harder to do. That's where the network of unconditional love from your friends is so important.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But I'm a soldiers daughter and I believe its the journey that matters, learning to love yourself can take a long time and you can learn a lot along the way.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If we reflect on our experiences after a suitable time there will always be a new insight, nothing is ever wasted.</div><!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-45263883873333687702011-01-13T03:13:00.000-08:002011-01-13T03:14:46.435-08:00Strange thoughts for a Thursday<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thinking about a lifestyle, as free as can be, the smallest needs means the smallest compromise. And then of course there is always a possibility of work that relates to your passion. But we need to get out from under the "Man" as much as we can, only in a state of freedom from the man can we truly explore our creativity, our passion. We all have one or more, I have many; words (obviously), truth, countryside, music, water (and boats), to name some. But many of us suppress our interests when young because they cost money or because a failure discouraged us or simply because it was too frivolous in a world of study to get a "good" job. I think that spark of creativity within us all is natures healing tool. From my own experience I am finding writing and other projects so helpful when I am ill. Sometimes all you need is a push in the right direction, encouragement to follow your own unique way to happiness. Some might think this could ultimately be selfish and in a sense that is right but only in the sense of putting your own healing first. We need to be as balanced as we can in the proportions of our lives, making as few compromises as possible doesn't have to be detrimental to anyone else. Being true to ourselves is a duty, only through that will we have anything genuine to offer anyone else.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-54218668056965867542011-01-08T04:27:00.001-08:002011-01-08T04:27:21.167-08:00Ready for loveWhen you are happy in your own company, you are ready to love someone else.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-62438189689240261262011-01-08T03:18:00.001-08:002011-01-08T03:57:08.567-08:00When you are not looking<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes we just have to be in the right place at the right time. When you are not looking you can meet the exact person you need in your life right then. When that happens you are truly blessed </div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-34788010690711695192010-11-22T02:00:00.000-08:002010-11-22T02:00:01.018-08:00I was born a child<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"></span><br />
<div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 1.2em/1.5 arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I was born a child, did not stay that way for too long. Moving between object and pawn, pacifier and supplicant. Responsibility became my attribute, those who loved me, needed me, abused me. Taking care of those who loved me a daily experience, love became a bartered thing, a tarnished coin, earned through suffering and patience.</div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 1.2em/1.5 arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I became an adult early, responsible for other’s lives, hardly mine. My needs ignored, driven by the determination to break the cycle. I would be the mother I never had to my children, they would never doubt my love.</div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 1.2em/1.5 arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Those who are abused it is said become abusers, I fought to make this a lie. Sadly we make different mistakes. I did not abuse my children but I was a burden, a weight they carried. Delicate, troubled they nevertheless loved me but I wish I had been boring for them.</div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 1.2em/1.5 arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">It was I who closed her voice, I who disregarded her. Hard though it is to know that fact, there is peace in acceptance. Combining who I have been for so long with who I am becoming, now I hear her voice and acknowledge her, is terrifying but exhilarating.</div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 1.2em/1.5 arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But I wish I could give that child her life back, I wish I could give her what all children need. That time is gone but I can try to give her comfort now. I rage against those who took her childhood from her, I speak out now, I listen to her voice now, I tell the world now</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-83264661915859754222010-10-19T02:18:00.000-07:002010-10-19T02:18:19.824-07:00Life is like a roller coasterLife is like a roller coaster, one day up and one day down. Just when you think you know where you are going and how you are getting there, all change. Many of us do not handle change well, we like to stick to the path. But such pleasures and opportunities can wait for us on the less well travelled path. Take a detour for a moment and consider a different direction, perhaps it is "meant" that you should go this way after all. Sometimes it feels as if the world is conspiring to make you change your mind, accidents will happen, sometimes fortuitously. In a sense, if we believe in pre-destination, there are no accidents, it is all "meant" to be. So enjoy and learn from all life's detours.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-1975397044121855792010-09-18T08:05:00.000-07:002010-09-18T08:05:50.729-07:00I am delicate at the moment, I admit it.I am delicate at the moment, I admit it. I am feeling sensitive and troubled. It's nothing major, I know that. Trying to be positive, need to make more time to daydream. Got to get a routine established and begin working. Got to help myself. What do I want right now? I want to feel like I did a few days ago, when the world was floating along cajoling me along with it. When everything in my world was right and as it should be. Now I feel scared, I know that it is just the emotional child feeling vulnerable, she feels I am silencing her again. Communication has always been my skill and my biggest challenge. When I was a child I denied my self a voice. I kept it all inside in the place where I lived. As an adult I have been a communicator, a teacher and fought to give people a voice. I have treated the world and his dog as I should have treated myself. Finally, I hear my voice and I have to write, but still I am stopping myself, still I am denying myself a voice. But it has been the fault of this or that, which is wrong. I said to someone the other day if you need to work you will, if you don't it is because you don't want to. Is it because the habit of denial is to strong? Is it fear of what else might have to be learned and accepted? Where is the certainty that I should write, that it might reach people? Can I only listen to my voice if it achieves a certain status? My belief in my writing was my belief in myself. Why do I not believe in myself any more?Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-38817163308728768552010-09-05T13:02:00.000-07:002010-09-05T13:02:54.360-07:00HarmonyDo you know what I mean by harmony? For me its beauty, space, peace, the absence of clutter. A spiritual thing, a meditative thing.<br />
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When I am working I need to shut the world out, headphones and music. I need to begin with a tidy mind, a tidy desk will give me that. I need cards to play when I want to think.<br />
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In my day to day life I like order and harmony, this allows me to move around on auto pilot without bumping into something or breaking something.<br />
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I have always been called a day dreamer, but I say I have been writing in my head all my life.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-89070885056866054982010-09-01T00:38:00.000-07:002010-09-01T00:38:01.054-07:00Because we want toChange is hard, it is easy to get hung up on petty things. Like, I have always done it that way, or I always keep that there. Living alone for some time confirms us in our habits. It can be a strain learning to accommodate another persons habits. However it can be fun negotiating and compromising so long as we ditch the petty things which don't actually effect our day to day living and concentrate on the bigger things.<br />
It also helps to remember why we invited the other to share our life, for the pleasure of their company. For the way they make us laugh, for the love they give us and help us to feel. For the delight of knowing someone knows us and loves us warts and all.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-6019608051529891302010-08-28T06:41:00.000-07:002011-01-08T03:53:48.779-08:00The two faces of technologyMary found her Mother after twenty six years through a web site, how wonderful. A couple were unfaithful in thought with their virtual alter egos and destroyed their marriage.<br />
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A child is born who is suitable as a bone marrow donor to his older sibling, how amazing.<br />
A child is born who is suitable as a bone marrow donor to his older sibling, how terrifying.<br />
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We can detect genetic problems and rectify them in the womb, how wonderful.<br />
Insurance companies are using genetic factors to decide premiums or refuse someone insurance.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-55718350139803428212010-08-05T23:10:00.000-07:002010-08-05T23:10:16.437-07:00RegretThey say we should have no regrets in life, but we do. We regret chances not taken, or chances missed. We regret letting go of important things and holding on to things that don't matter. But we just have to pick ourselves up and carry on, making sure we have learnt our lesson. And try not to be too sad.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-80716964303489116962010-08-04T00:31:00.000-07:002010-08-04T00:31:32.117-07:00Old habits die hardHow do you put new learning into practice? You try to understand what you need in your life. You try to stand firm and insist on your needs. But old habits die hard and it is so easy to slip back into patterns of behaviour that you thought you had left behind. It is one thing to take care of yourself and another to be selfish and not consider another's feelings and needs. All you can do is pick yourself up, try to make amends and be determined not to revert to old patterns of behaviour in the future. Oh and not hate yourself too much for your mistakes.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-68636068194423267802010-07-10T13:12:00.000-07:002010-07-10T13:13:20.276-07:00Love is being a butterfly on a stringLove is resting in the comfort that certainty and trust gives you. Love is feeding each other ideas and getting them back improved. Love is having someone to keep you down to earth. Love is being a butterfly on a string.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-76377463606526515242010-06-30T08:34:00.000-07:002010-06-30T08:34:29.641-07:00Respect yourselfLove is respecting the person you love, having admiration for their accomplishments. Love is trusting the one you love to be true no matter where you are because you know they are committed to you as you are to them. Love is catching up, discovering a slightly different person than the one you knew. Love is an understanding that is almost telepathic, love is a heady mixture of old and new.<br />
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Love is also respect for yourself and love for yourself. Love is forgiving your flaws, accepting them. Love is understanding what you need in your life and what you don't need. Love is taking care of yourself, of being who you truly are.<br />
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We all need someone to love but we should not need someone to love us, we should love ourselves.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-16315877429849182502010-06-21T15:46:00.000-07:002010-06-21T15:46:22.518-07:00Happiness is.....Happiness is a warm shared glance with someone who knows you better than you know yourself. With someone who has made a study of your every mood and expression. Happiness is shared jokes and memories. Happiness is feeling loved and loving. Happiness is excitement for the future, and fondness for the past. Happiness is sharing on every level, unselfishly.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6346098860907651587.post-69013620912314825382010-06-14T12:28:00.000-07:002010-06-14T12:28:48.987-07:00FreedomFreedom is emotional maturity and emotional maturity is freedom.<br />
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How do we learn to be emotionally mature? by taking responsibility for our actions. By acknowledging our mistakes. When we see our self truly and love ourselves unconditionally we have no need of another. All choices are made freely without the constraint that need can wrap us in. When we do not need the constant presence of someone to give us an identity, we are truly free.<br />
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Emotional maturity allows us to forgive ourselves and others for we are all the same, only the mistakes are different. Always help a fellow traveller if you can but not in a way which impedes your journey.<br />
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Each of us has to make their own journey. If we are fortunate we have a companion for some of the way. When we no longer need a mirror to know who we are we are truly free.Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00703958972908949164noreply@blogger.com0