Memories of madness and migraines...

I was once a chronic migraine sufferer. I didn't get the standard 'oh my head hurts' type of migraine. I got the industrial strength, skull-splitting-gut-spinning-eye-swirling-tongue-numbing kind. With a little temporary paralysis thrown in for good measure too.

It always ended in a vomit. A three hour journey to heave all the contents and more from my frame. Then the pain would increase, and for days onward I would have that feeling like someone had injected a rubber inner-tube filled with water inside my skull around my brain. Owch.

I remember my first ever migraine vividly.

It's a very lucid memory.

I was five years old and had come home from school with the measles. I remember that Mum and Dad had bought me some Fruit Tingles for a nice sugery hit to make me feel better. I can remember being allowed to play outside in the sunshine for a little while after coming back from the doctor's and then waking up in bed after my fever had broken, but with this weird thing happening to my eyes and a smashing headache. I left the bed, went down to the garden and retreived my half packet of Fruit Tingles from above the hose tap. Then, as I was walking back to the brick steps I heard the rumble of the large semi-trailers steaming down the hill at the bottom of our street. They sounded very far away,..... but I distinctly remember thinking at that moment that if I just could get myself down the road, I could walk under a truck and all the pain would stop. The next thing I remember is being in bed again with Mum telling me I should NOT get out of bed and wander around whilst I was sick. I told her about the trucks then. She was shocked and scared. I scared my Mum really good that day, without any intention to.

Inevitably this prolonged experience with migraines lead to analgesics. Painkillers of many and varied sorts. Aspros did nothing, just made me vomit earlier than usual. Then I was given a few Pethadine injections.(lovely, lovely, lovely) Then, I was prescribed Codiene Asprin at the ripe old age of 15. And, if you give a 15 year old access and permission to prescription pain relief, well then, the outcome is pretty much set.

Anyhoo. Life went on, up and down, small bouts of suspected insanity. A little behavioural self-abuse, a little alcohol abuse (pffttt! actually, a lot), a little bit of running away from my responsibilities, and generally erupted in a big sense of not knowing what the hell I was here for.

They abated suddenly after meeting my husband about 12years ago. Now. I'm not convinced either way which catalyst it was. It could have been the introduction to large amounts of marijuana resin for a short intense period of time. It could have been the meeting of my lovely husband that gave me purpose and connection. It could have been getting out of the family home and running away to the other side of the planet. Methinks it was a conglomerate effect.

I've had a total of about 4 migraines since I've been married, which is a vast improvement on the 2 to 3 times weekly I was having before I met him. I had one today. Out of the blue. I usually like to be able to pinpoint the catalyst, in some form of stress trigger. But no. Don't know.

At least now when I have them I meditate the bastards out and only sometimes have to take a little panadol. It just sucks immensely that I can still get one.

Om Mani Padme Hum.

La Dolce Vita! Bravo!!

"don't be misled! these boobs take some maintenance!"

Not unlike the Fredericho Fellini movie, I am feeling somewhat bold, buxom and brazen.

I feel I am definitely in a good life, living it. Maybe it's because the array of musical talent has, inevitably, relented in my head.

Maybe it's because it's school holidays and I feel the 'chaffeur' will be getting a rest from the twice daily run of school 'drop off' and 'pick up'.

Maybe it's the cool weather which draws me to think of green grass and rain drops sliding off slowly from leaf and frond.

My Pan God has come to visit and he's a barrel of fun if not a little misrepresented in the media. I love this time of year. It's like the whole damn continent just gives up a sigh and asks for a glass of red. Luvley.

I had four guests around to dinner last night. (plus lovely husband, myself and two beautiful children) Homemade pizza by moi, with herb crusts (organic herbs from my garden, forgive the immodest show of pride there, but it's well founded....), many different kinds of vegetable goodnesses as toppings, AND, we even had one with artichoke hearts, chargrilled capsicums, sun-dried tomatoes, and the most brilliant ingrediant of ALL TIME,..........baby boconccini.
(oh let me go and have an appetite orgasmmmm)

Everyone got extremely full of pizza, wine and salads. It was good. I got to say that my brother-in-law has feet like a Hobbit, and because of the jocular nature of the evening, everyone laughed! Oh! Hahahahah!
I even got to say other things that due to the happy nature of the night and the distension of everyone's bellies was taken lightly,.... as if no-one was listening at all!
...maybe no-one was listening at all.....
oh well...

To reiterate. Life is good. Living the good life. La Dolce vita is alive and well in the skipping little land of Chinut. Taking orders for pasta night next week.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOk-la-homa!!!!.....and others...

"where the wind comes whistlin down the plains!"

Oh yeah, I'm back into the groove of life.

After Bohemian Rhapsody was defeated, or left voluntarily,.......... I'm no longer interested in dispute.....
I had a moment or two of a Guilbert and Sullivan revival, and wow, was it great or what!
(I can't believe I remember THAT much from the musical My Fair Lady)

And the Pirates of Penzance floated in and out quite often. ("what NEVER! No never!!)

Then, O Glory be, ...Oklahoma swooped in to take it's place with a rush of happiness I'm honest with being damn embarrassed about.

"there's a furry-little-surrey with-a- friiiiiiinge,...on the tooooooooooooooooooooop...."

Oh I'm smiling like Julie Andrews on top of a mountain. Give me an apron and an Austrian dictionary now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't let anyone tell you that working with flower essences doesn't work. It does take some courage though..........

Scaramooche! scaramooche! can-you-do-the-Fandango!!

"'sunderboltz an lightning! very very frightning! me!"

Ok so this is the new mind game I'm in now. bloody Freddie Mercury and Co with the most drama queen song. It's comforting and yet, somewhat feels like it is going to send me mad. Doing the washing, making the tea, writing serious documents, it doesn't seem to matter what I do, Bohemian Rhapsody has an IN anywhere for anything.
'So you think you can stop me and spit in my eyyyyyye!'

With the contention of the last month firmly IN my head, I am now on the tidal flow of it OUT. Seems like we're on a mental Spring Tide, and I am in the middle of the current.

"Galileo!! galileo! Gallileo fig-ar-o!"

And we go on some more.

'Be-el-ze-bub-has-a-devil-put-as-ide for meeee, for meeeee, for MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'
Well if there is a devil put aside for me lets hope it's a nice devil. The sort that will attempt seduction before ripping out flesh.

So now, all that's left to do is the headbanging.
Dah na-nah na-nah na-nah na-na...........!!!!!!!!!! :)
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Sometimes, I get the feeling, that it's all in my head.

Piss off Parkie! I'm tryin ta sleep!

Ah kay. You know when you've had a run in with someone about something, and you know it's going to be more harmonious to just 'leave it' and move on. Let the world keep turning etc. but these little voices start popping up and creating dialogue in your head?
With me it's always an interview with Michael Parkinson. He's very insistent and relentless is Mike.

So I get the sweats induced dream of being interviewed by MP on his show and, lo and behold!, the archnemisis of the-current-issue-at-hand is the topic, and sometimes even the second guest. Yikes!

Suprisingly, I found out recently, this is not an uncommon phenomenon. Robbie Williams confessed to having this happen to him in times of stress too. To think! that bundle of tight buns the Robster has the same pschological process as a mere mortal. Great.
(maybe it's got something to do with the history of alcohol and drug abuse......?)

Anyhoo. I got through the interview, and, considering, I think I came across ok. I made good points and described in detail my reasons, opinions and dealt with humble awareness my own weaknesses which undeniably lead to the situation arising, "Yes...... of course Michael, I see that very clearly".

He not only shook my hand at the end of the session but gave me the 'forearm clasp' only reserved for those he truly connects with.
We even did the inaudible gratitudes at the end too.
It was a beautiful moment......

I feel healed. :) thanks Mike. Now rack off and let me get some shut eye. xx

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day....."

Oh dear.
What a time I've had in the last day or two. I've been angry, upset, angry then a bit more upset, then inconclusive, then wavering. Ah dear me.

I had the experience of being confronted by a person yet again (read 'old grey horses') who wanted to extol their amazing grasp of all knowledge. Yippee...bring me more of those. NOT.

An ex-tutor got to writing a veiled insult against Feng Shui practitioners who are still 'in their ignorance' because they are practicing Bagua Feng Shui and not authentic Feng Shui.

Well, let's just begin by saying I wasn't impressed with the insinuation that I'm stoopid because I don't get fanatical about a certain kind of study. I think all ways of approaching Feng Shui are for all different types of people. And we only have to search a little to find what suits us best.

(And this person has taken money to tutor at a place where all schools of feng shui are taught and supported. It doesn't smack of a lot of integrity to be able to have no tolerance for practitioners who use different schools of feng shui and then to accept money to teach at an establishment that supports this)

I've studied them both and they both have their upsides and downsides. I'm not into superstition, but I'm happy to let someone have their three toed frog if it makes them feel better! Ya know!!? I don't feel the NEED to tell them that it 'doesn't work' and won't make them wealthy, because 'wealth' means such a lot of different things too. Not just moola.

Wealth of peace of mind may be given to someone because they use their frog at the doorway. Who am I to take that away?

What was written by ancient sages is truly useful, and then, a lot of it must be used and moulded to be for our day and time. Authentic Feng Shui is all about Time, and it's effect and that it changes situations. Yet this particular authentic practitioner was quoting something from an ancient text that quite frankly was just posturing and has not got a lot to do with what I was upset about.

He was alluding to the possibility that all un-authentic practitioners were 'fraudulent'. Which got my hackles up well and good. It's not fraudulent if your main intention is to help, you deliver aide and you are making a positive difference in someone's life, because that's what they have asked you to do. It would be different if they ask for a Flying Stars assessment and I use the Bagua on them. That's fraud.

This whole rant makes little sense, I know. Just a written vomit. :)

So, I replied to the said writing and got a nasty rebuke. Waht-ever! Like I so give a flying fuq. It felt so refreshing to press 'delete', to press 'leave group', and to realise I'm never going to have to read any of this twat's writing ever again. Yeehah. The gift of release given to yourself is very ..... empowering.
"I am ten foot tall and bullet proof!"
"I attract and accept all beauty into my life now"
"I am justified through my actions"
"I live and love with integrity"

I think I'm doin somethin right.

On the weekend my sister (one of many) came to visit for a little work on the thought pathways that were all twisted up, and, it lasted a few hours. It had tears and sighs and heaves of breath, and my children were so good that they played quietly and respectfully on the other side of the garden while us two 'adults' played out the necessary grief and humour to temper the situation.

So after several hours of this and many cups of tea, my beautiful daughter comes up and says " Excuse me, can you take us to ride our scooters over at the pathway (etc etc etc.....)" and so we apologised for taking so long and thanked her for being so good and keeping her younger brother amused and interested.

And then she says, " And, you know, you can talk on the grass over there, 'cause I won't be able to hear whatever you're saying......... while I'm scootering around...and all that......" *looking at us with big green-blue eyes*

My sister and I just grinned widely and said thankyou. Then as she was walking away from us to gather baby brother plus scooters, my sister just gives me the biggest squeeze round the shoulders and beams a bright face at me. She says "She's such an amazing little person isn't she?!" nearly choking on her happiness.

It was Great. It was a moment filled with Grace. I'm always going to remember because it showed me that not only have I been able to teach my child compassion, but I've been able to show her enough so that she can display it openly, with natural capacity.

Felt it was like a big pat between the shoulder blades from the Universe you know? fab.

You know it's Winter when....

you can easily be in bed by 7:30pm and not want to get out until 7:30am, .....when the sun is fully 'up'. That way you can run to 'the sunny spot' in the house and defrost. Making dashes to the kettle, and back, to... 'the sunny spot', and wrapping chapped fingers around steaming mugs of tea.

Ah I love it though. Even if it is only going to be for a couple of months. It's the joy of the experience, ya know? Before we can buy a tub of body moisturiser to allay the dry flaky skin of our season we name 'cold', we'll be slapping on the sunscreen and whinging about heatstroke over a large jug of Gin & Tonic. With lime of course.....

The photo is of 'The Nine Ladies', a stone circle in England that has been under supervision by several conservation organisations as a whopping quarry was planned to be dug near it. The last I have heard is that it is safe. Until the next pack of bastard mongrel wankers tries to rip into yet another jewel of an area in M.O.E. I'm sending my love to all those long haired, smelly, well educated, big hearted travellers who do us proud with their tunnelling and tree dwelling. Keep on doing that hard and usually unappreciated work!

Visit the Megalithic Portal site for more info on conservation of this type.

http://www.megalithic.co.uk/