not yet punditik

image from http://likesuccess.com/ She is gone You said her time was up Her lease expired She left the day you looked at your past And told it the cliché My past does not define me She left the day you shouted down the urging That whispered that life was large That there must be more than this She left the day you refused to acknowledge That the past was hurt And had a hold on you She left in that instance And your past became your now And you embraced it She left the moment Your past became your future And you received it She left the day you acquiesced yourself To not seeking To not healing The instance That you died While you still lived She did not go softly She fought and pleaded But you were determined You unthreaded her slowly In action and in deed From the weft and warp of your being Piece by piece into the bin Smaller and smaller she became Then just a smudge You dusted off your hand

image from http://likesuccess.com/ They - the world, keep on telling me, that it is not about me.  That it is about the people in my life, my interactions and relationships.  It’s about others.  That I should view them as more important than I. And that making it all about me is the height of selfishness and egocentricity. But, I recently had a conversation with someone, and subsequently sat in the audience for a sermon, and the message was the reverse – It is all about me.  My life is about me, my actions are about me, and what I am doing is about me.  It is all about me. One view point must be right, and the other wrong.  Or could both be right.  A conundrous situation that.  And could there be too, a third prism?  That third part - I am not going to even entertain. So - two sides, to it.  A coin.  With one side about me, and the other not about me?  Double sided me.  Within the width transverse of me the coin, where is the demarcation between it “being about me”, an

image from Pinterest I'm keeping you My mother My sister My daughter You We are together Not just for a reason Or a time But for life Ours Pendulum-ing sometimes In and out of my life And at each incoming Is like you were never away Back to our sameness You remind me time and time again That every woman has a story Characters and instances changing The struggle is the same I bear witness to this I watch you in struggle Grow into the you I have already seen And I am glad I am a part Of your becoming I worry about you When things are not right with you And wonder if you worry about you too Or me Or not I pray for you I know you pray for me Because I get answers To prayers I have not prayed Or yet to pray I love you No matter what No matter when No matter why who where how Or if Because of love I forgive When you have not been kind When you have not offered a hand When you have sp

image from Twitter Though I am invested in you And I know you have done the same I have had to let you go Or gone myself Adieu I have to let you go Your reason is complete Our stay is ended Out of my life And my journey’s space I have to let you go You add no value to me now Or I to you Because Our time is off Looking back sometimes I see Albeit at times I cannot recognise The point at which our steps diverged To allow for singular movement Without the other I will keep you in my heart And once in a while Pull you out In nostalgic remembrance Of the good The unending conversation Truest exchanges The story shared Deep into the night And forever lasting phone call The unbridled laughter Spontaneous tears Of our souls Bared Without reserve I will remember too The call placed in times of strife Never mind the hour Or the place And the immediate response I will remember us The care The

image from https://www.pinterest.com/eilwills/black-art/ You have been a mainstay in my life In the ups and ups Downs and still lower downs  Helping Sometimes abetting I have to fess up I haven’t always told the truth And I wonder if you’ve known To let it be Because you already knew I have lied to you Undoubtedly in thought In a looking glance or none at all By omission in silence and inaction Deliberately in word and deed I have lied to you To shield you from hurt Or to shield myself I’ve known not which Because sometimes the truth would not serve I have let some lies live And killed others When their lyingness was done Or they were not enough For the truth was better I’ve hurt you By accident And in shame deliberately And seen its harm And I am sorry I have quarrelled With you For you And for me Apologised and forgiven I am glad when you succeed I applaud Grateful to be present To wit

image from https://www.pinterest.com/ Your pains Your sorrows Your agonies I’ve been there I know them Your joys Your happiness Your gladness And peace I live them Your dreams Your desires Your wishes And aspirations I hope them Your values and beliefs What matters most to you Makes you tick and drives you In different degrees of instances Is me You are me woman In different degrees That I do not understand You are a reflection Of myself for myself I recognise you I identify with you So similar to me On the inside So different on the outside Still unfamiliar New twists and nuances For both of us Because Becoming is a process

image from https://www.pinterest.com/explore/female-cartoon/ It is the first time we meet We are young Middle aged or beyond I see you And wonder Or it’s the second time we meet I used to know you In my past We might or might not have been close But now something just clicks I watch you woman As you recognise me Size me up And wonder If I will fit you I say something You respond You speak I acknowledge Your spoken I wonder on your unspoken Of what lies behind the smile And the sudden silent stare Off into the far Or is it into yourself We learn each other I wonder if I shock you I wonder what you think of me And decide that whatever it is It is okay I wonder what you would say If you knew my deepest secrets Or my quietest sorrows My longings and hopes For me and mine You sit with me In silence and in chatter In laughter and tears In flitzy ditzy thoughts And the serious pensive me I

http://www.edgeconsultant.com Once upon a time – okay, two years and 4 months ago, I dramatically left formal employment.  I walked out that door, and did not let the door hit me where nature put a crack on my back side.  I walked into a great wilderness of nothingness.  It was to answer the call of my restlessness, my unfulfillement.  It was to search for something that was larger than my current existence.  Because I knew that this - where I was at, was not it and could not be it - the end game for my existence. I have dived deep into myself.  Faced my struggles.  Examined my pain.  Rejoiced in my gifts.  Awed by my accomplishments.  Accepted powerful me.  I have found out who I am.  I have been holding back from stepping forward and up; by relying on past negative outcomes caused by rejection and refusal of my most ardent hopes and wishes, by those that knew no better.  I have faced my fears.  Of failure, of indecision, of procrastination and inaction – held together by s

image from www.pinterest.com ‘God is good.’  ‘All the time’ ‘And all the time’ ‘Good is good.’ Oft repeated in my presence.  In church.  And other gatherings where believers meet. One day, my parish priest added, ‘God is crazy’.  There was utter and profound shock amidst the congregants.  There was a smattering of ‘Noooooooo’, from mouths not agape at the thought of a crazy God.  He still says it, once in a while, ‘God is crazy’, laughs heartily, but not once has he ever received a unified response.  I do not know what his expected response is. I was not shocked.  I thought  - he thinks the same?  Because I confess, I have thought it.  I have.  I have with temerity to thought that God is crazy.  In a good way.  A good kind of crazy way.  Does that exist? And I am not being irreverent.  I am just expressing my inability to understand Him in my little human thinking. Me thinks this – God decided He was going to make man in his image and likeness, out of love, f

image from www.pinterest.com I am reading a book – okay, I have already finished it.  The book is Lifted from the Pit of Brokenness and Despair, subtitled, A Testimony in Healing and Restoration, by Anastasia Queen. My mother gave me the book.  She bought it at the prayer session she attended recently.  It is a good book.  Anastasia has dedicated the book to the courageous men, women and children who died in the 1994 Rwanda genocide, but above all, to all the survivors, whose testimonies, though in no way similar to hers, but in many ways - their courage became her courage, their strength became her strength and their hope her hope.  I find that profoundly insightful – the transference and the passing on of the determination and expectation for and of life. Anastasia tells intimately of her life’s hurt in a relationship, the effect it had on her decisions and actions, the pain and the anguish that she felt, and of the path she took to live again, when God breathed life an