Jelly beans

[Empathy .... or the lack of it!]
 
Red ones .... green ones ..... purple and blue

white ones .... black ones .... beans of all hue

My daughter loves em all

They're sweet .... crunchy .... soft and munchy

they melt in your mouth with such delight

They always go down without even a fight

She wants em!  There's no doubt

she shreds the packet ... total rout!

Which colour next? 

"That one!" says she

as she pounces and grabs

The funny thing is that

there's just one colour she disdains

It's the black ones  ... all aniseed and licorice

All her short life it's been the same

But today everything has changed

It's the black ones she wants

and the others are left

What a fickle thing she is.....

.... and so are we

We change our mind .... our desires ....

with never a thought about why.....

or how the change will affect others.

Oh would some power

the giftie gie us

to see ourselves

as other see us

or.....

Oh would some power

the giftie gie us

to feel another's heart

as we feel our own

© Ian Croft January 2019

The cat

It's probably someone's favourite pet
.. it's loved and cared for all the time.
The fur glistens.... and it probably purrs
like a vibrator on top speed

But as I passed it on the road
only the back legs were vibrating
The fur was messed and it was not pretty

I was glad that another driver had stopped
so that I wasn't faced with the awful choice
I could drive on.... knowing that the other guy
had to decide what to do

What to do when the dollar decides
if this bundle should live or die
Or even if that choice exists!

.... and I hope that when my time comes
and I'm a quivering bundle
of misery and pain
that the decision on my demise
is one of compassion.... to end the pain

© Ian Croft January 2019

Cruel friend

The past is a cruel friend
Each time I see a reminder of days long ago
I relive those moments....
I see the faces and I hear the voices
of family and friends that share that past.

But memories are a one way mirror...
I can see those people in my mind
but they can't see me
and they don't even know
that my thoughts are looking behind.

And as I relive those times in the past
my mind walks alongside me
and points out all my errors.
Why did you say that? Why didn't you say this?

Nothing in my past is safe
from the relentless inquisition
and I am ever bound to that excruciating rack
that tortures me me with "Why?"
Why did I do that?
What would today look like
if I had just.....

If I could turn off those memories, would I?
Without those memories, the past would lose its colour.... lose its taste.
Do I want a dull and lifeless past?

No..... for each memory which chastises me

there are ten memories that reward me
with the pleasure of a remembered voice
a feeling.... a sound....
Life has been so good

© Ian Croft January 2019

Memory

One of the great things
about being human
is being able to remember.
To remember those precious moments
that light up our life......
the moments we treasure....
We bring them out
and relive the pleasure
.... once again we feel the sensations
and the moment is ours.

Memory is what we are
... it's how we function
It's how we learn
and how we yearn....

But memory has a bad side too
It can be a curse for us
when we can't turn it off
When the nightmare won't leave
When pain is the memory
and it just won't stop....

© Ian Croft January 2019

Celebrate

Let's all celebrate!
Light up the barbie.... crack a tinnie!
It's a night to forget the day's problems
and the problems of the year....
Maybe I might even forget my fear!

.....  wait.... what did I just say?
Forget my fear?  What am I thinking of?
I have no fear! No fear at all....

Fear that I might remember the people
who have died so that I can celebrate.
The people who've been shot....
.... who've been raped and tortured
so that I can celebrate.... 

The families torn apart....
.... children stolen from their parents

.... Yes! Let's forget about all that stuff.
It all happened a long time ago....
It's nothing to do with me.... So let's celebrate!
I don't want to remember.....
.... that the beautiful land that I call my own
was stolen at gunpoint....

I don't want to remember. 

© Ian Croft January 2019

Digger 2 (see "Digging" Jan12)

The other day I talked with a friend who also digs
She pointed out that when we dig
The hole we leave behind
Gives us more room for love in our lives

I hope this is so
Cos I really need that

There are days where the digger
cries out in anguish as he digs
The hole can be such a lonely place
and the sounds echo around
and remind him that the hole
is empty apart from himself.

And as he digs,
the hole is getting deeper ....
and it's getting bigger....

He builds a roof over the hole
to stop the rain that's falling down.

People come to look at the digger
and they see the roof....
and think that all is fine.

They don't see the aching abyss
underneath that pretty roof. 

© Ian Croft January 2019

The Knight (an ode to men)

In every  one of we men

there lives a bold knight

For some your armor is black as the night

For others your armor is glistening white

Some have bright polished armor

that reflects the sun and stuns us with its beauty

and for others that armor is dull and colourless

For each of us the armor is the self that we present to the world

and our armor has been crafted during the journey we  live

For some the journey through life has made black armor

we have been hurt so badly ... and now we hide behind our dark armor

For another the white armor is our self righteousness

that we use as a shield to keep others away

and the polished armor shows the amazing work

that has gone into building their life .... they really try hard

Sometimes the armor glows .... and we all look on in awe

but for many the armor is dull and tired

and shows the weariness of the soul

They have struggled and fought and run out of fight

they only hope that they can last through the night

But as each of us rides our valiant charger

down the highway of life

There will always come a time where some dreadful event

will make us fall off our horse

.... fall to the ground in panic and pain

No longer do we ride high on our horse  .... protected from the world ...

..... and then we discover that our precious armor is too heavy!

What was once our protection has become our curse!

We can't get up!  ... we flop from side to side ..... no use .....

Like a turtle we try to roll over  ... so we can get our arms under

but that doesn't work either!  What now?

Eventually we will realise that we can't help ourselves ....

to get back on our feet we must have a helper

... who can remove our armor

Take off the armor ... take off the weight ....

.....and then we can stand!

And when we lose that weight

we realise that we didn't actually need the armor

Without that hard heavy shell we can fly through life

So who are you?  Have you had your fall yet? 

Is your armor off?   .... so that you're waiting to help

the next knight who  falls?

Or is your fall still in the future?

© Ian Croft January 2019 

Eight days

We were only together for eight days

yet it seems like an ocean has engulfed us

The wave rolled in

and bowled me over

A part of me was found

A part that I never knew had been lost

My heart sang with the goddess

as we shared the song

The wave rolled in

and took me into itself

.... the Path is one for us

as we swim in that ocean

We are tiny droplets ....

becoming part of the ocean

Though we  will lose ourselves in that ocean

we will still be ourself in some way

You have walked ahead

and now I can follow your lead

You will continue to lead

and I will follow ....

we all will follow 

And as I follow you

I will never forget you

© Ian Croft January 2019

Makarrata

For countless millennia ... before counted time began ....
my people are part of this land
We are this land.... this land is us
The brothers shared the land ... coolbardie yongka kwenda
..... and so many others .... we are equal with them
We breathe this land
.... from the gentle winds by the sea
.... to the frigid morning desert wind
the land breathes life into us

And so our breath gives back to this land
The land is me ..... and I am the land

But wait .... in the long "day" .... the time that we have been this land.....
the last few minutes has seen a disturbance in the land
The rivers dry up.... the fish die .... the brothers are going
.... the land tells me that the spirit is hurting

I am hurting .... my people are hurting....

Join me in makarrata to heal the land.

© Ian Croft January 2019  (Permission given for use with acknowledgement)

Random thoughts

The nature of self

What makes me tick?
Why do I keep on going?
I look at my daughter
and I know I oughter
be there for her
when she needs me.

I look at my love
and I think "Heaven above!"
You need me..... and so I'll be
There for you through thick and thin
You need me... You need me.

So what makes me tick?
It's being connected....
I think that's what it is.

..... but it's also about addictions!
Most of us can be addicted.... and we are each addicted to something.
It might be harmless.... or it might be dangerous.
We need to know just what our weakness is.

Hah..... I'm addicted to people!
I'll do anything for my next hit
of 'connection'

..... by talk....or touch.... or message..... or sms..... or WhatsApp..... or KIK..... or FB..... you name it and I'm in it!

Why?  

Is it a constant search to not be alone?

The process of thinking about this 

is the "First Path" ..... understanding what it is

.... and this leads to the "Second Path"

.....understanding the causes of the first

© Ian Croft January 2019

W

 [.... a playful moment...]

This morning I Was Wondering about W.......
 it seemed that a large number of important Words start With W!   
Woman for one! (..... doesn't get much more important in my World!).
.... and Wank...... such an important and rewarding activity..... 

and Waffle.... We Waste so much of our time With that....

....but With! 

.....it can mean connectedness, not alone.
We can be With someone..... We can Work With something
..... What a magnificent Word
..... in its absence We Would all be alone.
.... an island in a sea of Woe. 

...and it's Wise! .... it sits at the end of the alphabet
and Watches all the other letters
..... and then W must talk to the other letters.
... cos they Work together ...... they cooperate.....

We do that too! Perhaps We Watch W in action
.... and We Weave his magic into our Ways? 

....but he can be Wilfully Wrong.
.... and in the same Way,
We can Wander aWay from caring compassion
When We try to Wack people into our own Way. .

... so.... Watch.... Wuv Wunanuver.
.... have a Wunerful day! 

© Ian Croft January 2019

The monster

I live with a monster......   No! Not that one!
The Monster that I'm thinking of
is one that changes form
so that he's never quite the same.

Sometimes he looks like a blanket
that is incredibly heavy
and I just can't get out from under.....
Other times he's like a grey mist
that clings to my face and
no matter how I try to brush him off
he just flows back..... like quicksand.....
he sucks me down....

And the Monster can pretend to be
things that I ache for.....
I long for a tender touch..... "You bewdy!"  says he
"I'll take that shape for a while."
and so he becomes the very thing
that I long for..... and he sinks his claws
Into my mind.

And so I want that monster as much as
I hate that monster.

The Monster has been my companion for such a long time.

© Ian Croft January 2019

Digging

I'm digging a hole....
A very deep hole . 
It's a hole into the hurts of my past.
I've been digging for a long time and the hole is deep and wide.
As I've been digging I've found many bits of junk
that I really don't want.
I've thrown them out of the hole and I don't want to see them again!
But as I found this junk, I understood how the bad bits were important to making the whole.

As well as the junk, I have often found treasures in the hole....
and these have been carefully cleaned, polished and studied. 
These treasures will be kept within easy reach
so that I can look at them often.
And I'll show the treasures to other people who are digging their own holes.
.... and we can share the stories.

Sometimes my digging has been done with a shovel.... slow and meticulous. 
At other times I've borrowed an excavator.... and the digging has been quick with amazing results. 
But at other times I've dug with a teaspoon..... it's been agonizing and hard.
But through it all I've kept on digging. Don't stop digging!

Where will this all finish?  How deep will the hole be?
I don't know.  I guess it might be that one day I stand back and say
"That's enough!" .... there might be an end to the stuff that I'm digging.....
or the hole might have become something of value in itself.....
or the hole might have become a lesson for other diggers....
But for now I'll keep digging.

It might end up that I've dug a foundation for some new structure.....
or I might use the hole to bury something that deserves to be hidden....
Regardless of what the hole was..... or what the hole is.....
or what the hole will become....
Just KEEP ON DIGGING.

© Ian Croft January 2019

Hold on

Hold on to the memory
Hold on to the trust

Hold on to the memory
You know.... you know.... you know you must

Hold..... to the memory
Hold... hold.... hold..... to the memory


When you're down
An oh so lonesome
Feelin like you been kicked ... kicked in the guts
When there's just.... no.... way
For.... your..... heart to breathe

Then you gotta hold.....
..... hold onto the memory
Then you gotta hold.....
..... hold onto the trust

It'll give you faith..... to carry on
Cos carry on you must
It'll give you hope..... to carry on
Cos carry on you must

Yes you gotta hold......
..... hold onto the memory
Yes you gotta hold.....
..... hold onto the trust

© Ian Croft January 2019

Back to Bali

When the road down the mountainside becomes too rough

When it all gets a bit hard to take

How can we go back?

Should we go back?

Back up the mountain to the peak ....

Look out once again

over the distant past 

Think about the future

Isn't it wonderful that there is a future!  

For so long, the future has been a grey cloud ....

A cloud that I hoped would end soon. 

Now the cloud has lifted and the future

is a distant shining vista.

.... and while I'm on the mountain peak

I'll remember the place where each of us 

cast away those things that did not serve us...

... and I'll remember the story that I cast away.

How the words of the story have dissolved into the ocean....

So perhaps it is wrong to think of the road being "down" the mountain?

Perhaps a better way to think of the way forward ....

... is that it is  a flight!

The way to the future is by taking wing .... Flying 

Leave the rough patches where they lie .....on the roadway below

While we fly above

The air beneath our wings is the care and concern that we have for each other ......

Lift me up my brothers!

© Ian Croft January 2019

Depression

(Mindfulness.... acknowledge my depression as a constant companion..... don't let it control)

My mate sits on my shoulder
and I was not very much older
Than him when he first hitched a ride

He's been with me all that time

At first he gripped with very sharp claws
and the longer he held the deeper they bit
Till it seemed like he was me
and I was his pain

As time flowed on and life's stabbing blows
were absorbed into my mind
so my mate chortled with glee
"I've got you" says he
You can't get away

It felt never-ending, that ghastly ride.
His laughter drowned out
all the words of those who would help
He dragged me down.... and killed my hope

Long years passed
and the repeated words of hope

from those who would help
gradually sank into my mind

The words that seemed best
are the words that show
that this dreadful mate
is not me! 

He is not me.... that ghastly vulture
sitting on my shoulder.... is not me

I can accept that he is there
but he does not own me.....

He does not control my life
nor control my mind
Poor thing..... he needs help too
Help to calm his pain
till he can find that he is mine

He does not own me. 

© Ian Croft January 2019

The pits

It's a rotten thing when you come down off the high
When the zing of feeling that all is good
Wears off..... and "reality" hits again

I was riding oh so high
Now it feels so hard to move

The depths of now are as far down
As the high was high

The winter of the low is so hard to take
After the sunshine of the high

© Ian Croft January 2019