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Hi There

A quick catch up

Hi there.
I have been neglectful of my page of late.
Why?
Hmm…

Time got away between posts and my motivation waned.

I didn’t think anyone was reading.

I forgot why I am writing this blog.

I started this blog for freelance writing purposes. It was required of me to set up a page and start running a blog (at my own cost) in order to have a freelance article published online (Paid less than said cost) I was also required to continue my blog in order to be invited to write for this online publication again. The invite never came and that’s no biggy really. When I set up this page I wondered what I could possibly share that others might wish to read. Then it struck me. My recovery from alcohol dependence is the biggest thing in my life. I know many others struggle from addiction and so off I went. I hoped that somewhere in my words that even just one person may benefit. I also hoped that readers would enjoy my writing. Something amazing began to happen. I thoroughly enjoyed the process and it became very therapeutic for me also.

I can’t identify now where I was at personally when I stopped sharing. I didn’t write for a day or two which slipped into a week, 2, a month etc……

Up popped self, pride and ego –

No one is reading anyway why bother – Silly because I had discovered I was largely doing this for myself and if others read then great. if someone was helped FANTASTIC..

I’ve had feedback and suggestion that I am writing my blog out of ego – No. It became a simple process of enjoying what I was doing. An outlet for my struggles and emotions. A genuine desire that my words may help another.

I had other things to do – Well.. there’s always ‘other’ things to do. Sometimes I forget what is important to me and do other things that provide a quick gratification. I neglect things that have a less noticeable, slow but sustainable result.

I have a tendency to overthink things and I got into my head questioning my motives and wondering if this was a grab for attention. I have recognised that in the past I have been someone who needed attention. I’d tell you otherwise and that I hated both yet I have covered myself in attention grabbing tattoos, was competing in my sports to receive the accolades, I’d never do something small; if I going to enter a run I wouldn’t just do the 10km I’d do the marathon, I entered a 110km overnight paddle race on the Hawkesbury River when I had been paddling just 6 months (I was on a SUP and stacked it at 77km and quit. Ouch for my ego) In rehab I kept the attention on me by loosing 12kg anorexic like while most putt the weight on… Attention attention attention… So i began to wonder if this was another manifestation of that.. You know what it is not. I enjoy this and if others do too that’s great.

I’m back ๐Ÿ™‚

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The Magic of Words

Words are the pearls I string on a thread that form the jewels of my stories.

I love words, they fascinate me. One word is one pearl and a string of pearls a sentence or a story that can portray a multitude of feelings. Words portray emotion, communication, information, beauty and love. Words can warm, words can heal, our words can hurt and wound. Thoughts are words that can lift us up, tear us down, drive us and heal us.

The written word is a document to a time, place and feeling. A memory recorded to be treasured.

My writing is art just like a painting. What joy to begin with nothing, a blank sheet that communicates no feeling and finish with a creation unique and individual that can incite any emotion, laughter, tears, love, confusion, sadness, even hate.

I want to fill my world with pearls of spirit, love and hope and my greatest wish is to string them in a fashion that will move you.

Thank you for sharing xoxo

“Words are the pearls we string on a thread” ANTHONY ROBBINS

photo credit: UnShuttered Soul~ Good to be busy! Bokeh via photopin (license)

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๐ŸŒป๐ŸŒžMy Sunrise๐ŸŒž๐ŸŒป

A poem I wrote in the early weeks in rehab when I didn’t think I possesed ‘depth of feelings’. I was to soon learn when they slammed into me like a Mack truck but this is beside the point today.

This morning I didn’t physically watch the sunrise but I feel it today in my spirit and I see it every time I look at my nieces Melanie and Hayley and into the faces of Melanie’s babies Alyse (Ally) and Isaac.
Think of a drink , think of these faces, they are too precious.

The feature picture was taken by myself one amazing sunrise in Burrill Lake, South Coast NSW.

My Sunrise
By Michelle England

This morning the sunrise belongs to me
Rising in grandeur delighting the sky with his tender hues
Gently, softly, slowly, teasing
And then he bursts in brilliance and glory
Painting the clouds complementing his beauty
The land opens up to accept the sweet gift
Soulful birds singing their descant song soaring
Flowers in worship unfolding faces to the sky

I open my heart and pray
I pray thanks for this morning and the sweet birds
Thanks for the crisp air the trees and the flowers
I pray thank you for life and all things in being
I pray thank you, just thank you, whithout a name

This morning the sunrise belongs to me
A dance in my heart the rhythm of memory
Startling in beauty carrying me away in the moment
Enchanted in joy
There was just him and me
๐ŸŒน

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The Cloak

I spent 7 1/2 months in a long term drug and alcohol rehabilitation centre in 2014. My start in the rehab was a breeze because when I entered I considered myself a human lacking feelings, and certainly I wasn’t feeling any. ‘I just have no depth of feelings’ I liked to share with my therapist and my peers in this therapeutic community. I was warned about ’emotional detox’ but didn’t think this applied to me. I didn’t cry much.

Suddenly at around the 8-9 week mark a flood of emotions assaulted me as my personal ’emotional detox’ began. I cried solidly for a couple of months and a heaviness consumed me. I wasn’t to break out of this until a few weeks before my departure on completion of the program, and for the 2 3/4 years since this darkness has not often been far away. Initially It began on waking. I opened my eyes each morning and the first feeling, before even a thought entered my waking consciousness, was dread. It felt like ‘Ugh’. I wrote ‘The Cloak’ toward the end of my stay in the rehab.

I feel I’m wearing the cloak today ๐Ÿ˜” however this too shall pass

The Cloak

By Michelle England

Perfect unconsciousness
Black, dark, still
I wake

Ahh…

Recycled air escapes from deep
The place just outside my soul
The cloak so soft descends upon me
False comfort easy to get lost in
Sweeps me up in folds of grey
Laying me down in the hazy shadows
A simple paradox
Tenacious surrender
Secure and warm in this fragile cold place
Enticing me to stay
So soft so gentle

Stay…
Stay

Ahh…
In…Out…

My sigh resides
The place just outside my soul
Resides there in the darkness

A murmur from deep
Close your eyes little one close your eyes
I will lull you in my folds
Lay your head down in my bed of shadows
I will hold you

Stay…

A robust spark rekindles
Burning brighter warming from within
Spreading tender strength and courage
Fractures the fog of my hostage mind
A smile so tiny toys upon my lips
A solitary peaceful tear marks a path upon my cheek

Ahh

My sign surrenders
The place just outside my soul
Bringing forth with might and valour
The rainbow of my spirit

The cloak turns drab and heavy
Folds of dark foreboding cold
Deception plain, name revealed
Time to bid it go

Time to breathe
Time to rise
Time to be

Time to shed
My melancholy cloak

photo credit: spaceamoeba Golden walk via photopin (license)

confusion
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ThE DaRk fAiR

The Dark Fair

By Michelle England

Mechanical music spins behind my open eyes
Variegated colours entice my tenuous spirit
I close my ears and shut my eyes as Iโ€™m drawn against my will

Maybe if I fall asleep I might wake up
Maybe if I look back I might move ahead
Maybe if I fall to my knees I might rise up
Maybe if I remember to just breathe
Now whatever I put out will be reflected back
The world will unfold regardless of what I decide
In hiding I expose myself to my soul
My inner child wails crying out to be heard

But I turn my ears from the truth
I close my eyes to the light
The grey comfort of numbness deludes me
A Deception so cunning
My monster clothed in a different mask
Distorted music playing this fake parallel
Paradoxically jovial and insipidly drab

The carousel keeps on slowly spinning
Crazy unicorns grin madly teeth flailing
Dirty and dancing their infinite revolve

A cackle of insanity reaches my ears
Taking my breath in its sound
I realise I don’t want to be here
But I can’t find my way through the maze

Welcome to the carnival
Welcome to the dark fair

photo credit: Craig Walkowicz Illusion of Chaos via photopin (license)