Skipping through March

Good afternoon, dear readers,

It is a pleasure to connect with you again this lovely Tuesday. I appreciate that the week has only started, but might i intrude in your activities for today, for this week. As per my previous post i would like to remind you that i am still skipping in March in a bid to raise money for charity; specifically for Cancer Research UK.

The intrusion of cancer in anyone’s life isn’t pleasant. Whether malignant or benign, it remains an invasive guest for most people. Whilst we can not 100% predict or outsmart the condition, i think we can still manage it and take steps towards slowing its advancement.

Would you be able to help the above cause. Would you be able to make a donation today?

Please click this link. All contributions go straight to the charity.

Skip to the end of March.

Hi,

I hope this meets you well. It has only been a “minute”, yet here we are at the end of the second week in the last month of the first quarter of the “NEW year”. Can you imagine that?

Life is moving along rather swiftly.

For some people it’s moving fast yet slow. Fast because what ails them does not leave much room for negotiation or taking of deep breathes. Slow because the treatment does not seem aware of the threat neither does life.

And for some others it feels slow but fast. Slow because the end is inevitable but it seems so delayed and prolonged. The light seems very dim at the end of the proverbial tunnel. On the flip side it seems fast as the changes around never cease, barely giving anyone time to take it in.

For those dealing with cancer, it must seem like both on some days.

I cannot change the reality but i hope that by raising funds I can make whatever the reality is, a little less unpleasant, more tolerable. From a safe distance that adds no judgement.

Can you help me do this? Can you donate something to support Cancer research UK?

Please click the link. All fund go to the charity at the end of March.

Thank you in advance. I look forward to seeing your donations.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Shopping for dirt.

Depending on whom you spoke to dirt could either be a valuable commodity or terrible nuisance.

To the mother with a toddler in the park … it was anxious confusion. One minute it’s safe exploration… the next …

For the builder it was an important component for his job.

To the landscaper it was precious fodder one day and obstructive material the next.

To the housekeeper it was undoubtedly the worst house quest ever. An uninvited, an unwanted house guest.

Dirt wasn’t a terrible opinion divider. Outside their jobs almost everyone felt it was a nuisance.

To the press it was a head liner ….. new morning …. New NEWS.

For the subject of the NEWS it was a disaster ….. new morning …. Fresh laundry.

To the rumor peddler, it was titbits for coffee time. Or giggle bonding time with another peddler.

For the non-peddler, at best it was a mild irritant and at its worst a headache that needs to be addressed.

Dirt was a terrible opinion divider. Depending on who the trail led to, dirt was more than a nuisance.

Don’t shop for this dirt, don’t sell this dirt.

Billboard success.

Life is lived in stages.

I know you know this; however, I crave your indulgence as I recount the sequence from birth to my current stage. From day one to ten years of age will be considered as one decade. And from ten years to twenty years as the next decade etc. Through these phases I would like to consider what success might look like for most of us.

Success is not something most ten-year-olds or a baby would be interested in conceptualizing. At this stage, success is what parents, health professionals and teachers decide it should be. I call it the ambiguous stage of success. It is measured by generalized rules. For parents it’s the ability of the child to survive every germ. Their ability to crawl, walk, run, and generally engage at a level expected of them. In most cases every progressive step is exciting and every set back, easily forgiven or tolerated. As the child was not consulted in the planning and conceptualization stage of their being, blame for most setbacks cannot be laid solely at their feet. I like to visualize this stage as the point where the sculptor decides what type of material, they are working with. Thus, success is simply identifying the raw material available. We can also start to imagine what type of things it can me made into.

In the next decade (10 years – 20 years) the scale tips a little bit towards the child. At this point we become self-aware. We start to see ourselves as individuals and less an extension of our families or siblings. This stage is often froth with confusion. We try to merge peoples’ reflections or concept of us with our own internal concept. A wide variance between both images, instigates internal conflict. This conflict intensifies when the dynamics of our social circle or family is off kilter. It is very important at this stage to have a positive force, an anchor that holds us down. This anchor centers us, providing a backdrop against which our focus shifts from the our image that are cut, trimmed, remodeled, or completely changed. Drawing our attention to what we might need to become to embrace the decades ahead. Whist achieving a sense of unity or oneness would be ideally, I find that having a sense of peace as the next decade approaches is more vital.

The third decade in my opinion is a lot scarier than the others. Here certain harvests are reaped, whilst other seeds need to be sown. Like the previous decades we also have tendrils growing through the soils of our life. But I find that in this stage it is essential to uproot anything we do not want to see in the future. Why is it more important now? This is a stage where we expect to see things multiply. Multiply – physically, emotionally, financially etc. Essentially at this stage most of us add more labels to our lives. Thus, whatever we let grow in our life, we must accept the odds that it will multiply in this stage. Going back to the analogy of the sculptor, this is where edges are sharpened, or curves smoothened. This is the refining stage; weaknesses or scruples are more conspicuous. Here we must own ourselves or fall into blaming others. It’s a decade for facing harsh truths.

This theme of self-revelation clashing with self-acceptance carries on into the next decade (30 – 40). It often compels us to decide what success means for us.

       Success is : 1. the achieving of the results wanted or hoped for

          2. something that achieves positive results

            Cambridge dictionary.

This definition is straightforward. If my objective is to lose weight and I achieve this, according to the above I can be viewed as a success. However, if I regain the weight would this still be considered a success? What if I lose some of the target weight? Does my effort count? Is a percentage of the target still a success?

Anne Sweeney (American businesswoman) introduces another line of thought with regards to success:

“Define success on your own terms, achieve it by your own rules, and build a life you’re proud to live.”

The above allows everyone to adapt success to their personal lives and circumstances. It creates a broader sense of the word, allowing each one of us to paint a unique picture of success. Like those touching an elephant from different angles whilst blind folded, the definition does not change what success is. It changes what it would look like for all of us. Regardless of our individual definition of success, it is my view that any success attained on the fringes of destruction to life, or the balance of things cannot necessarily be regarded as true success. I consider that as BILLBOARD success, with tiny print disasters. Success that sacrifices a lot of valuables recklessly. Note that all successes often require sacrifice but the recklessness with which valuable things are sacrificed is the bedrock of BILLBOARD success. It often wins the fight but loses the war.

I am at the tail end of my fourth decade (30 – 40) and I find myself struggling to keep the war in view. For me the war is seeing myself in my eighties (God willing) and recognizing my forty year old self. It is seeing the threads of integrity, contentment, inner peace, and joy intact despite the daily fights of maintaining my voice in a world that fights to silence objections. The fight of balancing ambitious dreams with content living. The fight to maintain boundaries without alienating everyone. The fight to accept that ultimately some people must be cut out of our lives to win the war.

I daily remind myself that achieving BIILLBOARD success is not a menial or easy task. It is not something to be scuffed at or trivialized. However, the tiny prints that run through the printing press of my mind when I close my eyes in slumber must not be ignored. Should never be ignored. Success on my terms is to honor God, it is to have peace, it is to leave a legacy for my children. It is to embrace the sculptors plan.

Cutters stone.

I am that bridge between the past and present.

Gran says I broke the hunch on mothers back. Ma says I melted the iron
chains around grans heart.

I’m not sure how I managed to do all that.

But I like knowing gran waits up for ma when she’s late from work. And
grandpa cautions ma on speaking truths without caution.

I asked him why this was important, he said, “Like perfect cake batter
in the oven, true words served carelessly can deflate the receiving heart. Give
it time and it could lift the soul from despair.”

He calls me the cutters stone.


Photo prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Written for Friday fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please click the link to visit her site. And click this link to read other lovely stories.

Thanks for the opportunity to participate.

All roads lead home.

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

This is home.

Where my beginning started. Where I hope to sail past the veil to the end.

This is home.

Where red soil cakes my skin, like shed skin ready to fall off but unwilling to be cast aside.

This is home.

Memories and scars interlock like pavement tiles leading to the far reaches of my mind.

This is home.

The roof hangs low, a shield from intruding rays and nosey wind.

This is home.

A shadow I longed to escape, a hug I longed to embrace ardently.

This is home. The threshold to my beginning and my end.


 

Thank you Rochelle for hosting the writing event Friday fictiooneers. The rule is to write a 100 word piece in response to the provided picture. Please click the link to visit Rochelle’s blog. It will be worth your while. And click this link to read other stories and write ups.

Also written in memory of my step-brother who sadly died 20/4/23.

Though we were no longer close, his death is a reminded that life is fragile.

A reminder that no one else will fight for your life as you would.

A reminder that many are the dreams we rise with, sadly some will go back to sleep with one single blow.

It is well.

All roads lead home.

Rocky prospects

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Mrs Avery was dying. This was a certainty.

For Malcom, her death meant a solid cash flow into his investments.

For Angelica, she would finally take her rightful place as matriarch. The benefits were endless.

Servants served with baited breath, fretfully anticipating dismissal.

Franco read through his proposal adapting it for a new sponsor. He acknowledged Mrs Avery’s support for the new children’s shelter as a lost opportunity.

David sat inconsolable by her bed, silent tears drenching their linked hands.

Mrs Avery was dying. A cornerstone smashing some to smidgens, building others up.

Her will, the ultimate decider.


PHOTO PROMPT © Amanda Forestwood Thank you Rochelle for hosting the writing event Friday fictiooneers. The rule is to write a 100 word piece in response to the provided picture. Please click the link to visit Rochelle’s blog. It will be worth your while. And click this link to read other stories and write ups.

A scapegoat.

Merriam-webster dictionary defines the scapegoat as, a goat upon whose head the sins of the people were symbolically placed after which it is sent into the wilderness in the biblical ceremony for Yom Kippur. It also defines it as one that bears the blame for others or one that is the object of irrational hostility. Based on the first definition any goat could be selected during the feast of Yum Kippur to be the scapegoat. Up till the point when the priest casts the lot in the Jewish tradition either of the two goats could end up being the goat on whose head everyone’s sins were cast. It is important to note that the goat did not commit any sin of its own. It was only culpable in so much as it was a member of the Jewish community, at the time of Yom Kippur. It was unfortunate for whatever arbitrary reason to catch the attention of the priest and thus selected as one of the chosen for the fast .

This unfair fate is not relegated to goats alone. As the second definition above demonstrates man has been known to make a scapegoat of his fellow man. Regardless, of status in life whether noble, serf, leader, follower, innocent, guilty, loner or life of the party. One can quickly find themselves under the confessing tongues of many accusers. In similitude to the biblical scapegoat it would take an act of God to alter the desired outcome set upon by the community in which the accused exists in at the time. For many goats and people, being a scapegoat has never been a threat, nor even something they have ever imagined.

There are two fundamental things required for a scapegoat system to thrive. First, the system must be in place. There must be a need to have someone or something to take the guilty, sins and scruples of the people away. A conduit between man and his conscience, a tool to make a man feel that his deeds are not as gruesome. Or that they have been erased/forgiven thus neither God nor karma can revisit those sins on them. Although we no longer live in the olden days, this system still prevails in society. A good example is the current situation in Nigeria, where the presidential candidate for the labour party Mr Peter Obi has been designated the saviour of the nation. Alas! I fear he is nothing but a scapegoat. Atonement for the many sins of the past and the present.

The system has certain characteristics, one , it excludes anyone that does not fit in with the exisrung modus operandi in place. Two, iy is a rootless as well as ruthless system. Devouring both the fruits (benefits) and seeds (foundation) of the system. It also celebrates results rather than methods. Mr Peter Obi from all indications is a man who does the opposite. He wants systems that outlast a class, a group, a tenure, or a generation. A system that does not want to wash its hands of its guilt or wrongdoing. But learn from it. It is completely impossible to rid the world of guilt or the process of placing guilt on someone else’s shoulder. However, it is possible to create a system where a scapegoat is not a desired option. This can only happen when a system has its resources and demands/expectations evenly paired. For instance, two managers, four general assistants and one receptionist are required to smoothly run a business every day of the week. We will assume that this number of staff is decided to run the business at the peak hours. This means that at a less busy time, less staff might be required. Regardless of this, it must be understood that the office or system would be set up to fail if someone decides to run it with either less staff or with a different mixture of skills. For example hiring one manager, four general assistants and two receptionists, might seem adequate as the number of staff is accurate, but it, unfortunately, leaves certain parts uninsured and others unduly fortified. Creating the perfect opportunity for a scapegoat to arise, should the system not run smoothly.

The above scenario creates room for undue or maladjusted interpersonal skills to thrive. One that has less to do with the overall objective of the system/business or organisation in view and more to do with personal likes, dislikes and opinions. This system would make it easy for cliques to arise and for other variables which should normally stay on the parameters of the system to become the heart of it. Thus, elevating the people above the system. Whilst this is not a bad thing, in so much as “things were made for man and not man for things”, it can, unfortunately, become dangerous if the wrong people are at the core. This sad reality is the sorry state of Nigeria and a lot of organisations around the world. Systems that bear no resemblance to the original sketch on which it was built, as piece by piece people have changed the original with alternatives that are more individual serving than having a wider reach in view. This makes it a different system; its expectations and resources are altered. This is why placing all hope in one man might not be the best approach. For if or when he fails another will replace him. It will remain fallible unless the people refuse to move the structures to suit personal gain. This brings us to the second factor that creates a thriving system for the emergence of scapegoats; people. Whether they are leaders or followers.

In the series ‘The Last Kingdom Cnut answers Ragnar the fearless’s question regarding the worth of Æthelwold’, saying “his worth is in his ability to drip poison into every ear”. As simple or as mindless as it sounds, the aforementioned is the very backbone on which systems are re-engineered, broken or simply destroyed. As earlier mentioned, a system is made for man, but man is the only thing that can determine if the system will stand and endure. According to Winston, B. and Patterson, K. (2006), leadership is a major factor that determines how people fit into a system. But for this to materialise the leader must thoroughly know the system and uphold the system. This perhaps is the bases for which many people herald or advocate for Mr Peter Obi to become president. The hope is that a good leader will spearhead a good system. This is an ideology shared by Winston, B. and Patterson, K. (2006), in their definition of a leader, they assert that not only does a leader know how people should fit into the system, but a leader also deals equitably and supports diversity amongst his followers. This type of leadership also fosters the individual growth of each follower, encouraging them to take risks and innovate, (Winston, B. E. and Patterson, K. 2006). Under such leadership, when properly executed the chances of a scapegoat emerging is slim.

In addition to the above, (a good leader), there must be good followers. People who refute the “dripping of poison into ears”. People who hold the system above the individual. The task is not an easy one, it is often even difficult to identify when one has become caught up in the words that start the rot in the foundation of every system. From the above example regarding the number of staff required to run a business to the example of Æthelwold who exemplifies the spread of rot that destroys the system. Both show that a failure on one side or a gap on one side creates lapses and births a new system in place of what should be. There must first be a lapse in the system, an unbalancing of the scales. This creates the room through which the oil that destroys everything starts to drip, slowly but surely. But to achieve its maximum effect it must have willing vessels; leaders who through direct or indirect means encourage the spread. Followers who revel in the safety provided in the number of shared drips that oil the ear.

In summary, it is my opinion that the scapegoat system was replaced with Christ, to ensure that the corruptible and fallible arms of man do not taint the new system. Each man under Christ is given access to admit his guilt, ensuring that his heart and God alone know the truth of his intent. Similarly, systems need to be built in a way that safeguards the system as much as possible from man’s fallible nature. Every man is much the same as the other, fallible in different ways and through different means. Often, in need of a scapegoat to justify his actions. If he is also allowed to buy the conscience of others over then a new system emerges and the scapegoat system becomes successful. And will often find a head to fit into a noose.

Au revoir 2022

The year of all years.

Tears a fountain of relief, a faucet for pent up weariness.

Heart palpitations a plenty.

Fears like racing hordes from hell.

Unswerving doubt a cloak of comfort.

But…

Hope in the voice of a mother (s) rises …

I have been blessed to have several women who in the past and till today continue to nurture me. They pray with me, they advise me. They encourage me to go beyond praying to doing. They call my mind back to the multitude of reasons to be thankful. To count what I have, rather than miss what never was or is not yet. They make me live in the now. I love them.

For all my mum’s thank you for reminding me that now, is all we really have.

Echos in the voice of a friend (s) beckons …

I am thankful for these ladies, they listen, they hear me and although many miles seperate us they see me. For them I am grateful. When stressed I can hear them say, you are not alone. I have got you. I have gone through this, I am going through similar. This cannot end you. This is a phase. I hear them and I sleep, to wake with a resolve to be better.

Laughter in a cord of three holds tight ….

Two of three

Where do i start with this. Sisters by blood, by heart. They stand like amazons with a whip to shape my over thinking mind into focus. They correct me. They defend me. They shield my mind when it seeks to spiral out of control. We trade stories of all the craziness around us and keep each other sane. We consciously choose to stand despite our differences. A cord of three, our bond holds fast.

Trust in the steadfastness of oaks, comforts me….

I am thankful for the men in my life. Like an oak tree they are strong within as without. In a world that allows them leeway to be dubious, i am most thankful that they stand as people of insight, integrity and faith. May the father keep you and sheild you from the axe of the wicked.

Pleasure in the eyes of youth, renews me …

Bright as light

What can I say, this holds my world together. Your smile illuminates my world. Your tears jar me from all depth of angst. For you see, in your eyes i see a thousand tomorrows and yet many todays. So I want your memories to be sweet but not sickly so. Sour but never rancid. I want your life to be balanced. For if your inner voice holds sure, the world can stand on it’s head and you will know without a doubt that you are standing right side up. You will know whose you are and why you are.

Glow with confidence

Then …

I remember that i also brought something to the table. I remember that I also listened as I was listened to. I prayed for others as I have been prayed for me. I remember that no matter how small, i brought what I could every time I could. I find strength in this.

Finally ….

I am so very grateful to everyone who donated to the kids running page. It made a difference to someone’s christmas this winter. And the lessons from this endeavour is still ongoing. The kids haven’t completely grasped the concept that money does not come freely all the time. You need to add value or create value. Once again thank you so much for your donations. Our page is now closed. We raised a total of £310 before gift aid. So proud of my community of friends & family, you are beyond awesome.

And I am deeply grateful to you my reading audience for staying loyal over the years. Thank you.

Hope the new year sees us soaring in the air like the bird.

Au revoir 2022, I know I wll see you slightly in 2023. The years don’t really change but with God’s help we will be better.

Thanks Again.

Not planted.

Wild roses. Planted by the wind, nurtured by mother nature’s capricious temperament. Like stubborn weeds they bloom in-spite of admiration or its lack thereof. Seeking connection with something familiar. Surrounded by what looks nothing like it. Struggling within itself, “why am I here?” “Why didn’t I get to No 64’s garden, I mean it is only two doors down?” Refusing to smile, ignorant of the pleasure its’ fragrance brings to a wanderer. Blindfolded to the reality that winter harbours same fate for one and all of them including those at No 64. A wild rose is still a rose. Photo prompt courtsey of Trish Nankeville.
Thank you Rochelle for hosting the writing event Friday fictiooneers. To rule is to write a 100 word piece in response to the provided picture. Please click the link to visit Rochelle’s blog. It will be worth your while. And click this link to read other stories and write ups. Some times we get stuck in difficult places and the stress makes us forget our blessings. We envy those being favoured or nurtured by the system. We begrudge them that blessing of famililarity and comfort that we forget what we also carry within and the blessing it can also be. It is indeed great to have people pour into our lives but sometimes we need to pour into others even when our tanks are slightly low. Keep the faith. Chin up and you will see thin pockets of blessings enriching your life. But you will only see it if you open your eyes.