Yule and the absent Christmas spirit

Another friend has messaged me this week wracked with remorse because they won’t be able to see me or celebrate Christmas with me till after the New Year.

It always makes me chuckle as they tie themselves up in knots apologising and thinking I will go off the deep end at being abandoned at such a special time of year. The thing is, I’m pagan so the 26^th and 27^th of December and the following days don’t really mean the same to me. Yule or the night of the 21^st into the 22^nd of December, the time when the amount of daylight increases slowly, is my observance; the turning of the wheel of the year, “the return of the light” or “the birth of the sun” and a time of reflection about those who have passed over in the previous year, but also a time of hope for the future.

I did the whole Christmas and Santa thing with my kids when they were young because it was important to them and should be respected. As they got older I lessened the emphasis on it and let them go their own way. Now for me it is a time to give small gifts of candles, incense and sweets to welcome the light back into our lives and communities. Of all the festivals of the calendar year this is the one that means the most to me. It is a simple celebration in comparison with the gluttony, indulgence and expense of the Christmas and New Year excesses I see around me. I light candles, wave goodbye to the dark half of the year, the Holly King and Queen and welcome the Oak King and Queen. The time spent with close friends and relations sipping ale or mead and eating cake over a nice fire bowl or candlelight indoors is worth more to me than any gifts that can be bought.

I wish everyone a peaceful Yule and a creative beginning to the light half of the year. xx

Fear

I have had glimpses of momentary fear through my life, and some of these incidents have been the fear and ecstasy prior to doing something new and exciting. These are our natural fears that keep us safe and alert and I welcome them.

I can’t honestly say any of these micro events have been life changing. Life enhancing maybe, but there is one nightmare experience when I truly thought I was going to die and everything slowed down and time seemed to drag.

I was a pillion on the back of my former partner’s motorbike. We had argued prior to leaving home. He wanted to go to the social club 70miles away and I didn’t want to go with him because I knew he was still too angry and emotional and wouldn’t be safe driving. As I flatly refused to go out with him, he rang a mate of ours asking her to come round and be mediator. We didn’t need a mediator. He was doing what he always did. Making mountains out of mole hills and accusing me of all sorts that I hadn’t done. Anyway, after an hour of calm discussion, our friend left and we got on the bike to leave. Literally a mile up the road he started screaming at me again and driving dangerously. I was unable to get off by this time. I had a terror ride from hell those 70 miles, and the only thing I could do was trust the universe and continually incant to the universe to bring me home safe to my sons who were still school age. When we got to the social club, it was closed and in darkness. He had got the wrong night. The ride home was calm and sensible.

My whole body was frozen in terror that entire time on the ride. My stomach was cold and still, my muscles screamed in pain and my mouth was locked and dried out from lack of saliva. My head felt as if it would explode. My trust in the universe and in the nature of being was the only thing that kept me sane. The whole episode took over 2 hours. When we got home, I could hardly move, my body was so stiff and I was shaking in terror. He of course, was completely oblivious to his former state of mind and wanted to resume our usual jolly life. I was too traumatised and when I tried to address the situation, he just blamed it all on me as he always did with any crisis he experienced. Everything he thought he knew or remembered in these instances were always figments of his imagination. I learned quickly that he was possibly undiagnosed with a mental illness or PTSD and that I and my sons were in danger.

Fortunately, none of his outbursts before or after were anywhere near as extreme as this; just usually verbal assaults and sulking.

I loved dangerous sports, so I was used to the adrenaline rush of other supposed dangerous moments, so not a stranger to the old pounding heart and heightened awareness. These times were all of my own making and therefore any responses or subsequent injuries where something I accepted with joy. They were character building for me and resonated with the warrior woman I knew myself to be.

I resented this man who was supposed to love me body and soul, my life partner, who seemed to have so little connection with me that he would put me in danger deliberately and deny his actions, but refuse to get out of my life altogether, It defied logic.

Mystic friends have come up with all sorts of explanations of his actions and truthfully there aren’t any really that make sense to a normally wired brain. I just look back over the 20 years that have passed and know I have learned a valuable lesson about life and savour the skills I have in keeping myself and my loved ones safe and happy.

Corbyn's Glasters gig

So, Jeremy Corbyn goes from that vague dodgy uncle with the elbow pads to rock god in the blink of an eye! How many previous MP's have stood and spoken on the Pyramid stage at Glasters in the past I wonder?

"He's pulling in the youth vote by lying to them about college fees and housing" says a friend just now. So young people are thick are they? Tell you one thing they aren't, and that's dumb. If he sells them out, they won't ever forgive. Well, not until they are in their 50's and 60's and realise life often doesn't deliver as you would wish it. He will go from idol to villain quicker than you can say 'jump'. It's a big risk. He will be committing political suicide and that will be the end of the Labour Party for good and all. The Conservatives will rule the waves indefinitely.

To those people who voice dissent, I say, wait; If he crashes and burns it will be quick, and you will have proved your point. If he gets to actualise all the dreams he has put forward, we all gain (well, apart from the 1% super rich who don't like anything that rocks their boat) and if it all goes tits up, then the super rich still hold all the cards and the rest of us just get dragged along in the wash. We have nothing to lose either way (unless you are one of the super rich, of course!)

People fear change, but there is nothing but constant change. The universe is continually changing, and we can only embrace it and enjoy the trip in a proactive way, or lose our shit and struggle.

>>A Buddhist goes to a hot dog vendor and the vendor asks him "Hey buddy what can I make you?".

"Make me one with everything" replies the Buddhist.<<

A Kid's Memory

14^th May 2017

We lived in an old tenement block, damp, mouldy, rodent infested. So many old properties like this existed in and around London. No one owned their own places. You were rich or a successful crook if you did. We moved around a lot. Dad was always at work, on duty or away.

I was sitting halfway up the stairs between landings pulling faces and making baby noises to 18 month old Michael who was in his pram on the landing near me. The rooms weren’t big enough for furniture and a basinet pram, so baby Michael spent a lot of time in his pram on the landing. My Mum was on the floor below in the laundry room; I could hear humming and see her through the gap in the stairwell.  I knew my 7^th birthday was coming soon and I was excited knowing that I was getting some Lego, and possibly sweets.

 I remember Michael’s Mum and Dad, Pattie and William. They were a young couple from Dublin who had been in the tenement for as long as Michael was old. William wasn’t around much but usually when I saw him, he had a hand rolled cigarette in his mouth and was always in a sleeveless vest. Pattie smoked a lot too; she used to bend over to talk to me and her hair always smelt of tobacco. I taught William to whistle and click his tongue because we were often at home on the landing together when I wasn’t at school, or out in the yard next to the coal bunker under the tree in the nice weather. He used to laugh lots when I pulled funny faces.

The radio was on in the background. It was always on. It always seemed to be the news. The news always sounded depressing and everyone would sigh and look unhappy or scowl.  I had hours to wait until “listen with mother” or “story time”. Mum had the radio on every day. There was no TV; only rich people had TV. 

One morning, I was sitting on the stairs pulling silly faces at baby Michael and waiting for Mum to finish the laundry, when Pattie came screaming out of their rooms, raced down the stairs, grabbed my mum by the arm and made her drop the laundry she was holding, shouting “you killed my grandfather!”  My mum just looked shocked, dropped her cigarette out of her mouth and said “I didn’t kill your grandfather! I didn’t know him” Pattie yelled back “you and your kind killed him” Mum just looked confused, and Pattie ran back upstairs and slammed the door behind her. William started to cry.

Mum was always very miserable and quiet after that. I didn’t see William again and I wasn’t allowed to play with Michael anymore. I suddenly noticed that the rooms on the next landing were empty. Pattie, Michael and William had gone. One day they were there, next day they weren’t. I asked lots of times where they’d gone; Mum would just get cross with me or not answer at all.

Dad’s leave was cancelled. A bomb had gone off somewhere in London.

Help for sanctioned ESA and JSA people

A message to everyone.
I hear about and see posts online of people who end up losing their home because of DWP sanctions that remove their JSA and ESA. Please please please ensure that anyone you know who is sanctioned understands that there is help. If your money is stopped you can go to the council and fill in a Nil Income form. That will reinstate rent and council tax and give access to further help like meter credits, foodbank vouchers and emergency cash payments. This info is not readily available sadly and it damn well should be. The authorities will only deal with it if you ask specifically which is a disgrace.
Share this on so everyone is aware