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Singing the Stars to Earth, aka Nerdy Geeks & Geeky Nerds (63)
For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream. – Vincent van Gogh
(If you're interested in astrology, I'd like to recommend two reports by Liz Greene, a well-known astrologer, at Astrodienst. One is the Psychological Horoscope and the second is Career and Vocation. Astrodienst has software which somehow knocks up all the ingredients of your birth sign, date of birth and time of birth into reports which make you feel someone's seen deep inside of you and brought all your secrets and characteristics into the light of day. They aren't dirt cheap but they're a great investment. In addition, The Astrological Houses, by Howard Sasportas, is easy to read and makes astrological understanding of your own natal chart pretty simple to understand.)
If you want facts, figures, all sorts of odd bits and pieces of knowledge, recommendations about books to read, technie internet stuff – I'm you're girl.
But if you want practical stuff done, plants grown, letters mailed in the post, housework up to date and no dust – I'm sorry, I'll pass and you'll have to find someone else for that.
In astrological terms I have 10 air signs, 4 water signs, 2 fire signs and no earth. Which explains the airhead part of me and the total bollocks at practical stuff part of me.
I was a nerd/geek before the terms was invented. I used to love going to the Ramsgate library where I started off in the children's section before gravitating at a later age to the adult section. I adored the smell of books when you walked into the library, I'd inhale that scent as if it was created by Dior.
At the primary school Catholic Convent I was the Great Bright Hope of passing the 11+ exam and going to grammar school or to the adult convent. Since I hated the convent with a passion, the local grammar school, Clarendon House, was a no brainer for me.
I loved books, reading, learning, studying, absorbing facts and figures and foreign languages. I was always first or among the top three at primary and grammar school. And I was very lucky to attend an all-girls grammar school where academic achievement was encouraged and praised. I flourished right through to my Advanced Level GCE's. University was a lot tougher as I was suddenly mixing with clever and very clever students but I held my own.
So my life until I graduated from University with a 2:1 Joint Honours in French, German, French & German translating & interpreting, and German and French politics and economics was nose to the grindstone and head stuck in a book. It was a hell of a shock to exit the academic atmosphere at the age of twenty-three and suddenly find a real world existed outside of the halls of learning.
It never occurred to me to question how I function until I came into contact with astrology. As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm really rather partial to this very elegant system of understanding yourself and others. It makes sense of how we manifest ourselves on earth – we are unique individuals, cast from the stars, we bring the stars down into our lives and breathe their energies out into the way we progress upon our paths on this lovely planet of ours.
Most people look at astrology as the sun signs published in daily newspapers, but it's a lot more complex. I am not going into all the intricacies because you can explore that yourself if you're interested. I want to offer some simple comments from my own experience which, perhaps, might prompt you to do some of your own exploring of astrology and its role in explaining yourself and your own life.
I also want to stress that my interpretation of astrology is my very own, probably idiosyncratic, so to any astrologers who might happen to read this and differ from my own views – please don't get your knickers in a twist, this is how it works for me so this is how I'm going to explain it.
Going back to nerdy me, I have written all my life. I wrote stories back in primary school. I wrote stories in grammar school. I wrote stories at University. I have written stories in the good, bad and indifferent times of my life. It's been the bane of my life that people call me a know-all but it's because I absorb facts, figures and information, store them in my brain and can regurgitate that information really, really easily.
And I cannot not write.
Yet I took this gift for granted. It was so natural to me, I simply didn't realise that writing isn't easy for lots of other people. But when I started learning a bit about astrology, I got to understand myself a whole heap more, and also to understand my husband.
I have posted below a general overview of the houses in astrology, plus my own natal chart. In his book, The Astrological Houses, Howard Sasportas provides a brief, insightful summary of how astrology works: "the planets show what is happening, the signs how it is happening, and the houses where it is happening."
For me, the great majority of planets are bunched in air signs with three connecting into what is called a Grand Trine, and this Grand Trine compels me to communicate. I'm a gabster. I talk, I write, I communicate because it's what the stars are offering via my own little miracle on earth.
I'm not special. We are all of us miracles on earth, which is what makes life on this planet so interesting. If you have a look at my husband's astrological profile, he has 9 fire signs, 3 earth, 3 water and 1 air sign. He is on the go all the time, energetic, impatient, fires up very quickly but then it's all over. He's a leader, a soldier (was in the British Army), a union organiser, loved working on high-rise building sites and is now retired, whereupon he fixes up our houses and creates wonderful gardens.
We are in a sense opposites, but complementary opposites. If you look at my chart, you'll see that my Ascendant, the constellation which is on the horizon when you're born and whose energies you first inhale, is Libra. My husband's Ascendant is Aries, absolutely opposite. So we actually complement each other – I provide the patience, the nerdy, technological know-how, while my husband provides the practicality I lack. My family practised emotional lock-down, so when Bryan used to fire up, I would retreat and stop speaking. Eventually I learned that I had to stand up for myself and fire up too to stand my ground, and he learned to tone down the eruptions and also apologise when he went over the top.
I have watched someone who's a Capricorn/earth sign (stubborn, practical, good with money) try to interact with someone who's a Pisces/water sign (emotional, psychic, watery) with complete lack of understanding between the two. My friend is a Cancer/water and, while my husband and she get along, the idea of working closely together horrifies both of them. I have married friends who are a Capricorn and Virgo, earth signs, who are practical, tidy and good with money, which completely astounds me – it's beyond my experience!
None of this I understood until I started dabbling in astrology.
In my next post, I'm going to look at the placements of my individual planets to illustrate what makes me tick – my interest in people; my extreme sensitivity to atmosphere and people's energies; my psychic side; my writing about my life in order to a) get things off my chest and b) perhaps offer my experiences to help those with similar experiences. I'll also explain why – although I love inter-acting withe people – close relations are difficult for me which coloured my family life and my participation in large groups.
Hopefully all this might inspire you to do some astro digging yourself!
Migraines, Moving on…. (59)
When I'd returned to work, I went on a trade union training course and I remember an interesting moment in the middle of this course which shows how things are happening entirely at a hidden level.
I'd written some notes when the man sitting beside me picked up my journal and told me he was into graphology or the science of analysing handwriting.
"You're not happy where you are and you'll be leaving in a few weeks", he said.
"I love my work," I said vehemently, thinking he was real fraud.
And on the surface, it was true. I felt responsible in my position at the office and, although I didn't realise it at the time, I got my self-worth from being in paid work. I was only working part-time but, trust me, in that time I was a workaholic, always wanting to be the best I could.
Unfortunately, while my head told me one thing, my body told me another. Although I returned to work, things didn't improve. As I was the only person in the office, I'd have to catch up with all the word that hadn't been done. The pain in my shoulders and arms would return, and so did the excruciating headaches. At the same time, I created a crisis at work. I got bored doing the same old work. Story of my life, I'm afraid. Once I master something and know how things work, I lose interest. On to the next project.
At my office, however, I started angling to become a union organiser. I thought I enjoyed working with people, which is true in one sense, but what I ignored (or tried to stuff into the closet) was that every time I went out to talk to union members, I had to gear myself up to plaster a confident smile on my face and really steel myself to sally forth and spruik about union matters. What I also never realised until much later was that I subconsciously created conflict with the union president precisely because he was a man who, to my senses, was large and overbearing. Actually, he was quite pleasant. My response was because he brought up stuff to do with my father, something I never realised at the time.
And looking back, I can see that this is how I reacted to every male boss I worked under. Since it involves others, I won't go into detail except to say that I did not take any criticism well, I was impatient with being told what to do, and really resented the fact that so many male bosses seemed to undervalue the work of their women employees.
Headaches – Behaviour Modification
I did come across a tremendously helpful course which was run by the Psychology Department of the University of Western Australia, aimed at helping people with chronic headaches learn behaviour modification to bring their headaches until control. It was an eye-opener to me. We were all quite driven people, over-achievers, and – to my amusement – I found the dentistry profession was well represented at this course as people were so uptight and nervous around dentists that dentists got uptight and deeply stressed themselves.
It was also another eye-opener in how hard it is for people to change their ways. We had to fill in cards which showed the level of headaches each day and what painkillers we had taken. I remember the course co-ordinator being quite taken aback at the number of pills I was chucking down my throat, mainly because I was self-medicating to get through each day. One of the exercises we had to do was treat ourselves to something special that week and I had decided to get my first ever massage. I had booked with a male therapist and I was very nervous about the whole procedure. He told me to undress to a level comfortable for me and I made it to bra, knickers and petticoat. These days I'm happy to strip right off, especially if I'm having a wonderful Ka Huna massage!
The massage was blissful and I continued having them, with this therapist and then another one later on. I did find that the day after the massage I'd wake with a humdinger of a headache, a truly horrendous migraine which would lay me out for half the night and half the day. I came to realise, however, that it was all the tension I was releasing with each massage. As I started working with the behaviour management techniques we were shown at the course, the headaches gradually abated, for which – even today – I remain truly grateful.
However, and again I'm not going into details to preserve the privacy of those participating in the course with me, I did notice how people simply weren't willing to change their lives in fundamental ways to relieve the headache problem they were suffering. I was so desperate, I was willing to take on board whatever was suggested. But others made all sorts of excuses. I remember one guy boasting that he'd had lunch, as if this was an amazing occurrence. We all leaned forward to hear the delicious details, only to find him saying he'd had a ham sandwich at his office desk. Our co-ordinator looked at him, then said: "Do you service your car?" He looked puzzled but said yes. Then she asked him if he gave it petrol and oil regularly. Again he looked puzzled and said yes, but we knew where Diana was heading. She said sweetly: "Then you treat your car better than you treat yourself!"
I think it was at this time that I decided I'd throw myself into any course I was taking, regardless of how I felt about it, with the intention of working with whatever I could pick up which worked for me. When I was taking part later in an Inner Child workshop, I'd notice that when a particularly challenging session was coming up, people would fudge it and not turn up.
At this stage, I'd like to say that, if you're attending a course and you suddenly find you are making excuses to pack it in or skip a particular section, it's a sure sign that it's the very thing coming up that you're trying to avoid which you need to face up to and attend. Because sure as eggs, it'll be challenging for you but it is likely to lead to insights or changes which are fundamental to your well-being. It may be hard, it may be challenging, but I do feel the end result is really worth-while if you're truly committed to growing your life.
The massages and treatments I received when the RSI was first diagnosed were, now I look back, the first cracks in the ice castle I'd built up around my family history. I used to get a massage with a therapist who'd comment on the anger he felt in me. So I would simply respond: "Who me?" I never showed anger. It was never allowed in our family. Emotional outbursts were simply forbidden, one of those unwritten rules in our family life. I simply never saw myself as an angry person. Now I look back and see those awful migraine headaches as the tool my body used to try to release the anger and pain I had locked in my body.
After my mother died of lung cancer in 1987, I found I couldn't talk to anyone about the grief and anger I felt. People were embarrassed about a close family member dying, and shied away from any talk about losing my mum. I guess to I'd had so much experience of bottling up emotions, that I had no idea how to handle this loss. So I decided to go and get some counselling. I found a psychologist in Fremantle, went along for my first session, and I can truly say that my exchanges with this very kind, sympathetic woman were life-changing.
Lucy gave me permission to be angry about my family. It was a quite new concept to me, and I was quite overcome with guilt and shame the first time I talked about my childhood and the anger I felt about my father and the bullying and control I experienced throughout my childhood and into my 'teens until I escaped to university.
Alongside this counselling, I was also pursuing other alternative therapies, as I was find out that each seemed to peel another layer from me, like peeling an onion. I was getting a better understanding of my body but, best of all, the RSI was less intense, although it hadn't gone completely. And the migraines had abated considerably as a result of learning to modify my Type A behaviour and take a more relaxed attitude to life.
Actually, I look at all the various healing modalities I've followed and think I must sound incredibly neurotic. But when I look at the illnesses I've dealt with, overwhelmingly they seem to be structural and psychological. I think this probably reflects the years I'd spent locked down in loneliness, guilt and fear, and the way in which I tip-toed through the healing process in order to cope with what came tumbling out of the cellar where I'd, sub-consciously, locked all my pain and feeling of being so unloved.
The Seeker Within (56)
I've been absent for a while again as I've been working through quite a few emotional matters. Apart from my earlier fall and the death of my dog, Ziggy, I also found out recently that a good friend from my early days in Australia had died a while back from cancer. I found out quite by chance and I was really upset as I had such good memories of him, my time in the student political movement and the freedom I felt to be me when I moved to Australia.
I have also been dealing with how I felt after reading a report about Adverse Child Experiences (ACE) and how these affect us physically and emotionally in our adult life. I've mentioned this previously and, as I said then, I felt like I'd been punched in the guts the first time I read about this as it explained a whole heap about my weight issues and also other health challenges I've faced such as repetitive strain injury, depression and fibromyalgia.
While I've written about this in earlier posts, I talked more about circumstances and emotional effects, than the physical effects. To be honest, I don't think I could have handled this before, it's something I've shoved under the carpet or down in the cellar. But I think it's important to write about how early childhood experiences have affected me, in the hope it may be of help to others for whom my experiences resonate, particularly because there is such an upsurge in autoimmune diseases as well as fibromyalgia (which still doesn't seem to have a particular explanation for its existence, despite various stabs at diagnoses).
As I mentioned above, I felt like I was flying when I arrived in Australia. I'd felt pretty much the same sense of freedom when I was at university, no-one was controlling me and I was running my own life pretty competently, and in both instances – particularly when I'd split up with the guy I'd travelled to Australia with – I was extremely slim. I remember when I got the letter from my parents saying they were coming out for a holiday that my first response was: "Oh, god, I can never get away from them." When I met my mum and dad at Perth Airport, I sat there sneezing like the clappers, with my eyes and nose running like a sieve. I remember a little boy on a seat near more watching in amazement as I went through tissue after tissue. It was all emotional, of course, but I had no idea what was going on at the time.
In early 1976 I broke up with Jack, the guy with whom I'd travelled to Australia, and I was really on my own. I loved it. My weight dropped rapidly and, when I went back to the office where I used to work, no-one recognised me as I'd got so much slimmer. I do have to say that I in a sexually inappropriate way over the next couple of years – I went through men like they were going out of fashion – the best bit being that I could say good-bye and toddle off to my lovely unit all on my own. Again, this is one of the behaviours which can arise from adverse childhood experiences. All I can say is I'm damned lucky that I didn't contract a sexually transmitted disease, someone in the world of spirit must have been looking out for me!
And then on April 16th, 1977, I went out to meet a friend for a drink and came home with my future husband. My friend had introduced us, sparks flew, we held hands as we went for a meal with mutual friends, and Bryan came home with me, moved in that night and 38 years later we are still together. We did take a while to do the married bit – we finally tied the knot in the UK in 2004 after living there for a couple of years and getting married a few days before we returned to Australia.
Bryan and I were both very independent people, and we certainly didn't live in each other's pockets. We both followed progressive politics as he was a union activist, shop steward and safety officer. I continued a rather lunatic student activist lifestyle, even though I say it myself, until my parents emigrated to Australia in early 1978. And my weight piled on again.
Over the years I've dealt with the issues I had mainly with my father. After an incident when I was about 5'ish and got a hiding from my father over a very minor issue, now I look back, he would regularly accuse me of being a liar right through childhood or tell me "I'll put you over my knee and give you a tanning" if he thought I was misbehaving in any way. He was a real control freak. As I wrote previously, until I was around 14 and, when he pulled that trick one last time, I looked him in the eye and told him if he touched me in any way I'd walk out and they'd never see me again. It worked. I've repeated it because I think it's such an important lesson I've learned over the years – you have to stand up to a bully or they'll keep on hammering you if they think they've managed to intimidate you.
However, I really hadn't twigged that the control issues from my childhood and teenage years actually affected my health. I had a couple of events in the early 1980s – I had acute appendicitis and bled badly during the operation, spent a few days on morphine, getting blood transfusions and now have a 13 inch scar on my lower belly. A bit later I was working for a conservation organisation where we used to print an independent environmental magazine. You had to fix a metal plate onto hooks and then wind the plate onto the cylinder. Unfortunately, one day the person the other side switched on the machine as I was putting a plate onto the cylinder, my fingers were caught on the metal hooks and then fed into the machine. I ended up with two broken and badly lacerated fingers, lost the feeling at the ends of my fingers after I'd been stitched up but, luckily, finally got feeling back a few months later.
What really brought me to a grinding halt, however, was getting repetitive strain injury in my right shoulder and left arm in the mid-1980s. I ended up getting invalided out of the workforce in excruciating pain, and told I'd never work on a keyboard again. I'm going to go into the details in my next post, but it occurred to me – on reading about the ACE study – that I'd ended up tied up in knots physically as a result of being a Type A personality, tense, always doing more than I needed to, in order to be the best and get approval – the approval I never got from my father.
More on that in my next post when I'll look at all the alternative healing methods I adopted in order to manage my health challenges.
InSight (45)
I thought I was done and dusted with the Canyons of My Mind series but no, my subconscious had another surprise in store for me – a nightmare!
I've only, thankfully, had one other nightmare in my life, when a Dementor (a monstrous being in the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling) appeared and, I can assure you, I hope I never see another Dementor in my life!
I dithered about writing about this nightmare as it took a while to work out and also it has a rather unpleasant content – at least, until the end. But it seems to me it's an example of healing at a very great depth which may be encouraging to others who may experience something similar.
So here goes.
"In the dream I am back in the house where I lived as a kid, Liverpool Lawn in Ramsgate, Kent, south-east England. I go into a room where my father is asleep but he wakes up as I enter and walks threateningly towards me, a real monster. I realise he intends to rape me and I am absolutely terrified. I run out of the house, with him in relentless pursuit and it is pitch-black outside. I then run frantically down the alley way which used to run between Liverpool Lawn and Adelaide Gardens. All these houses had semi-basements and I am absolutely terrified as I run along.
Then I see a light on in one of the basements, run down the steps and burst into the house through the back door. I shut the door and find myself facing a young couple looking somewhat alarmed (as you do, I suppose when someone bursts into your house unexpectedly). I tell them my father is following me and intends to rape me, they say they'll help but then we all suddenly realise he's gone around the front of the terraced houses and is outside the front door.
The young man looks outside, says that my father now has a gun, and goes outside to confront him. However, I can't let the young man be harmed so run out and push past my father. As I run around the centre lawn and arrive at the other side, I come across people at an outside party who, when I tell them my story, advise me to tell the police who have a branch office in one of the houses on the crescent.
I run up to the police post, ring the bell and tell my story when the policeman answers the door. He tells me I'm imagining things and to go home and stop dramatising things. But then I realise I can hear my father and his parents upstairs being warmly received by the police. I am furious and enraged, rather than scared, shout at the policeman for not doing his job, and run upstairs to confront my father and my paternal grandparents."
When I woke up straight after the dream, I felt so terrified I got up and had a cup of coffee until I'd calmed down enough to return to bed and get back to sleep without worrying about the dream recurring. It's my belief that, when we have a powerful dream/nightmare which affects us deeply, it's important to find out what it's about as the dream/nightmare has significance in your life.
I must say, upfront, that in fairness to my father, I'm pretty sure that he never sexually abused me. I know there are many instances of repressed memories but it was emotional, mental and physical control which characterised my relationship with my father.
If you look at the nightmare, it divides into three: 1) running away 2) seeking refuge 3) finally deciding to stop running, stand up for myself and overcome the fear (if you are trying to analyse a dream, look at how it breaks up. You'll generally find a new section begins "And then….").
I also think that the inclusion of my grandparents – with whom I had a distant relationship once my aunt, the favourite, had a daughter and replaced me – is also about ancestral healing, perhaps again because I felt I'd been also on approval with my grandparents and discarded as soon as my cousin was born.
It seems to me, the fear and terror represents what I felt as a child with the episode which I described in an earlier post and which left me believing I was in my family on approval, so to speak, with that approval liable to be removed any time. Of course, this wasn't the true situation – this was my perspective as a child. It also represents the fact that I've been running from these feelings for a lot of my life.
I found the middle bit a bit hard to understand, until I realised that both the young man and woman were aspects of myself – the immature beings which, in my life, have been represented by my desire for approval and to be liked which, quite often, have led to me appeasing others at my own expense, fudging the truth, putting on a friendly face when I felt quite hurt by what people had said.
And finally, standing up to the police, my father and my grandparents is the position I'm in now – one where I've cleared out the old fears and childhood insecurity, and asserted my ability to be a powerful force for myself, for my creativity and for my self-confidence and self-esteem.
I should add that, since I completed writing about my childhood and since that nightmare, I am far more laid back, far less driven and far more ready to honour myself as a worthy, loveable human being who approves of and stands up for herself.
If anyone has any additional ideas about my nightmare, please feel free to contribute your thoughts, I'm more than happy to build up a collective understanding of my nightmare/dream as I feel it helps others in understanding their own dreams.
Oh, and just as an afterthought, my eating patterns have stabilised and I've started losing weight!
Winding Up! (44)
Just to wind up, as I said previously I went through my life thinking that my parents were a couple in themselves, with me on the outside. So imagine my surprise when I had a reading with a medium which turned my ideas topsy-turvy.
Doubtless there will be people who will scoff at the idea of a medium and conversations with people in spirit but, trust me, this incident came out of the blue, with no wishes for any kind of link with my parents.
I had been selling crystals at a new age fair in Victoria and it had been very quiet. A guy approached my stall and started making very accurate comments about my life so, as I was bored witless doing nothing, I trotted over to his stall and said I'd have a reading. I had no preconceived ideas, but just left the whole thing open.
The first thing the medium said was that he wanted no facts or responses from other than "yes" or "no" so that he couldn't be accused of "reading me cold" which happens with a lot of so-called mediums and Tarot readers (and don't forget I'm a Tarot reader!). His first comment was that my mum and dad had turned up, which surprised me no end as I hadn't thought of them at all. His next comment was that they weren't together, they'd gone separate ways, each to their own spiritual lineage.
Then he said my mum had told me she never loved my father. At first I misunderstood and thought she'd said she'd never loved my grandfather. But no, she said she'd never loved my father, she'd only married him under pressure from her family to get some sort of financial stability. But what she had wanted was to have her own business and be independent.
Now funnily enough, when I had an astrology reading in Boonah, the astrologer had asked me about my mother and whether she was unusual in any way. To be very honest, my relationship with my mother was very much overshadowed by my antagonistic relationship with my father. So I felt rather bewildered, although I knew that she'd been very efficient and happy running the guesthouse when we lived in Ramsgate, and always enjoyed going to work – whether it was in the grocer's shop or bakery in Sandwich, or in Debenham's when my parents moved to Canterbury (I was in university by that stage).
Later I obtained a psychological profile of myself from Liz Greene, a renowned astrologer, and was taken aback to read the following about my mother:
"Although your mother might have appeared conventional in her behaviour, and devoted to her family's needs, she is pictured in your horoscope as a strong and independent spirit, who was perhaps not as able to accept the limitations and compromises of family life as she pretended to be. Thus she suppressed a natural restlessness and a rather explosive temper which sprang from a strong desire to break free and pursue her own goals and dreams without the restrictions of marriage and motherhood."
The medium continued that my mother told him she had felt hemmed in by marriage and even more trapped when she became pregnant. And this rather validated my feeling that I wasn't a very welcome addition to the family unit.
Then came another bombshell. The medium said that my parents had considered divorce when I was in my 'teens. Now this was something which really wasn't something I thought about at all. But in my 'teens my parents had suddenly asked me what I'd do if they got a divorce. I thought they were joking, laughed and said I'd bang their heads together. Nothing more was said and it just seemed a rather puzzling anomaly over the years. Then, through the medium, my mother said she'd stayed for me. I remember thinking rather forcefully that she wasn't going to lumber me with that sort of guilt. And then the medium added that she'd been a bit more truthful and admitted it was for security too.
To say I was a bit shaken was an understatement. All my ideas of a loving couple went right out the window. And then my father came through, saying that he was lonely in the world of spirit, as lonely as he had been in life when all the people he had loved had never loved him. It sounds sad, but I remember thinking that a great deal of Dad's problems had been entirely self-generated and self-inflicted, so I didn't feel a whole lot of sympathy. The medium said Dad told him my mum had great bouts of explosive anger which she kept separate from me but directed at Dad. Dad told the medium that he was glad when Mum finally died (of lung cancer) as he thought his life would improve. But nothing had changed except for the worse. Finally the medium said he thought Dad was doing a life review.
I'm quite aware that cynics out there will be rolling their eyes and snorting about mediums and life after death, but the astounding thing for me was that the medium sought no information, provided me with details which confirmed a lot of what he transmitted to me and, in the final analysis, cleared up a lot of things which had puzzled me over the years but which hadn't really bothered me enough to explore in greater detail. The unexpected information about my parents' marriage came right out of left field and left me quite shaken and very surprised.
There's another factor in my feeling on the outside in my mother's and father's relationship. Again in astrology, and without going into great boring detail, I have Pluto and Saturn very close together in Leo in the ninth house, which is to do with groups, societies, friends, and so on. These two planets cuddled up actually bring up a lot of hidden fears, suspicions and neuroses for me to do with gatherings of people, relationships, groups and so on. So I would bring these hidden fears into my relationship with my mother and father, particularly after my mother failed to offer me any consolation after the hiding I got from my father when I was young, which I mentioned in an earlier post.
I remember my mother saying once that she didn't think I was emotional, but in fact I used to hide my emotions because of the dysfunctional relationship with my father. I didn't allow one chink in my armour as I knew he would sense it and fire a few verbal bullets and arrows at me. In fact, I'm very emotional – I cry at the drop of a hat at sad movies; weep at war memorial ceremonies; mourn over animals affected by cruelty; get weepy at children in refugee camps and other images of cruelty. But I generally keep this to myself.
Actually, to be very honest, I sometimes think I must have seemed like the cuckoo in the nest to my parents. I can't have been an easy child as I was quite secretive, withdrawn and quiet. I did have a few childhood friends but lost them when I was transferred to a Catholic convent when I was six while my friends stayed in a state school. And at the Convent I never made any good friends, having arrived much later than others in my year. The one girl I thought had been a good friend turned out to be otherwise when her sister told me she used to laugh at me – perhaps confirming again my fears about groups and friends.
What I do cherish, however, was what the medium passed on to me from my mother: "You are my delight and my reason for living."
And that is finally "it", the end, of this review of family relationships. I am thankful for the kidney infection which helped release all the stuff bottled up inside me and extend my grateful thanks to the terrific physician author of the blog post which, unknowingly, sparked all this off, Behind the White Coat.
Ancestral Healing (43)
As you know from an earlier post, it was reading about the long-term effects on your brain as a child in the Adverse Child Experiences (ACE) report which sparked off this current run of posts. I felt that the kidney infection I suddenly experienced was a physical way of shifting the shit I'd felt since childhood. I also felt – and still feel – that emotions are not as easy to release as some think.
It's my view that adverse emotional responses get buried in the body's emotional memories which the body then draws upon as a defence mechanism and is very reluctant to ditch. Of course, I can't prove this but if you look at the number of people who have weight problems and who also have dysfunctional childhoods in one way or another, there's something that goes on in the body which is so far unrecognised.
After all, if weight loss were simply a matter of less calories, more exercise, being overweight would be easy to achieve. But weight has many positive features for people – protection, comfort, solace, and so on. Food has many properties beyond simply filling your belly. It has emotional overtones, comfort qualities, helps squash down grief, anger, feelings of powerlessness and so on. And in a society where spirit and soul are drowned out by consumption, fast lives, constant social media addiction, stress and so on, it's not surprising so many people are weighty
It's why I've spent time researching my family background to understand where my own weight and alcohol problems come from. Apart from my father's own alcoholism, I can remember him mentioning that his father had been a drunk, until the time he staggered home along the tram lines and realised, when he was sober, that he was lucky not to have been mown down by a tram. He took "the Pledge" which was a formal promise to stop drinking. Indeed he never took another drop of alcohol.
As for me, apart from the ancestral inheritance of alcoholism, the first time I saw an astrologer, she coughed gently, went a bit pink, and then said: "I hope you're not offended by my asking this, but do you have drug problems?" I was quite startled, how did she know I had alcohol problems? I know now that the position of Neptune, in the first house and – in my case – is a classic sign for addiction problems of any kind.
Australia was a problem drinker's delight when I first arrived here. Alcohol was freely available and cheap. Grog was pretty much evident at all social events. And my drinking took off like a rocket. It ricocheted around for quite a few decades until I broke my leg and ankle in Queensland in 1996 and gave it up. I remember talking to an alcohol and drug counsellor when Dad was in hospital who said that she knew I'd give up, but she could see Dad wouldn't. And sure as eggs, he'd been out of hospital for about five weeks when he went back on the grog.
One of the puzzles in my life was solved when I saw a psychologist about my alcohol problems. He listened and then said something which really surprised me: "I think you lack self-confidence and have very low self-esteem". Well, I had hidden all that under a veneer of confidence but his words hit home. It was another piece in my life puzzle, realising that my father had continually chipped away at my self-confidence which had led to bouts of depression, alcohol abuse and weight problems.
I decided when I began writing about my life that I would be absolutely honest and not present an airbrushed version of myself. So I haven't stayed off the grog, but it comes and goes, so to speak, and I'm very careful and judicious if I feel like a drink .It simply doesn't fill my life the way it used to. I have a highly productive, creative life and I won't allow alcohol to spoil that in any way. I've come to understand my demons, I've been through the dark night of the soul when we were living in Queensland, I've overcome depression, lack of self-confidence and lost my abiding need for approval, something I never got from my father.
Writing out all my demons this week has helped me dig into depths I hadn't realised existed and which I can now release since they're out in the light of day.
I'm a digital artist – holding my art exhibition recently, Heart'n'Art, which was a retrospective of all my art from 1996-2014 (acrylic, mandala, vision board, digital art, shamanic art) gave me a huge lift as I saw all my creativity on the walls in front of me. I'm an abundant writer. I've learned to stop criticising myself. I have a wonderful, loving, kind husband. I have marvellous friends. And I have a daughter as my husband's eldest daughter, Dee, has adopted me as her mum. So I'm also a grandmother and great-grandmother.
I think I've done okay!
Canyons of My Mind – Alcoholism (42a)
Added to the heritage of domestic violence was the fact that, most of my life, Dad was a dry drunk who never dealt with his anger and resentment. There was a photo of my dad when I was a kid and he was stuffing around on the beach laughing. I often wondered what turned this laughing young man into the taciturn, grumpy, miserable man he became as he got older.
I never realised when I was young that Dad had an alcohol problem because we only had alcohol in the house at Christmas and everyone drank in moderation. Mum told me, when she was out on holiday in early 1975, that after getting sacked from his own company, Dad started drinking a bottle of whiskey a day, to the point where she was close to leaving him. I suppose things cleared up as they were still together when they came on holiday and remained together until Mum died in 1987.
But when we were living in Queensland Dad told me once that, when he was in the Navy, he heard some Wrens talking about a Petty Office who was a real drunk and realised they were talking about him. He told me it shook him so much he he'd never been drunk since, which was quite ironic as he'd already knocked back a few glasses of whiskey/brandy/rum or whatever he was drinking at the time, and his voice was already slurred in the late morning.
Once my mum died, Dad's slide into rampant alcoholism accelerated. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I never went to see him in the afternoon as he'd be drunk as a skunk. If I phoned, his voice would be slurred and I couldn't make sense of what he was saying. In Queensland, his life became chaotic. His house was filthy, he'd sit in his chair and smoke, but flicked the ash to the ground so a thick layer of ash lay around on the carpet. How he never set fire to his place is beyond me. His kitchen floor was covered in ingrained grease and dirt. And he became more and more erratic.
Finally he blacked out early one morning, phoned us to tell us he'd called an ambulance and my husband, Bryan, drove to his house to give a helping hand.It turned out Dad had broken a couple of ribs and fractured a couple of vertebrae in his fall. When Dad entered the local hospital I told them Dad was an alcoholic, so they gave him small doses of alcohol each day to minimise withdrawal effects. Unfortunately, he got a chest infection, had to take antibiotics and so couldn't have alcohol. He got the D.T.'s, kept falling out of bed, told me seriously about the possums that were climbing over a fellow patient's bed, got violent and eventually was heavily medicated.
I won't go into any more gory details, but one thing I do want to say. Alcoholics are charmers, don't believe a word they say, concentrate on your own survival, don't get dragged down into their dysfunctional lives. My father charmed everyone he met. He was full of promises about what he was going to do when he got out of hospital – fishing, gardening, etc., – and suckered everyone, including his social worker. If Bryan hadn't been with me, knew the truth of how my father treated me and how he behaved, and supported me through all the chaos, I would have thought I was either going mad or already insane.
No-one believed me when I told him what life was like with my father and at one stage, when I was trying to sort out power of attorney, I was virtually accused of being after his money. He would sober up in hospital, a psychiatrist would see him and pronounce him fit, and out he'd come into mainstream life again to continue his boozing and aggro. Eventually he had several strokes which left him with virtually unintelligible speech and confined to a wheelchair. Luckily for him he was offered a place in a first-class nursing home with his own en-suite. He was able to have a small amount of alcohol each day but eventually got to weak to handle the grog.
We moved to the UK in 2002 for my sanity and my health and because Bryan wanted to be closer to his kids, stayed on the west coast when we returned to Australia in 2004 in order not to become embroiled in Dad's affairs again, and finally moved to northern New South Wales when he entered a nursing home. When we got to the nursing home for the first time, the nurses told me he was eager to see me. And true to form, Dad was only eager because he wanted me to take him out of the nursing home and take care of him. By that stage, I had got the determination to say no, and to care for myself, something that had, in earlier years, been sadly lacking in me.
I got a phone call at 5am one morning to say that my father was likely dying as he'd had a turn for the worse. We lived about three hours from his nursing home and got there in time to say good-bye. I sat and gave Reiki to dad, finally kissing him on the cheek as I left. In my grief, I left my walking stick behind and Bryan went to get it. He said Dad opened his eyes as he walked in, Bryan said: "Don't worry, I'll take care of her". And with that Dad closed his eyes and passed away a couple of hours later.
On the way north to Brisbane, we drove through great clouds of butterflies which an Aboriginal friend told me later was a sign of an easy passing. Dad had been terrified of dying but his eventual death was calm, peaceful and full of ease. I was glad for him that he was finally at peace and out of this mortal coil where he'd been so unhappy.
I remember the daughter of a friend shaking off her father when he went to hug her, and it was so hard to stand back and not say to her: "You are so lucky. Your dad loves you, he's affectionate, he hugs you. Don't whistle it down the wind". I have met many, many people with wise, wonderful, kind, loving fathers and I simply want to let them know too how lucky they are. Treasure your father. Sort out any differences, if that's possible, and remember that life is a lottery – you don't know when someone is going to die, so make the best of ever loving moment you have with them. Count your blessings.
To those who are in dysfunctional family relationships, I simply say that you are worth more. Love and care for yourself because you have something unique to offer the world. Don't let the miserable, the selfish, the violent, the jealous, the drug- or alcohol-addicted drag you down. Let them go. These days there is more openness and awareness of family problems. As I mentioned earlier, the ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) study has raised awareness of how challenges in childhood can have long-term effects. Surround yourself with loving, supportive people, whether friends or advisors or health/mental professionals, and build yourself a new family if you need to with friends of your own choosing.
Remember – shine your light. You are not the Pied Piper of the Universe. Let others work out how to shine their light and don't let them dim yours.
Canyons of My Mind – Domestic Violence (42)
There are two backdrops to the situation in my home as a child, teenager and adult. The first is the underlying effect of domestic violence in my mother's family. I adored my maternal grandparents because I knew, when I stayed with them, I was loved unconditionally. I'd spend hours wandering on my own in the big garden, the fields beyond the garden, and the small copse just below the house beside us which was the last along the lane. This was Blackheath where a bit of paradise was tucked away down this lane and I used to step outside the back gate, listen to the wood pigeons cooing and feel absolutely happy in my solitude and among nature.
So it was a heck of a shock when my mum told me, when she was on holiday in Australia in early 1975, that my grandfather used to beat my grandmother when my mum, brother and sister were kids, as he was a sweet old man who spoiled me no end. Mum said the kids used to run when he was in a rage to get away from his violence but my grandmother copped it the worst. I guess they must have made their peace in their middle and old age as they seemed happy together as I was growing up.
My mum did think that my grandmother had intended shooting through to her mother in West Hartlepool, in the north-east of England, but changed her mind when mum said something to her – what it was is lost in the midst of time. But the effects passed down generations. My uncle beat my aunt and he also came close to beating my cousin so hard he could have inflicted serious injury had my father not stopped in. My aunt married a violent man – again there was some sort of violence between my aunt and uncle when they were staying with us, I remember the shouting and yelling, and again my father intervened with my aunt and uncle leaving the next day.
I guess my mother felt safe with my father as he didn't indulge in physical violence. Instead he resorted to emotional abuse because if Mum crossed him in any way, he wouldn't talk to her for a couple of weeks, just sent her to Coventry. I never realised this as they were good at keeping up a front at home, but she told me later when they'd emigrated to Australia in 1978 after I'd moved there in 1972.
As for me, Dad was a control freak as far as my whereabouts where concerned. I was kept close to home as a kid with curfews which earned me a big scolding if I came home a bit too late. Luckily Dad had no idea of how far I used to roam and the escapades I used to get up to once I was out of sight of our home. He used to try to steam roller me if I expressed opinions but, luckily for me, I found the courage to argue back. I know it's made me very stubborn in my opinions, mainly because I felt so threatened by his overbearing behaviour. I've never handled bosses well either because anyone telling me what to do instantly puts my back up and I head out to do the opposite!
Dad was, to some extent, a psychic as he used to know what upset me and he'd go for my underbelly with his words. I remember once, after Mum had died, that he told me how she'd worried about my weight. It hurt me no end and I caught a look of malicious glee on Dad's face as he knew he'd managed to stick the knife in and turn it. He'd praise other people around him knowing it hurt me that he never once had a good word for me. In all our life, he never hugged me or told he me loved me, and never gave me praise or approval. The only photo we ever had together was when he was finally in a nursing home, and the closest contact we had was when we had linked arms at my mother's funeral and he squeezed my arm as her coffin began to roll behind the screen after the funeral service.
The Human Concertina (34)
The other morning
There was a cockroach,
A big black shiny one,
trapped in the face of
my scales.
As it waved its feelers back
at my looming face
trying to see if I was
or thinner
(but never just right),
I thought it made a lot
of sense.
For I'm a lousy housewife:
dusting, sweeping, what a waste of
And I'm a hopeless dieter,
fat and thin by turns.
So the cockroach in my scales
reflected both failures
What a way to start the day!
Over the years my weight has fluctuated wildly from slim to fat, so much so that I've felt like a human accordion at times, going in and out at the speed of light. I can't say I've been conscious of whether I've been slim or fat because, regardless of my size, I was never aware of gaining or losing weight (apart from buying different dress sizes!).
I know many of my weight issues have been emotional, but also I've done a lot of reading about diets, weight, BMI, etc., because when I was young the hysteria around obesity and low-fat diets just didn't exist. I do know that my weight has exercised the minds of far more people than it has mine. I've lost track of the times I've heard people say: "But you don't eat a lot" and realised they've been scrutinising what I eat which gets right up my nose. It's no-one's business but mine what I eat, keep your nose out of my plate! As I said in my previous post, I'm also aware that when I walk into a doctor's surgery their eyes light up as they order tests for diabetes, blood pressure and cholesterol and then look somewhat taken aback by results well in the healthy range.
I was also, decades ago, stupid enough to agree to go to a fat farm to lose weight when it was suggested by the organisation I worked for,and I really regret it. I lost 14 lbs in one week, with a mainly fruit juice diet, but of course, when I got back to the real world, the weight boomeranged back and then some. And it started me on a bit of a habit of fasting, then eating, and so on, which really has stuffed my body's metabolism. I should have had the guts to tell them to poke their fat farm where the sun don't shine, and that's precisely what I would do today.
Anyway, onwards and upwards with this post about weight, death and the whole damned thing.
The day after I started working on this post – about weight and my mother's death – I woke with excruciating sciatic pain in my hip and leg. It took until the next evening to realise that this was my physical response to approaching these subjects – matters of life and death which obviously have a great emotional and physical impact on me.
As soon as I twigged why the pain had exploded in my hip, it abated considerably. But I have been doing all sorts of odd jobs since then to avoid getting on with this post. So I have finally glued myself to my seat and here goes!
I weighed myself the night before I had the cast removed when I broke my leg and ankle in 1996 and then when I got home – 6lbs disappeared overnight, yeay! In the six weeks I'd been immobile, unbelievably I'd lost 14lbs, much to my surprise. It was as if the shock of the fall galvanised my body into detoxing all of its own accord.
From these comments and the intro you'll probably guess that I have had some challenges with weight. And I'd probably be a weird woman if I hadn't, given the obsession with thinness and fatness in today's Western society.
In my childhood I was what you then called "chubby" but no-one banged on about weight and obesity as they do nowadays. In those days it was accepted that kids could be chubby but they'd lose this puppy fat once they hit puberty and started growing into adulthood.
The first time I became aware of perhaps being a bit weighty was when I stayed with my German penfriend in 1965. She was absolutely gorgeous and had a terrific, slim figure. Beside her I felt large and clumsy and I remember we each weighed ourselves but, as it was in kilograms, I had no idea what it meant. I do know that she and her mother exclaimed at my weight. When my cousin and his male friend visited us while they were in holiday in Germany, they only had eyes for my pen-friend and I felt fat, awkward and lonely. For the first time I became self-conscious about my figure.
I do know now that I ate because it was comfort food in a family where I felt on the outer. I closely associated food with being loved by my parents, particularly if my mum and I shared special food which Dad didn't like, and we'd have this when he was doing overtime – mushrooms on toast (mushrooms were a luxury when I was a kid) and soft cod's roe on toast (another luxury). I can also look back now and see that carrying extra weight was protective for me. My father was a bully, a control freak and he used to browbeat me if I voiced my own opinions. We'd go at it hammer and tongs until my mother would intervene to try to calm things down as she hated the discord.
At University I guess I remained somewhat podgy in my first year. I was in student accommodation and I used to drink a very hot cup of black coffee prior to meals in the refectory. The idea was to dampen my appetite but it wasn't particularly successful, particularly if they dished up Queen of Puddings for dessert. It was my favourite and I'd eat my own portion as well as the portions of anyone who didn't want their serving! I guess I really wasn't overly bothered about my weight, just felt a sense of dissatisfaction which I never really pinned down.
The first time I really lost weight and became very slim was when I was working abroad during my third year at University. I was living in Stuttgart and started work at 7.30. We had a break around 8.30 and I'd get a roll with cold meat for breakfast. At lunchtime, we had a subsidised meal in the staff canteen but as very little of the food appealed to me, I had very small lunches. And in the evening, when I cooked for myself, I also didn't eat much as it's not much fun eating on your own.
I was, however, very happy at work as I made friends with a lovely Hungarian lady, Frau Kiss, a Hungarian refugee who'd settled in Stuttgart. She helped me in lots of little ways which made life more pleasant. Eventually I also met some really nice girls in the women's hostel where I was living. When I first arrived in Stuttgart I lived in my own unit on the ground floor and it was quite lonely. Then I was moved to the basement area where I shared a room with a Finnish lass. She was a real raver and was always out in the evenings so I started leaving the light on in the small sink area in our room. She was quite taken aback at this as apparently the previous German girl had left the room pitch black and then complained when Marjia-Liisa made a noise trying to get ready for bed in the dark. But my little act of helpfulness broke the ice between us and from then on we got on like a house on fire.
Then a couple of English girls arrived from universities in the UK, they got stuck in the basement area like me, so we all got together. We were finally joined by Barbara, a German girl, who had a great sense of humour and adventure. And we certainly got up to all sorts of adventures between us, quite innocent now when I look back. But we were always laughing and having a good time together.
We went to the Christkindlmarkt in Stuttgart which was wonderful although bitterly cold. We visited the cinema at the American base nearby where we parked Barbara's car and found it dwarfed by the huge American yank-tanks lined up in front of the cinema. We drove to Ulm to climb the steeple of the Ulm Minster, the tallest church in the world with 768 steps. It's often called Ulm Cathedral but is actually a Minster as it has never been the seat of a bishop. We climbed up to the top where we found beautiful views over Ulm and the surrounding countryside, climbed down okay but when we got outside, our legs were like jelly and we ended up flopping on the floor laughing our heads off. I stayed at Barbara's parent's house one weekend, her folks were incredibly hospitable, and we also visited Rothenburg-ob-der-Taube which is a wonderful, medieval town.
We girls had boozy sessions in our rooms, confident we'd hidden all signs of the mayhem until we'd get home and realise our rooms smelled like pub bars, an empty wine glass or two stood on the mantelpiece and the sour-faced women running the hostel would greet us with icy faces!
One night Barbara introduced us to Schnapps, I think it might have been Goldwasser, which we English girls imbibed with gusto. She told us to skol it down it which we did and all promptly got drunk as skunks as none of us drank much at all. We were staggering everywhere, and I remember waking up with an appalling hangover. Barbara thought it was hilarious as we British girls sat there, head in hands, moaning, until she frogmarched us one by one to the restroom and stuck us in a cold shower!
I didn't realise that, in this new lifestyle in Germany, I'd lost so much weight until I returned home for the Christmas holidays. My parents both commented on how much slimmer I was, and so did my boyfriend, but I didn't see it in myself at all. I do know that when I returned to university in the fourth year, after my third year abroad, many people commented on the remarkable change in my appearance although, once again, I hadn't realised how much weight I'd lost, it just sort of happened.
Much the same sort of weight loss happened when I worked on a kibbutz in Israel in March 1972, prior to travelling to Australia. I did physical work on my feet all the time, and the weight dropped off. I do know that unless I'm really active, it's hard for me to lose weight, even more so now I have mobility challenges.
I realised much later down the track that my time overseas in my third year at university was really the first time I was away from anyone's influence. I was pretty much on my own, and I lost weight because I didn't need it to protect myself from my father's bullying ways and the fact that I extended that to being subconsciously fearful of any relationships I had with the opposite sex. I loved being independent both at university and in Germany and France where I also spent six months.
Because I have so many air signs, nine in astrology, I have always been in my head and thinking, thinking, thinking. My conversations start: "I think….." or "I've been thinking….." (and generally my husband looks nervous because he says this usually means hammers and nails somewhere in the house), or I say, if people do rash things: "Why don't people THINK". Occasionally I look down and remember I've got a body attached to my head and say in surprise: "Oh, hello, body, still hanging around are you, thanks very much, I appreciate it."
I started getting some idea of why I used food as a substitute for love and weight as protection when I saw a psychologist after Mum died. The thinner my mother got as the cancer spread, the fatter I got as if in some way I could protect myself, I think, on two fronts: from the fear of death myself if I got fat and from the grief I was experiencing as Mum came closer and closer to death. Seeing the psychologist after mum died, to get help from the loneliness and grief I felt, also opened a can of worms – mum no longer stood between me and my father as the peace-maker, we had to face each other, and our relationship got rocky to say the least!
Fibro Follies – 2 (27)
I've had a long break from writing because I've been hit with a rather bad dose of sciatic pain which has meant sleepless nights and some discombobulated days as a result. A while back I went to an all-day workshop with quite uncomfortable chairs and the result was that health-wise it really knocked me sideways.
However, in the intervening period I had an experience which I found provided rather a good lesson in coping with fibromyalgia and its effects.
I learned to say no!
Aha! Perhaps that's one of the big lessons when we get fibromyalgia – learning to tune into our bodies, listen to what all our cells and bits of pieces tucked away under our skin feel like, and acting in harmony with our body rather than trying to run out lives strictly from our heads. And finding the inner strength to say "no" when we need to look after ourselves and not put everyone else first.
Okay, it's a bit simplistic, I admit, as fibromyalgia is multi-faceted, acts differently in each individual and really is quite hard to pin down in terms of specific healing aspects. It seems to vary from person to person. But I was looking at a blog recently, written by a fibro sufferer, and it was like looking at myself many years ago: angry, furious at my body letting me down, straining against the bit to get active again, still over-doing things, railing against the world, refusing to listen to my body and to its message
I felt exhausted reading the blog and realised how far I'd come in working out how to co-exist with what I now consider a learning tool for my body.
I also created this piece of digital art to illustrate what fibromyalgia feels like: the blackness when you feel despair; the flashes of light which represent the chaos of this health challenge because you never know what it's going to dish up next; the red which signifies the pain; the green which represents the peace you can sometimes feel with fibro; and the blue to signify the need to tune into your body and communicate with it. Because, as I said in my last post, trying to push through fibro is pretty damned useless, all that will happen is that you'll be flat on your back and probably worse off than before.
All these things of course I've learned over 15-odd years of living with fibromyalgia. Nevertheless, I still get tempted into trying to do more than I can. A while back, I was asked to take part in a mind, body, spirit show in Kyrenia. The idea was to take my computer and printer along, create individual artwork for visitors, and do readings. I quite fancied doing this, but deep down I knew really it's beyond me physically. Nevertheless, I've been pummeling my brain to get the pieces together – to be able to travel to the exhibition and set up, cope with leaving the four dogs alone for a long time in case they make a noise and upset the neighbours, worrying about whether we could handle the financial costs, and whether this was an appropriate step for me.
Truth to tell, as I said above, I knew deep within that I should say no. But I'm a Libran, I hate saying no when people ask me to do something. And if I'm really honest, the good old ego preened itself at being asked to take part and at the idea of going and creating art.
In the end, I decided to do a Tarot reading for myself. The spread was follows:
What's the energy around the exhibition? A: The Moon
This reflected the fact that I felt a deep unease about taking part in the exhibition, that there were underlying features I felt were hidden, and I felt some sort of deception but was uncertain what it involved. In the event, I showed the card to my husband – he who scorns the Tarot – who said immediately: "You're deceiving yourself about your ability to take part". Ho-ho, spot on!
The next question: What would be the result of taking part? A: Five of Coins
Hmmm, pretty hard to read this one, eh? Difficulties, poverty, and ill-health.
Now the cynical among you may think the Tarot is a heap of old cobblers but – hang on! I repeated this reading three times, shuffling the cards each time, and waddyaknow? the same cards came out every time!
Message received, loud and clear. Don't take part. Say no. Which I did and it was very hard. It was, however, made all the easier because I had a terrible night with sciatic pain, the day before I had to make a final decision, as if my body was waging guerilla warfare against my taking part in the expo. But having made the decision, I felt like a load had gone from my shoulders, I felt profoundly I'd made the right decision, and my body felt all the lighter and more cheerful for it.
So to wind up, the next day I drew another card: what is the result of my decision not to take part in the exhibition? And the result: The Wheel of Fortune. This is one of the very positive cards in the Tarot pack, and it's part of the Major Arcana which signifies times of great significance or importance in your life. It means a fortunate turn in circumstances which I think was a great confirmation I'd made the right decision.
I don't know the ins and outs of people who have fibromyalgia as I do. My own experience has been, however, that I have had to slow down. I cannot take life at top speed as I used to. I have to tune into my body to see what's going on from day to day.
I appreciate people who kindly offer supportive advice – whether it's nutritional or to suggest certain therapies. I do know I get fed up with people who make instant diagnoses of fibro, how you can get better and what the underlying causes are. It's particularly difficult when you get someone into metaphysical analysis of illness who tell you all about your wrong thinking, your crappy attitude and how, if you think the right way, the fibro will disappear overnight.
I happen to know my own body now, I have tried various therapies which have improved my health and helped me cope better. Considering what I was like in Boonah, I am heaps better. But I know my own body, I know what it can and can't handle, I happen to think illness and disease are very complex and sometimes they're a mystery which can be frustrating as we live in a scientific society which wants logical answers and cures.
For me, most importantly, you need to decide what brings heart and soul into your life and live your life with passion. Passion doesn't necessarily mean running around doing lots of things or being hyper-active. It means working out what really makes you happy in life, what creates ease for your body rather than disease, and what really lifts your heart rather than drags you down. And, of course, only you know the answer.
Nor does the answer drop into your hot little hands like manna from heaven. It takes time to work it all out and it's why I'm really rather grateful to the Fibro Follies because working through all the challenges has finally led me to focus on digital art and the immense creative pleasure it brings my own heart and soul.
I make the above point about lessons taking a long time to learn because back in Boonah, I found it very, very hard not to be running around like a cut snake doing the things I loved: teaching, working with crystals, going to health expos or taking part in markets. And, of course, there was the huge question mark of my father living beside us even though I had no direct contact with him. I did have feedback via the terrific social worker who was helping Dad. But even so, he suckered her like he suckered so many people and it was hard to sit back and stay detached.
Finally we came to the conclusion that our time in Boonah was over. Bryan wanted to be closer to his family and I wanted to get away from Dad's alcoholic antics. So we decided to return to the UK. I rang Dad's social worker and told her what we'd decided. She told Dad we were thinking of returning to the UK and his response was: "They're not going anywhere. They're waiting for me to die to get my money". So then she had to tell him we weren't thinking about it, we had decided.
I think it must have been a hell of a shock for Dad as I'd always, in one way or another, been there for him. So one day I saw him on his verandah and half-waved, whereupon he waved back and obviously wanted some contact. So at Easter 2002, I went up to see him, the door was open but I refused to enter until he specifically invited me in. And when I'd sat down, my father was polite, respectful and obviously pleased to be back in contact.
Nevertheless, I refused to put my life on hold for my father as he was still boozing like the clappers, his house was filthy and he still was leading a chaotic lifestyle. So we put the house up for sale. It took a while but when it did sell, it was as if everything fell into place as the buyers were really pleasant and helpful. We sold for cash all the antique furniture I'd inherited from Dad when Mum died. This paid for the air fares to Perth and then to Manchester, in the north of England where Bryan's relatives lived.
Leaving my father on his own was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It really broke my heart when we got up early in the morning we left and drove away. I couldn't look at my dad's house or our house and, when the jet took off from Brisbane Airport, I just cried my eyes out.
We flew back to Perth with Rosie and to spend time with our friends before leaving Australia for what we thought would be the last time. We kennelled Rosie just before we flew to Manchester as she had a week or so to wait for a flight back to the UK.
And on October 12th,2002, just after the Bali bombings, we walked down the gangway onto our flight to Manchester. As we walked towards the plane, I felt another great surge of grief and guilt that I was leaving my father on his own and saying goodbye to such good friends, and burst into tears. Bryan hugged me and said he'd be wondering when it would hit me. So as we taxied down the runway for our new life in the UK, my last view of Australia was blurred with tears, a hazy view very reminiscent of the view of Australia on the horizon as the cruise ship on which I arrived in this beloved country in 1972 sailed ever closer to Fremantle, the port of Perth in Western Australia.


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Department of Chinese, Translation and Linguistics
Research Seminar
Single Women and Marriage in Japan
Presented by
Dr. Lynne Nakano
Head, Department of Japanese Studies
The Chinese University of Hong Kong
Date: 26 March 2010, FridayTime: 12:30 - 2:00 pmVenue: P4903 (4/F, Purple Zone), Academic Building, CityU
Language: English
Women in Japan are marrying ever later in life. Approximately 25% of women between the ages of 30 to 34 were unmarried according to the latest Japanese census. Until recently it was assumed that these women were merely delaying marriage and that they would eventually find meaning in life by marrying and caring for a family. As these women reach their thirties and forties, however, it is becoming apparent that significant numbers of women will remain single for much of their lives if not their entire lives. This talk explores how these unmarried women view their lives. What do they value and how do they create relationships of intimacy and security outside of families? The talk will also compare the experiences of women in Tokyo with women in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
Lynne Nakano is Head and Associate Professor in the Department of Japanese Studies, the Chinese University of Hong Kong. Her current research explores the lives of unmarried women in Hong Kong, Tokyo and Shanghai. Nakano received her Ph.D. from Yale University in anthropology and is author of the book, Community Volunteers in Japan: Everyday Stories of Social Change (2005).
~ All Are Welcome~
Enquiry: email@example.com

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Entry posted by Bosun ·
647 views
I've decided to start a Blog. I will be sharing our RV adventures in the near future. As a River Towboat Captain I work a month on, month off schedule. We will be headed to Pelicans Roost Campground at Mayport Naval base after Christmas for a week.
I have a few maintenance items to knock out before departing our home in South Carolina for Florida. I do all maintenance and repairs to the Motor home myself (so far). I find that Motor homes are very similar to large boats that I work on with all the same basic systems on board.
So, stay tuned as I chronicle our trips!


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Vacancies at Owens and Xley Consults for Customer Service Managers
Owens and Xley is a Small Business Advisory and Consulting Company in Lagos, Nigeria. Our services include of Small Business Startup and Set up, Business Plan preparation, Business Process Design and Business Strategy Formulation.
We know the role good planning plays in any business and its associated costs; and the initial capital challenges faced by a small business which is why we have developed solutions which ensure that small business owners have access to technical skills but at a fraction of the cost.
We are recruiting to fill the position below:
We know the role good planning plays in any business and its associated costs; and the initial capital challenges faced by a small business which is why we have developed solutions which ensure that small business owners have access to technical skills but at a fraction of the cost.
We are recruiting to fill the position below:
Job Title: Customer Service Manager
Location: Lagos
Function of the Role
Location: Lagos
Function of the Role
- The customer service manager is responsible for the day to day running of the store.
- She/he must ensure that the store is running smoothly and efficiently, staffs are properly assigned duties based on their areas of expertise and customers are satisfied.
Key Responsibilities
- Welcome and assist customers in choosing their service
- Explain the outcomes of service offering to customers
- Ensure that staff understands customer's request
- Promote the company products
- Manage the company's social media pages
- Organize staff schedules including home service
- Assist in selecting and recommending new inventory
- Manage the store supplies to minimize waste
- Oversee booking of service appointments to avoid scheduling conflict
- Work with staff to meet sales targets
- Enforce work standards and ensure compliance
- Handle all customer complaints and resolve issues
- Ensure that all staff are properly trained
- Create and maintain payroll and expense reports for the owner
- Manage employees performance
- Recommend and justify need for additional staff
- Oversee the appearance of the store
- Liaise with regulatory bodies
- Keep records and receipts
- Assist staff in performing their duties especially when the store is busy
- Regularly check and maintain the store equipment.
Educational Qualification:
Educational Qualification:
- Candidates should possess at least a B.Sc in any relevant field.
- 2 Years experience
Skills and Abilities:
- Exceptional customer care skills
- Strong interpersonal skills
- Able to use initiative in taking decisions
- Ability to work calmly under extreme pressure
- Excellent knowledge of the beauty industry
- Excellent cash handling skills
- Great attention to details
- Exceptional organizational skills including record keeping
- Strong time management skills
- Good written and verbal communication skills
- Must be able to prepare management reports and correspondence
Personal Attributes:
- Have a deep desire to work in the beauty industry
- Very sociable
- Very social media savvy and knowledgeable of current trends
- Ability to work well with others and influence subordinates to work
- Excellent written and verbal communication skills
- Ability to work flexibly and under initiative to achieve set objectives
- Open to challenges.
Work Environment:
- Work in the store.
Reporting Relationships:
- Customer Service manager will report to the business owner.
How to Apply
Interested and qualified candidates should send their Application letters and CV's to: firstname.lastname@example.com
Deadline: 10th August, 2017.
Like us on Facebook and also Click here to get latest jobs in your inbox everyday!


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Display a Slider Revolution for your 404 Error pages
AddOns Requirements
404 Not Found is a Premium AddOn that requires Purchase Code Registration and Activation.
To get started, Install and Activate the AddOn from the plugin's main admin page
And then activate the Particles AddOn as it is a prerequisite for the "404 Error Page" template that we will install next.
Next, import the "404 Error Page" template from the Template Library
All Sliders are Compatible
And then refresh the page head back into the AddOns Modal to apply the template to the AddOn and configure its settings.
1. 404 Content
Choose if the 404 Page Content should come from a Slider or from the content of one of your website's pages.
2. Slider
Select the "404 Error Page" template that was imported via the instructions above.
3. Page Title
The title to use for the page's <title> tag inside its HTML. This will show up as the title in the browser's window/tab.


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- Adrienne Rich
- Albert Camus
- Alexander Pushkin
- Aly Evans
- Anna de Noailles
- Cecil Day-Lewis
- Christina G Rossetti
- Constantine P. Cavafy
- Cyril Ogden Wakefield-Harrey, C.M.G.
- Dante Alighieri
- David Scanlon
- David Scanlon (Translations)
- Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
- Fernando Pessoa
- Foolish Poet (Musings)
- Giacomo Leopardi
- James Elroy Flecker
- Joe Randolph 'J.R.' Ackerley
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- John Keats
- João da Cruz e Sousa
- Louis MacNeice
- Mahadevi Varma
- Matthew Parris
- Miss Wizbob
- Pablo Neruda
- Parul Singhal
- Parul Singhal (Translations)
- Paul Valéry
- Poetry
- Prose
- Quotations
- Rainer Maria Rilke
- Rainer Maria Rilke (Translations)
- Rhidian Brook
- Rudyard Kipling
- Sappho
- Seamus Heaney
- Simon Armitage
- Sophie Hannah
- Spoken Word
- Translation
- Uncategorized
- W.B. Yeats
- Walt Whitman
Writing Themes
- Alive
- Beauty
- Care
- Change
- Continuity
- Conversation
- Courage
- Creativity
- Dream
- Family
- Feedback
- Freedom
- Friendship
- Grief
- Happiness
- Honesty
- Hope
- Joy
- Langauge
- Learning
- Leaving
- Life
- Listening
- Loneliness
- Love
- Marriage
- Motivation
- Muse
- Nature
- Openness
- Passion
- Poetry
- Poets
- Reality
- Reflection
- Resilience
- Science
- Seeing
- Silence
- Thinking
- Truth
- Wisdom
- Words
- Work
- Writing
Poets (Friends)
- Constantine Petrou Cavafy The Cavafy Archive website was created by the Center for Neo-Hellenic Studies and is owned by the Onassis Foundation. It contains all of Cavafy's major works in the translation of Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard (edited by G.P. Savidis)
- Sophie Hannah Official Sophie Hannah Website
- Fernando Pessoa The Fernando Pessoa House has a unique treasure: the private library of this great literary figure. It's not very often one can find an entire library belonging to a writer with Pessoa's universal dimension.
Top Posts & Pages
Category Archives: David Scanlon (Translations)
What you didn't suspect was she lives trembling in the air. In a treasury of the day which you scarcely touch. Moments come and go laden with no one to look at them.
Posted in David Scanlon (Translations), Federico García Lorca, Poetry, Translation Tagged Dream, Life, Muse, Poetry, Poets, Seeing, Truth Leave a comment
If I could caress in my mouth the whole world And feel-her full bodied taste, And if the earth was a thing to bite upon Would I be happier for that brief moment… But I don't always want to be … Continue reading
Posted in David Scanlon (Translations), Fernando Pessoa, Poetry, Translation Tagged Feeling, Happiness, Life, Resilience, Thinking Leave a comment
I Know The Truth! All previous truths – depart! We don't have to with others be fight seekers. Behold: see night: soon the darkness will start. What do you say – poets, lovers, and leaders?
Posted in David Scanlon (Translations), Marina Tsvetaeva, Poetry, Translation Tagged Life, Love, Poetry, Poets, Resilience, Truth Leave a comment
I thank you all, who have loved me so right with your hearts entwined in mine. Thank-you each, who have remained: in her voices-view when my prison-walls appeared so tight;
If I do interrogate when I am astonishedNo new fresh flowers are born in the meadowsNor does it change anything in the sun so that it becomes more beautiful…(Even if fresh flowers were born in the meadowAnd the sun changed … Continue reading
Posted in David Scanlon (Translations), Fernando Pessoa, Poetry, Translation Tagged Beauty, Life, Nature, Seeing Leave a comment


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Get our new Spongeclean, liquid Foundation Blender cleanser together with a refill for your Spongedry!
Use Spongeclean, liquid sponge cleanser to wash away makeup, bacteria and refresh makeup sponges
How to use:
dampen Foundation Blender, distribute the cleanser on the sponge, squeeze, work into a lather, add a bit of extra water. Rinse with plenty of water and repeat this process until the Foundation Blender is completely clean. After cleaning place Foundation Blender in a Spongedry to dry and safely store ready for the next use.
Ingredients: aqua, limonene, sodium luareth sulfate, cocamidopropyl betaine, ammonium lauryl sulfate, sodium chloride, cocamide DEA, Glycerin, parfum, polysorbate-20, citric acit, methylchloroisothiazolinone, benzyl alcohol, methylisothiazolinone magnesium chloride, magnesium nitrate, triethylene glycol propylene glycol
Made in the UK
Our Foundation Blender is especially developed to be used with our Spongedry make up sponge holder. Its unique shape with flat side and pointy tip allows for precise make-up application and gives you a variety of ways to apply your make up. Our Blenders are Latex Free and can be used wet or dry. Made in China.
Spongeclean and Foundation Blender duo
The Basic Beauty Tools Foundation Blenders can be used wet or dry. To dampen, hold the blender under running water and squeeze a few times until the blender is completely saturated and has expanded in size. Squeeze to get the excess water out and your blender is ready to use. Wash your Foundation Blender regularly with mild soap and warm water, rinse well. We recommend using your Foundation Blender with Spongedry, our universal sponge holder, to dry your Foundation Blender hygienically to prevent the build-up of bacteria and mould and to use Spongeclean, our liquid Foundation Blender cleanser to wash away makeup, bacteria and refresh makeup your blender.
Replace your Foundation Blender every 3-5 months, depending on use. Keep away from fire, direct sunlight and children under the age of five.


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Another non-pill weight loss product has entered the market recently. Lytess Slimming Leggings are leggings meant to help you slim your lower body and achieve visibly slimmer silhouette in a short period of time.
How Lytess Slimming Leggings work
These leggings were specially designed from materials that can fully adapt to your body's lines. On top of this, inside the leggings there are microcapsules that release caffeine and shea butter as you move throughout the day.
This way your body is forced to use stored fat and hydrate the skin. We believe that releasing of caffeine is meant to be used as fat burner while shea bitter is meant to give you better looking skin.
How to use Leggings?
Manufacturers recommend wearing Lytess Slimming Leggings for 8 hours per day, 6 days a week, during the period of 3 weeks. They make such recommendation because independent clinical tests showed reduction of 5.5 cm in hips and up to 3.1 cm from thighs after just 3 weeks of using the Lytess Leggings.
Where to buy Lytess Slimming Leggings?
This product is now available through Boots.com, a respectable online retailer of various health and weight loss products. Price of theses leggings is around £50. If you don't like taking pills for weight loss, then we fully recommend Lytess Slimming Leggings; it's definitely an innovative product and could be very well worth a try!
Available at Boots.com for £50


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Jason Stevens | United States
In Islamic principles, some things are halal (Lawful) and others haram (Forbidden). You probably know that adultery, homosexuality, and alcohol are haram in Islam. But there are many other objects and acts that the religion disapproves of. Here's a list of haram and/or makrooh (detestable) things that may surprise you.
1) Hair Removal
Can you imagine going to hell for plucking your eyebrows? Women in Islam are forbidden to do so; it is haram. The action of removing the hair of the eyebrows is called al-namas.
"Allah has cursed the woman who does tattoos and the one who has them done, the woman who plucks eyebrows (al-naamisah) and the one who has it done (al-mutanammisah), and the one who files her teeth for the purpose of beauty, altering the creation of Allaah." (Narrated by al-Bukhaari, 5931; Muslim, 2125)
According to a hadith of Ibn 'Umar's, Muslim men are obligated to keep their beards as a means to differentiate them from the kuffar or non-believers. Narrated By Nafi': Ibn Umar said, The Prophet said, 'Do the opposite of what the pagans do. Keep the beards and cut the moustaches short.'
2) Makeup and Perfumes
Makeup can get women attention and to protect them from unwanted looks, Islamic principles don't want women to wear make up the same way they want them to hide their hair and body. (Hijab, niqab…).
"And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what must ordinarily appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty except to their husbands, their fathers, their husbands' fathers, their sons, their husbands' sons, their brothers, or their brothers' sons or their sisters' sons, or their women or the servants whom their right hands possess, or male servants free of physical needs, or small children who have no sense of the shame of sex, and that they should not strike their feet in order to draw attention to their hidden ornaments. And O you Believers, turn you all together towards Allah, that you may attain Bliss." (Quran 24:31).
They don't want women to "provoke" men; that's the most common argument from Muslim scholars.
Perfume is allowed if a woman is with her husband or female friends.
"Any woman who puts on perfume and passes by people so that they can smell her fragrance is a zaaniyah. » Narrated by Imam Ahmad (19212) and al-Nasaa'i (5126); classed as haram by al-Albaani in Saheeh al-Jaami'.
3) Disobeying a Husband
It is not permissible for a woman to fast when her husband is present except with his permission, or to allow anyone to enter his house without his permission. She cannot go out of the house or travel without his permission. Men have the right of qawwaamah (being in charge of the household). In other words, women are treated like prisoners.
They're also not allowed to have friends of the opposite sex.
4) Music
You didn't see this one coming, did you?
It is true that Music is not illegal in any Muslim country. However, verses (Ayat) in the Quran made it a controversial issue in the Arab world. "The Almighty Allah has sent me as a mercy to the worlds and to guide the people. He ordered me to eradicate the playing of flute, other instruments of music, all games of vice, idol (worship) and all practices of the days of ignorance." – Mustadrakul Wasa'il, Chapter 79
5) Gold and Silk (for Men)
Gold is something with which people adorn and beautify themselves, but a man is not supposed to do this.
A woman needs to adorn herself so as to make herself attractive to her husband, thus creating a bond between her and her husband.
Ali reported that the Prophet took some silk in his right hand and some gold in his left, declaring, "These two are haram for the males among my followers. »
Dress codes in Islam are for both men are women (Some sort of equality); the Quran also states that men should not wear shorts.
6) Dogs
Man's best friend is haram in Islam. Muslims can own a dog for hunting but not have one as a pet.
« Whoever keeps a dog, his good deeds will decrease every day by one qeeraat (a unit of measurement), unless it is a dog for farming or herding. »
« The angels do not enter a house in which there is a dog." (Al-Bukhaari) and (Muslim).
In 2010, Muslim bus drivers in the UK did not allow guide dogs in their buses and cars.
7) Not Saying Bismallah Before Killing an Animal
It has to be a halal slaughter.
"Eat from the slaughtering upon which the name of Allah has been mentioned ».
8) Gambling
"Whoever plays with dice, it is as if he dipped his hand in the flesh and blood of a pig."
All forms of gambling, using dice or otherwise, are generally haram.
9) Having More than 4 Wives
Islam limited polygamy. Having five wives is haram.
"Then marry [other] women that you like, two, three, or four. »
And the list goes on.
Why Are Certain Things Haram Over Others?
Keep in mind that not all Muslims follow these principles; some have different interpretations of Islam. Many Muslim scholars deny such interpretations altogether.
But some questions are nonetheless worth asking. How is killing infidels (non-believers) halal and wearing jeans haram? Why is child marriage halal but women praying with men haram?
May peace be upon you.
71 Republic takes pride in distinctively independent journalism and editorials. Every dollar you give helps us grow our mission of providing reliable coverage. Please consider donating to our Patreon.


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The purpose of Google's Panda update is to support quality content from websites and downgrade the low quality and duplicate content. Content farms were ranking better on Google because it was high in volume. Another strategy which had used by the content farms is to optimize the articles with excess amount of keywords.
These techniques helped the content farms to become at the top, while the other high quality content suffered and remained behind. While, Panda has ensured that low quality content does not get the public eyes in the SERP's. Panda's latest version 4.1 promotes small and medium-sized websites with high quality content. The following is the way to build the content, which will be promoted by the Google Panda.
Increase Content Quality
The quality of content has to be high, which ensures that the contents meet the mark, and people have to know that how to develop the content. High quality content is related to Google's objective of best user experience.
Stay Updated and Relevant
Old published studies, which contain incorrect and outdated information, are become to Panda penalties. The content has to be up-to-date and try to create new content which is timely and relevant.
Try to Go Evergreen
In order to stay on the top the content has to be fresh. Evergreen content is the extraordinary additions to the content strategy. It provides timeless approach to content which never gets old. Evergreen content is best for the content collection and valuable to the audience. The examples of Evergreen content are:
- Reference material
- Step-by-step instructions
- Top tip posts
- Frequently asked questions
- Guides to industry terminology
Keep Keyword Density in Check
The keyword density creates or breaks the chances with Panda; it also has impact on the audience. It is the ratio based on the number of times the keyword has been used as compared to the amount of text in the content. There have to be fair balance between keywords usage and content.
Avoid duplication
Try to avoid copying from other websites, as it would be subject to the Panda penalties. The content has to be built and write on your own ideas and words.
Go Long
Long form content is considered best and it has direct link with performance in the SEPRs. It not need to write life story, but 2000 words and up is best starting point for the long content. The length of the content should not hit the quality of the content.
Stay on Topic
Always try to stay on the topic, as straying from the original topic can damage the SEO and content efforts. Unnecessary words and sentences reflect bed impression of the content and the try to improve the content without going away from the original topic.
Link valuable Content
By creating link worthy content may aid to magnetize high quality links from outside sources. Consider the type of content which should be link to your content, if you will link to it, there is the possibility that someone else also will do this.
Formatting Matters
Low quality formatting posts may lead the content for the panda penalties and they will be the possibility of eliminating and rejection. The formatting has to be done appropriately as proper Headings, sub-headings, proper paragraph and bullet points can work marvellous for the formatting.
Engage and Educate
The engaging and educating content is always highly worthwhile in both the eyes of audience and Panda. The engaging and informative content translates to greater user experience. If the entire experience is high the content is doing a very good job.
I'm Lewis Paul, and I work for writing essays as an academic writer. I generally deal with freelance Writing Essayz and help to those who wants freelancing writing jobs and especially for students having less in writing papers to prepare their own work or assignments.


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Lawrence bus drivers prepared for possible strike after city changes contractor
photo by: Contributed Photo
Story updated at 5:05 p.m. Monday, Dec. 31:
Amid renegotiation of their contract, members of the local transit union are prepared to strike, raising the possibility that local bus service could come to a halt.
The city of Lawrence and the University of Kansas recently decided to hire a different company to operate their coordinated bus services. The City Commission voted in November to hire First Transit, which is set to replace longtime contractor MV Transportation on Jan. 1.
Amalgamated Transit Union Local 1754 President Justin Priest said that union members, at a meeting on Sunday, voted to strike. Priest explained that the vote doesn't mean that drivers, mechanics and dispatchers won't be showing up for their shifts, but the vote paves the way for a strike in the future if negotiations break down.
"If the negotiation part goes poorly, then we have the option," Priest said. "We are giving ourselves the option."
As the Journal-World recently reported, drivers will be paid more per hour with First Transit — a starting wage of $15. Under MV Transportation, drivers made about $12 per hour. However, Priest said other elements of the contract First Transit has proposed are worse for workers.
Specifically, Priest said that even though workers are paid more per hour, health care premiums also increased, and the annual deductible increased to $6,000. He said the increase in pay is not enough to cover those additional costs.
Priest also said that First Transit has proposed striking part of its proposal that allows workers to take bathroom breaks at any time, as well as another provision that allows them to work a second job.
A call to First Transit was not immediately returned Monday afternoon.
At the commission's meeting in November, First Transit Regional Vice President Susan Spry told commissioners that First Transit's proposal included the terms of the existing union contract and that she expected a smooth transition.
The commission approved a five-year contract with First Transit after considering proposals from it and MV Transportation, which has operated the city bus service since 2000. Though First Transit's proposal was more expensive, a committee ranked First Transit higher in all other criteria.
For the five-year period, MV Transportation proposed $30.5 million and First Transit proposed $32.1 million, or about 5 percent more than MV, according to information the city provided to the Journal-World. The portion of the contract provided to the commission does not include stipulations about worker pay or other benefits.
Priest said that contract negotiations between the union and First Transit began Thursday, and that union members picketed outside the transit offices Friday morning from 8 to 10 a.m., forming an "information line" with signs. He said contract negotiations are ongoing and that the next negotiation meetings are tentatively scheduled for Jan. 10 and 11.
Related stories
• Dec. 23 — City's new bus operator charging about $1.6M more than competing firm; city says bus technology, driver pay to improve
• Nov. 7 — City of Lawrence approves new contractor to operate buses; new company says transition will be smooth


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Essential Wholefoods Curry Powder Madras Hot 1kg and 500g
Essential Trading is recalling Essential Wholefoods Curry Powder Madras Hot because it contains mustard which is not mentioned on the label. This means the product is a possible health risk for anyone with an allergy to mustard.
If you have bought the above product and have an allergy to mustard, do not eat it. Instead return it to the store from where it was bought for a full refund.
Note from Allergy UK: If you have any concerns about the above product please contact our helpline on 01322 619898 (9am – 5pm).