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Moon Ate the Dark Writing Prompt Challenge: Moon/Hazel Reid

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So I entered a short piece into this Writing Challenge; like so many other submissions, mine veered toward the darker side of life: https://braveandrecklessblog.com/2017/05/23/moon-ate-the-dark-challenge-findinggabrielle-griffin/
Then today, I saw this entry, so had to re-blog. I love it! Thank you to Christine at her Blog Brave and Reckless for all this creativity and activity

braveandrecklessblog's avatarBrave & Reckless

“Mum Moon ate the dark chocolate!” yelled Ash. Mum panicking, yelled back asking him did Moon actually eat it all. Ash getting more panicked told her that he did and that he’s lying on the floor moaning and that his tummy looks funny. Mum frantically getting out of the bath drips large drops all over the floor making it slippy. “Ash you’ve got to get him outside quickly”. Finding clothes she tries to get them up her tacky legs and thinks ‘yet another terrible start to the day’. “Mum he’s going to be sick” a plaintive Ash calls up to her. On reaching him she grabbed Moon and dragged him outside. He did indeed start throwing up; black vomit. She was glad that she knew he’d eaten the chocolate because it looked like blood.  Stupid dog.

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Fellow bloggers: do you have a rest day?

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I feel like I’m getting obsessed with reading and commenting on blogs! So many good ones to discover… on such a fascinating range of topics. Just wondering if people make themselves have time away from this WordPress World- any feedback or suggestions for me? Thanks in advance, gabrielle Down Under : )

Watching her cry from across the world

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In bed, snuggled with cat, computer, and early morning cuppa. Click link on generic Facebook newsfeed. Suddenly watching a grief-stricken Mum, mourning her lost daughter after the bomb blast in Manchester. See her blotched red face, and the grey roots of her dull brown hair. Notice her own mother sitting beside her, and perhaps that’s her son, sitting on the floor at her feet, holding her hand with his head bowed? See her swollen eyes and running nose, thickening her voice, wailing for her lost baby. And as my own tears fall softly, think:

‘This is the true good of social media; we can share our vulnerabilities and losses. Her life has just been fucking ruined, and she’s sharing a miniscule amount of her pain on this day with us. She’s held in this nightmare by her family who love her, and she’s not alone. Thank god she’s not alone.’

We are all in mourning, all across the world, all the time: for our lost family members or friends, our beloved dead pets, our forgotten dreams. For the departing freshness of the ocean, or chopped cool of the forest. For Peace, for Hope, for Equality, for Love.

We are not alone. We are never alone. And to reveal, share, touch, and unite is the only way through this, to the End.

candle

 

Moon Ate the Dark Challenge: Finding/Gabrielle Griffin

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“Whaddya blog about?”
“Life really I guess: dating/love/teenage son/Mindfulness & thoughts… plus sometimes creative stuff, like this. Here’s my entry of between 100-750 words in response to sentence ‘Moon Ate the Dark’…’

braveandrecklessblog's avatarBrave & Reckless

What leans a woman into her Life? Lean close to the Ache of pain or grief instead of away? Not Away into drink, sex, TV or buying. But instead Breathe hot and brave into heart ruptures, pressing pearl bones against trial and Mistakes, angled up close enough to see the Splinters as they happen.

Moon was such a Woman. Tall, strong, soft, wrapped in amber and citrus oil, Kindness like a long scarf trailing from her hair.

When Moon first kissed her with mint fire lips, did all the stars Stop to watch? It seemed so. She sank her black bags of Loss to Moon’s bare feet, who simply leant in, stepped over them, and Kissed her again.

When they first made Love, after 2 months of crawling round her Ugly walls, Moon whispered her name over and over, calming urges to Flee outside her frozen body, with the thin…

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Driving with teenage son #2

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Me: I need something funny from you for my next Blog post, my readers love them

Him: [Scathing glance sideways] Mum, I’m not your performing monkey

GGgrump

Down the long lane

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I was invited and encouraged to re-blog this old post of mine for the recent Mother’s Day, and #ForgivingFridays over at Debbie’s blog ForgivingConnects:
https://forgivingconnects.com/
So here it is

bone&silver's avatarbone&silver

My mother, who lives in England, turned 80 on July 4. From Australia, I had organised a 3-day weekend get together in an old farmhouse on Dartmoor for our closest relatives, meaning 13 of us met up to celebrate. I hauled myself over to the UK, begrudging all those people who sleep easily on planes. Still, four good films in a row aren’t bad going.

A couple of weeks before I left, I treated myself to a massage. As usual, I wondered why I don’t do it more often? It was such a lush experience, with hot white towels softly lowered over me, and warm wheat-bags resting along each limb, feeding the air with that fresh bread scent. No tinny dolphin music, just silence. It was in a private home, so no exterior noise, or impatient clients waiting outside the door for us to finish. The masseur created a wonderful…

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I can’t get over this woman’s imagination & honesty! Please read x

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The Monsters Under My Bed

http://braveandrecklessblog.com/2017/05/17/the-monsters-under-my-bed/

Gift from teenage son…

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I heard ‘Almost17’ in the shower at 6am (we had to leave for the airport at 7); he soon came into my room fully dressed, with still-damp hair, where I lay in bed reading before getting up.

Him: Move over Mum.

Me: [Really??] OK Sweetie. [Sliding over, slightly stunned, but pretending I’m cool…]

Him: Happy Mother’s Day.

Me: Thanks. You know I think it’s a load of Hallmark crap don’t you, but that’s still lovely, thank you. Are you bringing me peppermint tea in bed?

Him: No, I’m too tired. I didn’t get home from the party till 1am. *Rolls on his side away from me*. Spoon me Mum.

Me: [REALLY??] OK Sweetie. [Spooning behind him, completely stunned, gingerly resting my arm on top of him and the quilt because, you know, I’m Cool…]

Him: No, properly Mum, under the covers. Please let me sleep for another 15 minutes.

Me: Sure honey…

spoon

*Lie there holding my baby boy as he begins to twitch and dream, breathing deeply. For how many nights did I hold him until teenage-hood? How many times did I soothe him when he was sick or fretting? How rarely does it happen any more…?

I know none of these answers right now. All I know now is the utter peace of lying here, being ‘Mum’, and providing a safe haven for my child, however briefly, just like in the old days:

gg&A2001

2001

I want to stop Time.

Wishing every Mama out there a meaningful connection with her child or children, even if just for a moment. Also honouring each woman who chooses not to birth or parent, or who can’t, or won’t. Also acknowledging those of us who suffered postnatal depression or other challenges, and women who have survived terrible mother experiences or childhoods. There are endless complex stories, held by multitudes, and the simplistic myth of ‘maternal instinct’ can be deceptive.

But let’s remember and agree that we are ALL mothered and nurtured by our planet Earth, who deserves as much love, respect, and care as we can give her, today and every day.

earth

Image from NASA 

Thank you! Here’s cake for my 100 Followers! :~D

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100

Yup, I just reached that sweet baby milestone, and want to honour all of you who’ve taken the time to read even one Post.

I’ve always wanted to be a ‘writer’, ever since I worked out how to make a word on a piece of paper (I remember the moment; it was of course c-a-t). I felt like I’d made magic, and sometimes still do. When I write or read something poignant or visceral, I’m so grateful for my blessed life, where I can make Art in peace and safety, with a roof over my head and food in my belly.

I’m going to donate $100 today to The Indigenous Literary Foundation here in Australia, whose mission is to provide language-appropriate books and reading classes to disadvantaged Aboriginal children in remote areas.

I’m also going to eat a piece of cake. If I could share it with all of you, I would. Thank you so much for your support and love, gabrielle xxxxx

The 3 Dwarves of Attachment: Grumpy, Stressy, & Happy (AKA Avoidant, Anxious, & Secure)

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Ever wondered why some dates lead you to sex, romance, or even love, while others leave you cold? Have you dumped someone as soon as it got too intimate or demanding? Or endlessly analysed online messages, and started ‘deep & meaningful’ conversations, seeking reassurance? Alternatively, perhaps you’ve been happily committed to your ‘best friend’ for 20+ years, and have no idea what I’m talking about?

Attachment Theory suggests that our experience of being parented deeply informs our neural pathways, which are committed to repeating familiar patterns- a genetic programming designed to keep us ‘safe’, close to the tribe, and able to navigate back to the cave easily.

As I’ve said HERE before, after reading ‘Attached’, I know I’ve been happily Avoidant, and now at the ripe old age of 50, am trying to change that. This dog WILL learn new tricks! As I reflect on friends, past lovers and partners, of any gender, I use my body wisdom to remind me what dynamic we were in together:

  • Holding me at arm’s length (as I did them), like I’m the enemy? Hello ‘Grumpy’
  • Leaning too close, always at a tilt towards me? Hi ‘Stressy’
  • Contentedly standing calm, letting me dance toward and away, with clear boundaries and needs I can understand and honour? Pleased to meet you ‘Happy’

I’ve been SO Grumpy; I can’t believe lovers put up with me. Here is my inner Avoidant: note those dismissive side eyes, defensive fists, and sturdy feet for walking firmly away.

Attachment Theory in online dating relationships and love, for Over 50s #love #dating advice

Attachment Theory in online dating relationships and love, for Over 50s #love #dating advice @boneAndsilver

I’ve occasionally been Stressy myself; I hated it, and felt literally sick (again that body wisdom). I’ve been blessed to have dear friends, and a few generous partners, who gave me the Happy experience of secure, safe, predictable connections. Rare but precious.

During my relationship course last week, we learnt that attachment styles can change according to context (i.e. someone Avoidant can flip you into being more Anxious, which I’ve experienced, much to my Grumpy badge-wearing surprise). Statistically, the dating pool is full of Avoidants, circling round the love-seeking Anxious like sharks, while Secure folk are cosy at home or out exploring the world, side by side with their Beloveds. *sigh

But cheer up, less-Happy folk: we can create ‘earned security’. We can practice new behavioural responses, being Mindful, and making healthier choices about who we get involved with, plus how we treat them.

Communication is the key- we Avoidants tend to ignore or downplay conflict or uncomfortable feelings. My new love ‘H’ and I have some awareness of our challenges, and much yet to be discovered… but our willingness to try is the key we’ve hopefully found at last.

In gratitude for learning new ways, G xO