crap I say, entertainment, humour, life

For the love of peeling potatoes

A potato saved me today.

Actually, to be completely and embarrassingly honest, it was a bag of potatoes.

and a potato peeler
and Dean Martin

Let me begin by saying I owe you all an apology…I have not been myself lately. For those of you who’ve known me long enough, I’m sure you’ll agree that my latest posts have been a little out of character. For those who’ve only just met me…I am NOT, in fact, a psychotic pessimist. I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you…

I don’t even think I wrote those posts.
I’m serious.

Get out your tissues, as I’m about to tell you how bad life has been for me lately, how stressful my job is, how tired and emotionally unstable I’ve been…

….oh, that’s right, I’ve already done that in my last few posts.

ok, well I’ll tell you about the potatoes then, ok? I promise it has a happy ending and not a single “F'” word in sight!

I think there is a reason potatoes are called the “humble spud”. I realised tonight, when I got home from work unusually early for once, that I have not cooked my family a meal in about a fortnight. Oh God I can hear all the cries of “bad mother” and “selfish woman” now!!!

Don’t get me wrong, my family has eaten (as far as I know) but as busy lives tend to create a need for instant meals and restaurant outings, I haven’t cut, peeled, blended, baked and “1950’s house-wife’d” in as long as I can remember.

And I think that it is much more important than I realised.

Usually, whilst preparing the family meal, thrown together in haste after rushing in the door head crammed full of work stress and urgent issues I can’t let go of, I would listen to jazz or “Chillout Session” (insert relevant copyright here) in the hopes of becoming instantly “relaxed”.

But tonight I turned on the “crooners” channel and I found myself smiling.

As Dean Martin serenaded my softer side, with tales of love and longing, romance and feelings most of us living today probably don’t understand…I began to feel relaxed…genuinely relaxed. The kind of relaxed you only get from feeling completely safe, loved and “home”.

And as I listened….and hummed….and swayed…gently in time to the familiar, timeless tunes…pulling the potatoe peeler firmly and assuredly over the potatoes, I felt I was slipping back in time…

Back to a simpler time
Back to a more grateful time
To a time less stressful…

I prepared the entire meal in that state of mind. Feeling grateful for the food and for the simple pleasure of being able to prepare it. For the job that provides the money for the food.

My job is still there, my stresses are still there if I choose to see them. The hustle and bustle and imaginary emergencies are still at my disposal. But I think this view of life suits me far better.

So, even though I really do like Jazz and Chillout, and even though I don’t half mind being taken out for fancy dinners, and because (actually) I HATE mashed potatoes…I think I will be having spuds with Dean Martin more often.

Try it sometime 🙂

keep it real and keep smiling

Mandy xx

life, Poetry

Over exposed

Sometimes the world outside gets so loud it forces you inwards to face your own fears. We all have them…our fears, insecurities and doubts that can be triggered by other people or circumstances. The temptation can be fierce to break down right there and then. But we stay strong, hold it in and sometimes create a nightmare of turmoil and anxiety within.

Fearful we will be exposed for who we really are.

Who we all are. Human

Over exposed, heavy heart…
emotionally worn and hung out
Tears on the spill, cried by a need
Will be dried by the need and wrung out

Dull, empty void, the head is a Space…
Where happy thoughts turn dreary
Voices unheard, mind numb disarray
Alone. surrounded. weary

Questions intrude….no answers are found
sadness and madness implodes
Confusion invades a battling mind
Silence wins and explodes

Running, escaping…invisible fear
tormentor well at the heel,
Conspicuous conflict, battled in silence
Of who and what is not real

Pound in the head, assassin attacks
Fighting and fleeing the source
Invisible hunter, it’s bred from within
And fear will direct it’s own course

This is me, keeping it real
Mandy x

crap I say, life, Poetry

I’m an asshole too, just a slightly more enlightened one

“To feel safe in our own skin
To feel sure of our own convictions
To feel strong amidst the chaos

To see things as they really are
To be a part yet be apart…”

Tonight it became crystal clear to me, in my post work-dinner semi-tipsy state…feeling lost and far from home surrounded by would be friends and accidental potential accomplices, that people are, to be perfectly honest, when all is said and done…
(how do I put this without offending?)

assholes

Not intentionally, not even accidentally but simply because we are wired that way.

Now, before everyone gets all up in my grill telling me what an asshole I am for saying that….(ironic much?) please remember…I said people….and last time I checked (although it has been a while since I last looked, so who knows…it may have changed) I too, am a “people” so I include myself in this truthful – if somewhat derogatory -generalization….

We bitch, we moan, we find fault with every thing and everyone. We take sides,we power trip our way in and out of things, and when all is said and done we try to act like we aren’t in fact just desperate human beings waiting for a moment of recognition and understanding.

Yes, even sweet lil ol’ me!

Tonight though, initially entranced and tempted by the endless stories of “she did”, “he said”, the power struggles and personality clashes I soon witnessed a strange thing happening….I didn’t buy in to it! I didn’t take sides, I didn’t feel hate for those around me who were so ugly in their efforts for peer domination. I didn’t feel a need to save anyone. I didn’t blindly take on board others negativity or defend my position even when provoked. I let the various bad energies around that table moan and sigh, clash and battle, escalate and crash…and I just witnessed it.

I was comfortable in my own separateness and my own complete humanness that allowed me to simultaneously be a part of the scenery and yet apart from the scene.

Oh, the joy of being able to choose silence! Oh the bliss of peaceful surrender and the blossoming of inner quiet……..it’s like wrapping your head in bubble wrap and just vaguely being aware of all the negativity surrounding you. You can still see it’s happening, you can hear the muffled ugliness, but you are unable to contribute or even completely take it all in…

What a relief!!

To realise that it doesn’t HAVE to be a drama. It doesn’t have to cause chaos or disharmony in your world. It really can just “be”…..

I feel totally liberated!
And do you know what? I might just make this a habit!

Oh, but don’t worry, I’m still very much capable of being an asshole.

I’m just choosing not to be.

Life’s so much nicer this way…

Mandy xx