Monday, 21 December 2015

It's perfectly ok to NOT be ok.

Churchill Park on a cloud filld morning!
 "The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls." 

~ Pablo Picasso
Parnell Rose Gardens

It’s perfectly ok to NOT be ok all of the time.
Bumping into my doctor this last week reinforced that sentiment.
She understands my struggle at this time of year.
I find Christmas difficult.
I find it lonely, despite oft being surrounded by a myriad of people
Memories of happier years past sneak out of my eyes.  
They trickle down my cheeks.
Obscure my vision.
Make it difficult to speak.
If only ....
Point England Reserve
As Christmas jingles fill the air and fairly lights twinkle from every direction, 
it’s hard not to feel that Christmas has been hijacked by unbridled consumerism. 
If only he'd had his tail feathers spread
 Everyone’s buying for Christmas, 
no matter their faith, culture or ethnicity.  
Helping me eat breakfast
I’m not alone in struggling during this so-called SILLY season.
Many of the folk I’ve conversed with this past week feel the same.
It’s a more than emotional time of the year.
Adventures into the country always yeild interesting finds.
This little foal and mom were galloping around the paddock so I just HAD to stop and take a photo.
SILLY season for a reason.
A "Lily" pond
As I juggle shifts at the shop with markets and fairs.  
I’m grateful for the distraction that a full schedule brings.
Rambles have been a tad haphazard and rushed.
Not that the hound minds.
She more than makes up for any tardiness on my part with her enthusiasm for ANY adventure, no matter how short or infrequent.
And of course, she has her paddling pool
.... and balls in all shapes, colours and sizes
If you don't take your eyes off the ball ....
you can CATCH it!
I can do no wrong in her eyes
and I love that.
There are moments during our rambles when my heart skips a beat.
When time stands still.
When just for a second, this world in all it’s imperfection, is perfectly perfect.
Christmas and all.
“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, 
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? 
It came without ribbons. 
It came without tags. 
It came without packages, boxes or bags. 
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. 
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. 
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
~ Dr. Seus
Merry Christmas one and all

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