I was asked recently what phrase or word, other than “I love you”, would I consider to be of paramount importance. For me it is “Thank You”. Those two words can lighten my day. They can bring such a feeling of worth and can at times validate me.
This means that when I receive a “thank you”, I now know it is genuinely meant and thus making it so much more important than ever before. Today when I held the door of a shop open to allow someone to exit that person said “Thank You” and it certainly made my day as there is generally no acknowledgement.
In fact fairly recently I held the door, open as I would, to allow a young lady to exit rather than barging my way into a shop only to be greeted with “It is no wonder that women are still looked down upon, when we still have women like you holding doors open.” I was so stunned that what to me was politeness would be seen as putting down women.
I hadn’t realised that things had changed so much that a gesture of thoughtfulness would be seen as an insult. Things have changed.
I hadn’t realised just how much value I put on those two words. Does it matter then when people do not express their thanks? For me it is important but for others it is way down their list of priorities. I have come to realise that I have to accept that difference, but with the proviso that the phrase “Thank You” is important to me and perhaps others need to respect that. Or am I asking too much?
Isn’t it strange how sometimes one gets absolutely no response from reading a quote, thought or poem? Then a day, a month even years later one reads the same thought or quote and it just blows one away. Now that is exactly what happened to me.
I have developed an allergy to the dust that arises when cutting card and paper. Which has turned out to be a bit of a pain considering that paper and everything related to it has always been part of my life. Over the last I have been boxing my paper stash.
I was clearing another shelf this morning when a tag label I had made, floated to the floor. It read“Start where you are and use what you have”. It stopped me in my tracks. I have such a stash of paper and paper related items. Then my phone tinged with some notifications and before 10 minutes had elapsed I had found homes for my paper stash. I love the concept and so my boxes are destined for a number of groups who don’t have the money to use on craft items. So definitely recycle and reuse are to the fore.
Over the years I have accumulated fabric. Well I found if I photocopied some fabric it made brilliant back drops for cards!!! Yes, my mind works in mysterious ways. During the last three years I have gradually become interested in quilting. Now I am gradually able to see what fabric I have.
Now before anyone may suggest that I am just replacing the shelf space, which had previous stored card stock, with fabric I would have to disagree. It may in time but for now poetry books have meandered in, journals duly followed, then the cookery books seemed lonely and just needed to be seen and looked at. I’m sure you know how it is!!! Or at least I am hoping there is someone out there who can empathise.
But to get back to the tag label “Start where you are and use what you have” So, I am starting where I am at this moment with the fabric and books and I will see where it leads me. Mmmmmm there are just so many avenues.
Sometimes it is very hard to let go of the past. To let go of that hurt which in reality is bringing one down. It is hard to take that brave step and saying I don’t need to carry this hurt as it is only empowering the person who has hurt me.
“Don’t let the darkness from your past
Block the light of joy in your present
What happened is done.
Stop giving time to things which no longer exist,
When there is so much joy to be found in the here and now.”
It takes courage to let go but goodness it is so liberating. And I am now wondering how I could have been so stupid to carry it for such a long time.
Perhaps I may suggest that if like me you are carrying a hurt, write it on a large piece of paper expressing the hurt in words, in a picture,in any medium but express it. Perhaps you may need to name the person perhaps not. Then with a shredder or by hand, or perhaps burn the paper and with it let all your hurt and resentment burn or shred. It is a liberating experience.
During the last few weeks I have been hearing about Christmas traditions. I have been hearing about how baking is an integral part of the Christmas period. That decorating the tree is a special night. That getting that first Christmas card heralds the start of Christmas for others. The Christmas Movie is a night for chilling. The Christmas music is separate to Christmas carols. The Christmas poems. The Advent calendar and essential part of the Christmas. Visiting the crib in churches. Putting up the family crib.
The thing which has struck me is how diverse the traditions are yet there is a link. Practically each household has a different emphasis for each of the traditions. Each household is unique in this regard.
What I have learnt is that each household whether there is one person or twenty people living there have over the years absorbed traditions which suits that household and those traditions have developed. Some traditions have remained while others have been dropped for whatever reason.
Dropping a tradition can be hard especially if it is out of your control. However, it is amazing how quickly one can adapt to what is in essence a new tradition. Also adding in a new tradition can enhance the traditions of the household. Being open to new traditions and gradually absorbing them can re invigorate the meaning of Christmas.
Christmas is a unique experience for each individual. No one tradition is more important than another but the meaning of a tradition can be very personal and last for a long number of years.
I definitely believe my brain has gone on holidays or a least part of it. There are so many things I have forgotten about during these last few weeks. It really is embarrassing.
Forgot national book lovers day even though I love books. Nearly forgot National Girl Friends Day. I have missed two art exhibitions and a few other things have just slipped past. Really it is very irritating. I am normally on the ball but this year the concept of remembering seems to have disappeared. Now if just one person says it is to do with age I think I will scream.
But the icing on the cake is that I totally overlooked in fact I totally forgot, that on July 31st I set up my blog a year ago. Wow I can hardly believe that yet again I have forgotten something which I really shouldn’t have. It had taken me years to take the courage to even think about setting up a blog.
The actuality of naming, writing and publishing the blog was absolutely mammoth but with the backing of my other half, the practical help from Kerry at http://www.fabuliciousfifty.com and the voice of Marion resounding in my head I took the plunge. Nervous just doesn’t come near to how I felt when I hit the “publish” button.
Now over a year later I overlooked the date and didn’t celebrate.
A friend of mine who died during the year always said it was important to celebrate. To acknowledge achievements irrespective how big or small those achievements were. So Bernie here it goes, although it is a few months late I am taking heed and celebrating this first milestone.
There is a beginning and an ending for all experiences. Sometimes it is hard to end such experiences. This is about knowing when to let something go which is no longer relevant to our lives and is just taking up valuable space.
Now it may be as simple as realising that the book we have had since our twenties and which we have never read again is actually only taking up space on our precious book shelf. Some might say it has seen them through life but has it really when it has never been taken down from that shelf? Why is it some people just don’t hold onto things while others seem to get solace from having them?
I have a copy of all Shakespeare’s plays. It was given to me as a twenty first birthday present. So on my shelf is a book I received nearly forty years ago and which I never read as the cover makes my teeth “water” and the pages make my fingers itch!!! Really how inane is that? Why do I need to hang onto something which I have never and will never read?
So today the Shakespeare tome has been moved to the box which will make its way to the book exchange. Surprisingly it was not as difficult as I thought it would be to remove this book. Having developed a skin allergy to paper and card dust and certain other fibres, the need to hold onto this book was not as strong as I thought.
The practicalities far out-weigh, the nostalgia I had attributed to this books. This is definitely an unexpected ending. Or perhaps a new beginning?