Friday, 29 October 2010

What's happening in your life?

This week I'm dedicating my blog to a group I belong to called ‘Warrior Sisters’ Recently I nervously shared something personal with the group and the only way I can describe their response to my disclosure was that one by one they automatically engulfed me in love and acceptance as well as the brightest fiercest light that I could feel as it embraced me within it's healing energy. It came at the right time and I’m glad to say I’m still feeling it today. I’ll never forget their warm loving reaction, my constant hope is that I’ll always be there for them, should they ever need me.

Oh how I love to write about happenings in life, past, present and future... Sharing and caring about life, love, living, laughing and crying, experiences we live each and every day.

On occasion I’ve found a simple experience will bring from within a huge rush of feelings which follows in opening up new and old memories, incorporating wonderful familiar faces. Usually it's people who’ve been in my life and meant something special, but for whatever reason are no longer with me treading life’s extraordinary path.

It happened this morning (Fri) on my way into work... driving the 40min journey, whilst listening to tunes a memorable song blasted out and hey presto... I shivered as I felt myself pulled in another time warp. I became bombarded with good, bad, sad and happy recollections and just because of one silly song on a rainy work day morning. Recognisable faces floated before me, I realised as painful as some memories can be I was glad I’d known all of these individuals... at the same time I sensed profound sadness because unfortunately they were no longer in my life.

In addition, I knew it was about time I stopped beating myself up about things, since I felt I was not there for some people and if I’m honest I became conscious long ago about that very sad fact and I suppose the big burning question is... who was there for me? I appreciate that question doesn't right a wrong. I just comprehend; one cannot keep beating them-selves up forever. My strong sense of fair-play, shouts at me, responsibility should be shared equally as I also know only to well that this wouldn’t ever sit right with some people. I’m just clear in the bigger scheme of things, when we close our eyes for that last and final time, all of this won’t even matter.

It’s not all gloomy doom, I also managed a smile especially when I thought of others... happy, beautiful memories, happy times. There are a couple of people who were once in my life, whose impact on me was phenomenal ... they will always be that warm embrace you feel when you remember something beautifully gorgeous... but, sometimes as we all instinctively know, it’s better not to maintain friendships, given the moving on syndrome... however, nothing or no one can ever take away precious memories recalled with clarity. This brings some well-known words to mind...

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.

They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.

They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realise is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
— Unknown

Just to confirm, they were all meant to be... with love and acceptance we've all moved on.

As some of you know this has been a particularly hard year for my family and I. Unfortunately the affects are not over but I’m still able to feel joyfully happy in sharing with you that the brightest light in my darkest tunnel is that my beautiful girl, is having a baby... I’m going to be a grandmother, a responsibility I’ll take seriously. All the living and learning I’ve accomplished in my life is going to be put to very good use, as I’ve already done with my own beautiful girl.

I experienced a significant dream, I feel I’ve already magically met my grandchild, I know the baby’s gender and something noteworthy and unusual happens in the labour room. But, for now I want to hang on to that information and share another time. I will say this if my dream is to be believed, I have witnessed the baby’s birth, held and met the bluest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. So if my life proceeds as I wish, I know I’ll be a big part of my grandchild’s future.

Despite negatives in life I’m gloriously thankful; I have somehow managed not to lose the absolute ability to appreciate life, and love with people in this wondrous world we inhabit.

Signed, sealed and kissed by AngelJane

Thursday, 21 October 2010

It's Good To Be Happy...

Oh the thrill of being responsible for making someone HAPPY! One of my favourite magazines is the well-known ‘Cosmopolitan’ this morning I was able to have a break and whilst reading Cosmopolitan, I found myself thinking about possible future Blog features...

I thought to myself, what to share with my readers?

In the magazine I spied an article on being happy... It was about a website According to my magazine the website helps to banish bad weather blues... Ultimately reminding us all that everyday can contain at least one sunny moment. So as you all know, I do try to find interesting snippets about things that will hopefully bring smile’s to faces and yes I know, I know... I also end up bringing a tear to your eye, but in my world today it’s ‘SMILEY DAY’ so I decided to check it out...

I immediately saw is a new venture from 'LIFECLUBS' (personal improvement workshops) I observed and read with interest some lovely postcards sent in anonymously about the best thing that happened to individual people in their day. I also wondered whether it got its idea from another website I’ve heard about called, which works in a similar way. Individuals send postcards in anonymously sharing their darkest secrets...

I totally agree with ‘Physiologies magazine’ (another favourite mag) that reading what other people consider to be the best part of their day can help us appreciate the good things when they happen to us. And in my own book, anything that helps us feel good about anything is well worth a look… :)

Sunday, 17 October 2010

30. Domestic Service. Our Senator is Missing...

When all around you moves in slow motion and your brain disengages... you must know you’re body's in shock and the time's come for you to stop... breathe slowly, so that your able to concentrate on reality, focus on the event, quickly ensure everyone's accounted for and safe... But unfortunately, that’s not always the case. Sadly the senators PA, Jonathon and security crew soon discovered...

Jonathon’s ashen face reveals all as he stares disbelievingly at the carnage before him. A walkie-talkie's been thrust into his grasp. He spots Jake lying in a heap at the back end of the car, he’s not moving, it doesn’t look good. Moving over to Crystal he kneels beside her. Into the communicator he frantically hisses a request for more back up and demands ambulance services hurry-up. Gently he talks to her. Within her eyes he observes distress as she stares over at Jake. It’s not hard to see the guy’s in big damn trouble.

The whirring noise over-head deafens, Jonathan can’t hear himself think. Security floods the area. Police helicopters circle the property.

Crystal unbelievably tries to get up; pushing her back gently he hears her commanding him to listen...

“6ft 2” medium build, brown eyes, head covered with a black balaclava, eyebrows brown, black faded leather jacket, blue jeans faded-black t-shirt a Pepsi emblem on the front across the chest” she stops to breath, “suspect wore grubby white trainers with a hole in the right toe piece, tip of his little finger missing on his left hand, on his right hand forefinger, a silver band”

Jonathon parrot like, repeats word for word her observations into the shiny black walkie-talkie. Amid the chaos he guiltily realises if he had any doubts about Crystal’s professional abilities, then he needn’t have.

Crystal cries Jake’s name out loud.

“Over here” Jonathon screams to ambulance personnel.

When he’s satisfied Jake and Crystal are in the ambulance, he moves quickly into the house.

Second in command of security after Jake, Alex Mahoney steps forward,

“Sorry Jonathon this is a no-go area”

“The senator and his family, are they ok?”

An uncomfortable silence follows; it penetrates his heart causing ice cold needles to sting.

“Tell me there ok for god’s sake” he demands.

“The senator’s missing, according to the security diary, Kristina and the children are with grandparents, we’re still waiting for that to be confirmed”

Alex stops to assess Jonathon’s take on things then continues.

“It appears on their return Crystal and Jake interrupts.”

Just as Alex‘s hand-piece crackles into life, he brushes a large hairy hand across his bald patch above greying hair.

Jonathon falls against the wall. Images of he and the senator playing poker emerge from inside his brain.

“Jonathon, as the senators PA we’re going to need your input, unfortunately there are two further fatalities in the kitchen, we believe it to be the maid and cook?”

“God no, no how the hell can this be happening, security was stepped up, tightened, even increased due to recent threats”

Without revealing classified information, it appears we have a leak from within which is currently being investigated.” Alex studies Jonathon’s body language, “you gonna be ok?” He asks.

Jonathon doesn’t answer instead; he squeezes his eyes shut. When he re-opens them Alex is gone. Walking towards the kitchen, the chaos is apparent, vases smashed and strewn across the floor as if a struggle’s taken place; Jonathon knew the senator wouldn’t have gone without a fight.

The kitchen door's wide open, two deceased females lie close to one another, blood's splattered across the kitchen units as if they've been callously shot at point black range. Dear god they must have seen it coming thought Jonathon as he crouched on his haunches, elbows on his knees cradling a head incapable of digesting the horrific scene before him. In all of his life he’d never felt so helpless and alone.

“Can we help you sir?” came a warm southern voice.

Looking up he saw four suits surrounding him.

“Yeah, I need to get to the hospital”


Here’s one conscientious blogger who'll never get tired of advising her fellow human inhabitants... To change our world, we have to look within to make those changes we want to see happen in our world...

During the past year I’ve learned much about living & writing. I know what it means to live, breath and feel my own writing through words & thoughts and by regularly embracing my imagination. I know only too well what it brings into my life and I'm aware of how it makes me feel right through to my core. Over the past 24months I’ve healed so much... probably much more so than in the last 30 years. I sense that’s because I’ve turned full circle and found the opportunity and inclination to write. Consequently I can observe and truly feel life’s valuable lessons.

For me writing has brought a blend of creativity and imagination which I feel has somehow magically developed my storytelling skills. I see from reading others, we all possess a wonderful style that I presume reflects important parts of our personalities. I find it very interesting when I read my own work back; I distinctly hear my voice with all its quirks and twists. One of my wishes is that when others read me, they like the style and sense the genuine sincerity from my tone.

I also hope as a writer when I scribe be it fact or fiction, I want to reflect my own style and attitude as it's personally felt at the time of me writing. I recognise when writing, my whole thought process and attitude can be extreme depending of course on the subject matter... For instance, I've found when I write fiction I’m able to see and sense the very place I write about and I know I’ve reported this before, but the characters are as real to me as my own family. So if my readers comprehend my writing style as I’ve written it... I know my story/article will affect them, which is just one of the many reasons I enjoy writing.

I realise I’m not the best writer in the world and although initially that was extremely important to me, over the months I’ve happily discovered it’s not as important as I once thought. The important thing for me is that I am real and write to the very best of my ability, enabling readers to enjoy and get something from whatever I’ve written. I especially want them to hear my voice and feel its tone. Depending on what the subject is, I’d also be pleased to know they hear within my style the objective getting the informal and personal flow. I hope they get the informative or affective style and essentially detect the attitude from within the pages.

So when you think of writers just sitting down and tapping away or burning the ink along blank pages... I think I'm right in saying for most of us it’s a much more important job. We consider our readers and the affect our words, thoughts and ideas may have on them. I very often hear that words are soooooooooooo powerful... they can boost, energise and give hope... they empower and undo... The power of having the right words at the right time as we all know can be phenomenal and if said at the right time can be healing.

I’ve also read quite a bit recently on individuals encouraging us to be controversial, challenging with words as well as a firm attitude. Although I don’t disagree with using these skills should one need them, I do disagree with flaunting oneself in a manner that comes across as aggressive or even hostile, possibly giving the view to others of being un-compromising.

This week I have been accused of being ‘too soft’ when faced with this accusation I smiled. Personally... as I've already stated in a previous blog, I’d much rather work with honey then vinegar and through the years I’ve witnessed more positive results my way, not just from actions but with my words. I decided long ago I'd much rather be soft then hold a cold hard heart. Unfortunately I’ve witnessed people with this quality and its my opinion they do nothing in terms of their best for the people they work with.... I cannot over empathise this point enough but, it can be done by simply remembering, no matter who we converse, interact or support... just gently remind yourself, this could be your daughter, sister, mother, aunty, niece, son, uncle, dad, brother.

Everyone, no matter whom it is... is unconditionally important!


Sunday, 10 October 2010

29. Domestic Service... Togetherness.

When a window of opportunity presents itself, Crystal finally grabs the bull by both its horns and makes a liberating clean slate. She must express her feelings; tell Jake honestly how she feels... but the question is will he receive this information lovingly, or because of their occupations will he stop her in her tracks? Nervous, she contemplates the situation deciding it’s now or never.

Leaning against the kitchen table with his arms folded, Jake grins.

“You ready then?”

“Yes of course”

The drive to the shopping mall is excruciating. Crystal overwhelmed completely with nerves wants simply to blurt her heart out, but realistically she knows it needs doing face to face.

Jake quiet as a church mouse thinks deep thoughts; every so often he flash flicks his eyes sideways, curious as to what Crystal’s doing. Viewing the scenery, Crystal in her own little world is thankful that the day is warm, sunny and beautiful. She knows a golden opportunity has presented itself. She realises this is the first time she and Jake have been alone together without of course the added pressure of being immersed in their working environment.

The hum from the air conditioner switches off as Jake parks up.

Jake ever the gentleman he is shoots round to her side of the car to open it. This endears him even further.

“Right then madam, where to first?” Jake enquires, teasing.

The next 3 hours the couple spend their shopping time viewing, buying necessities with care. Each purchase has a firm destination.

“I’m shattered” Crystal sighs.

“Right then, Lets go and eat”

They spy a really beautiful restaurant overlooking a seriously stunning lake.

Jake and Crystal are wait a few moments before they are shown to their seats; both take in the gorgeous architecture of the building and the beauty of its surroundings. Crystal doesn’t want the day to end.

The restaurant has a rustic ambience. Its warm interior, feels a little like being in a luxury log cabin in Switzerland. Each table adorns a single stemmed red rose which compliments white silk linen. On the walls hang glorious masterpieces painted by great artists. The couple are moved to the terrace where Crystal thinks it’s appropriately romantic.

Sitting down, a smile passes fleetingly through Crystal’s eyes; thankfully this is not missed by Jake.

After ordering food, a bottle of wine appears which Jake politely refuses, opting for a soft drink instead. Crystal takes a huge gulp, the medium dry white liquid hits the back of her throat and for a second deliciously stings, whilst she feels its heat swish rapidly around her stomach.

Just what I need she thought...

“I’m so glad we’re here today Jake” Crystal quickly says. This is followed by a further gulp of extra strong liquid.

“You are?” he feigns surprise.

“Yes I am” Came Crystals indignant reply.

The lull in conversation feels awkward. Crystal tastes the burn from another mouthful ... she wants to share her thoughts with him, would he understand? Does he feel the same way? Will he reject her? Oh so many questions, so many doubts...

Jake leans back in his chair, smiles at crystals obvious discomfort.

“So you have something to tell me?”

Crystal’s decision to go for it is decidedly done at speed, once she starts words flow like the liquid she’s drinks.

“Yes, I’ve wanted to talk to you for months, but every time we get an opportunity something happens” Crystal feels warm.

“I need to talk to you very much about how I’m feeling”

Pausing, she catches her breath for the briefest moment.

“Ok, so what would you like to discuss?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Err... I just want to share some really deep stuff with you”

“You’re not in trouble are you?”

“No, no not at all” she laughed nervously

Another gulp should do it she thought.

“I want to tell you...” Food arrives, leaving Crystal agitated.

“Go on” Jake encourages.

Picking up her knife and fork she continues.

“Damn it Jake, this is hard enough” she breathes. “I want you to know I think you’re absolutely wonderful and if you don’t mind, I’d like to explore the possibility of seeing you, maybe dating? I realise you may think our working relationship could become compromised, but I promise to be professional at all times” Another gulp from the biggest wine glass she had ever seen. A deep breath as she places her glass on the little mat...

“My career is just as important to me as I know yours is, but if we both want this I know we can work on it, I’ve never, ever felt like this about anyone”

Awkward silence returns.

“Well?” she asks nervously.

The silence is now claustrophobic. Eventually Jake moves in his chair.

“Crystal, I wondered how long it would take you to get that out” Jakes hands reach across the table, warmly he entwines strong fingers through hers and then squeezes reassuringly.

Crystal breathes like it’s her first breath... It feels like she’s died and gone to heaven.

Relaxed and laughing she replies, “I can’t tell you how nervous I’ve been”

With a look of seriousness, Jake whispers

“This can’t get out Crystal, the chances are you would lose your job, relationships within the service are taboo and definitely not encouraged and we have to be very careful, take our time and see how it goes”

Big wet happy tears slip down pink cheeks, it’s all Crystal ever wanted. The two of them spend the next 2 hours talking non-stop. When it’s time to go, Crystal wishes with all her heart that the night could last forever.

Reading her mind Jake promises to bring night caps to her room when the house is asleep.

It wasn’t long before they pulled in through the double security gates and drove up to the house. With a stolen touching smile, mindful of the secrecy with the love of her life, Crystal shyly lowers her eyes as she proceeds to move into the residence... her mind captivated elsewhere, didn’t expect to be shot through the chest as she opened the side door... Jake jumped, alerted to the cracking sound of a shotgun fired, he spins around. The world for him slows down to a micro movement per millisecond as in horror he watches Crystal frantically clutch her chest then collapse to the ground. Scrambling to pull the driver’s side door open he hears her scream as another shot pierces her left shoulder. Blood is everywhere; very slowly she puts her right hand up to the gunman acknowledging defeat.

Evil personified the gunman stands over her then at point blank range, he fires...

Sunday, 3 October 2010

Sylvia's Mother...

Life is strange to say the least. Who knows what sad, weird and wonderful happenings take place around us... Who’s to say we should understand, believe, trust and have faith? Each and every one of us has our own story to tell. Come on, come closer and listen to Sylvia’s. Her story is one of bravery and goes to show how powerful the mind can be. Even when Sylvia lived through something so traumatic, in order to survive it was necessary for her to make up her own reality... or was it made up? Did Sylvia’s mother really return from the other side to protect her daughter...? Read on and make your own mind up!

Gasping for breath Sylvia darts out from the clinging darkness of the tunnel; her heart hammers to the beat of an invisible drum. Clothes now torn and dirty flow from out behind her like beautiful, silky material, dancers wear in faraway dream sequences. Only this isn’t a dream, Sylvia's assailant with brute force pushed her face into filthy wet mud; she still smells the stink of it because it's thickly caked within her nostrils.

Crying from the sheer effort it takes to physically pull herself up the never-ending flight of steps which are set steeply into the side of the hill. Sylvia grabs desperately at the freezing handrail; heaves towards the final step. Glimpses back into terrifying darkness, she’s convinced he hasn’t followed. Grateful, she spots a telephone box.

“999 what is your emergency?” The high pitched tinny voice enquired.

“Police” Sylvia screams “Police”

“Calm down miss, tell me what the problem is?”

“I’ve been attacked; I don’t know where I am”

“Try to remain calm your number is being auto-tracked, I’ll remain on the phone with you until the police get there”

Into the mouth piece Sylvia sobs uncontrollably. Pushing the phone savagely into her right cheek she feels strangely comforted by the fact somebody’s talking to her.

“Are you there Miss?”

“I’m here but I need help, oh my god I’m bleeding I think I need an ambulance”

In the overhead dimness of murky night lights, a deep crimson colour reflects and shimmers.

“Oh my god there’s so much blood”

“Tell me what happened” the tinny voice said calmly “Miss, are you there?”

Sylvia slowly slid down the glass partition of the phone box. Holding her stomach she feels wet and warm, the blood leaks in small pulses through her fingers.

“Miss, Miss are you there?”

“Yes, yeah I’m here but I feel bad, I’m bleeding”

“I have dispatched a police car and ambulance to your tracked location; they will be with you in five minutes”

The operator felt extremely anxious for this young girl, she took repeated calls like this on a regular basis and wondered what the hell she was still doing working here.

Meanwhile on the floor, Sylvia looks over towards the mountain of steps she’d just climbed. In the darkness she saw his silhouette; she screams and screams. He just stands there looking at her. A sick, evil grin spreads throughout his face, in his hand the knife glints like a piece of crystal in blazing sunlight.

Panic stricken she struggles to her feet, Sylvia drops the phone; the alarm in the operator's voice is heard.

"Run, run to the nearest road"

In the distance sirens are heard and although a few minutes ago that would have been comforting, right now it wasn’t.

Looking behind, Sylvia could see even the sound of sirens had not put her attacker off; he walks slowly like a cat playing with its prey.

“Why?” Sylvia screamed as she ran “Why?”

“Because I could” he hissed.

Clutching her stomach, feeling the blood flow fast between her fingers she is convinced the exertion of running is responsible for her feeling dizzy.

You know Sylvia was not a bad person but she didn’t believe in god even so, she senses surprise as she hears herself desperately praying, asking, begging and pleading the good lord for help. Ahead she makes out the main road as well as headlights from vehicles, if she could just get to the road someone would stop.

From behind she hears him; she feels the hairs on her body rise.

“What does it feel like to be hunted?” her attacker whispers menacingly.

Don’t answer, Sylvia thought don’t answer, you need all your strength to run.

“What does it feel like to be hunted?” he hisses again.

One foot in front of the other Sylvia, keep going.

From out of nowhere but within the dark Sylvia suddenly hears her mother’s calm sweet voice,

“Grab my hand darling, hold it tight and run with me like the wind, I will protect you”

Joy surged within Sylvia’s heart, feeling the warm touch from her mother’s hand; it magically spurns her on with speed she’s never felt before.

In the darkness, the sky lights up from the hue of flashing blue lights as they race in haste towards her...

Caught up in bright headlights, three figures run at speed... just as the attacker raises his knife welding right hand for the very last time, a woman turns and slams him to the ground. Without warning Sylvia feels her mother let go, when she screams in fright her mother demands with urgency that she keeps running.

Looking up from his spot the attacker is confused. He sees Sylvia's mother looking down on him in disgust... the attacker still doesn't fathom it out before he closes his eyes for the very last time.

The police officer has to sprint after Sylvia to stop and reassure her that the nightmare is over.

In the back of the ambulance a commotion is taking place.

“What is it?” the paramedic asks.

“My mum, please don’t leave without my mum" Sylvia sobs “she saved me”

The police officer reassures the paramedic.

“The location is being explored and taped off, looks like he stupidly fell onto his knife, we’re just waiting for the coroner” the officer scratches his forehead, “strange though, this young lady meets a clear description of the daughter and mother who disappeared over a week ago”

The paramedic sighs heavily. “She’s hysterical, genuinely believes her mother is still out in the field with her attacker”

The police officer advises Sylvia of the situation, but this just causes her to become more distraught.

The paramedic expertly injects something soothing to calm her; they know they have to rush her in; this young lady has lost a lot of her life’s precious fluid. On closer examination there’s not just one puncture wound, there are numerous stab sites, one in the front with several in her back.

As the paramedic re-sets the drip he knows whatever this guy wanted, he didn’t want her to live.

Banging the doors shut, the blue light resumes its job. The paramedic slowly shakes his head, he observes Sylvia smile as she talks away to her imaginary mother.