Life is messy.

Reflections at Panmure Basin

“It’s all messy: 

The hair.  

The bed.  

The words.  

The heart.  

Life.” 

~ William Leal

Life is short.  

And messy. Very messy.

One of the images from our rambles last week

Thoughts have crept unbidden into my mind this last week.

Early morning rambles do that.

It’s the solitude.

No one else around.

Just the hound and I.

And that glorious red glow in the sky.

We like it like that.

It leaves room to think.

To ponder on the loss I’m feeling.

Loved ones, be it family or friends, leave holes that aren’t easily filled.

We even got to ramble with the oldest lemming and two of his charges
Chase and the rather gorgeous Walter

The hound knows when my heart is sore.

So much is read in those soulful eyes.

Every move she makes is aimed to please.

She nudges my hand as we walk.

Drops the rugby ball for me to kick.

Another image from my rambles this last week

No matter how ineffectual the kick, 

she pounces on the ball with gusto.

Her enthusiasm and waggling bum can’t help but elicit a smile.

Our ramble this morning though was about to get messy.

Courtesy of a discarded fully inflated soccer ball.

Her delight on finding this treasure was infectious.

How could I not grin?

Chase and the hound whuispering sweet nothings
in each other's ears.

No Labrador’s mouth though is large enough to carry TWO balls.

Unless you’re Chase the Chocolate Labrador 

who quite comfortably fits 3 to 4  tennis balls in his mouth.

Even HE though would struggle with a rugby ball AND a soccer ball.

It’s just not possible.

So she worked out a plan.

Chase with only 2 balls in his mouth

She carried one ball a few hundred metres, dropped it, 

then went back for the other.

Our ramble back to the car was slower than the ramble from it.

Walter ... he might be old but there's nothing wrong with his attitude

Neither ball was left behind though.

BOTH came home with her.

It was a lesson in ingenuity,

but farcical in the extreme.

Mornings like this make any messy moments in life more bearable.

No matter how sad I might feel,

no matter the voids loved ones leave,

I can’t help but feel that my life is blessed.

“A good life is when you smile often, dream big, 

laugh a lot and realise how blessed you are for what you have.” 

~ anon.

An unconventional answer.

 What to do when nothing, 

not even a ramble, 

takes away the melancholy feeling?

Find a truth that resonates with your soul.

We’re such emotional creatures.

On a high one day to an absolute downer the next.

The SO being served with a deportation notice can do that to one.

Trying to makes sense of it all is futile.

Shit happens.

Yep ... the Pukeko was quicker than I was.

It’s standard practice apparently to issue non-citizens with deportation notices.

It doesn’t affect my residency or that of the lemmings, just the SO.

Conventional wisdom dictates that I should remain positive.

Practice affirmative behavior.

Repeat empowering mantras.

Catching that early morning sun as it wakes up my world

Life doesn’t fit into a mould though.

Each of us is unique.

What works for one doesn’t necessarily work for another.

She only wanted the hound to chase her and couldn't understand why she wouldn't.

As I sat on top of the stairs at Dingle Dell,

with the hound by my side,

I pondered on the ache I felt inside.

I’ve come to love this country.

I love it’s quirkiness and the oddball characters that flit in and out of my life.

Verbalising those feelings ... even if it’s only to the hound ... helps.

She doesn’t mind the words falling out of my mouth bit.

Life feels like it’s been on hold for a while.

Stagnating instead of growing.

Stumbling from one chaotic moment to another.

Instead of making my passion happen more fully, 

I’m giving in to the dictates of circumstance.

It’s time to be true to me.

To cultivate that innate sense of curiosity

that sparked my photography from the beginning.

To really FEEL the emotions I see.

To take a risk, no matter the consequence.

Amazing reflections this morning.

It might result in the eyes leaking a little more frequently 

but tears are therapeutic too.

Deportation notices can be appealed.

They can be rescinded.

A "feel-good" party in your brain.

 "Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, 

but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy." 

~Thich Nhat Hanh

A smile is something that SHOULD be worn often.

Each time you smile you throw a little “feel-good” party in your brain.  

How awesome is that! 

Your OWN anti-depressant WITHOUT the side effects of medication.

My world is simply a better place when I smile

Even when the weather’s dull, I can create my own sunshine

and there’s magic in that there sunshine!

I have an advantage of course.

A chocolate brown 4-legged furry friend who’s bum waggle ALONE makes me smile.

Life is PRECIOUS.  

SHE is precious.

I had reason yesterday to assist a friend in an unpleasant crisis.  

It wasn’t something she had ever expected to have to deal with.  

Likewise myself.

It got me thinking about how very casually we take this right we have to life.

In the nonchalance of my youth I couldn’t even begin to envision mortality.

That was for “old” people.

Yesterday’s crisis was an eye-opener as to how mortal we can be.

As I’ve got older, I have a different “TAKE” on this thing we call life and living.

Every day is to BE appreciated.

Enjoyed.

Filled.

Preferably with rambles on the beach!

A crisis of the magnitude my friend faced  IS sometimes necessary.

It facilitates endings and new beginnings.

Necessary endings and beginnings.

EVERYone has DEMONS that they’re dealing with.

Facing up to them and dealing with them is the only way forward.

Smiling doesn’t take the demons away but it sure makes them easier to deal with.

“Inhale all the good shit and exhale the bullshit.” 

~ anon

(Courtesy of my mate Mands!)