Oh

I don’t know him though I have met his eyes.

I never had sex though I have been penetrated by guilt.

I have been engaged but never kept.

I did catch a  cold but I had not hunted it down.

I like cats but only socraticly

How to bake and eat cake : In the kitchen with Stan and his pals

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    Stan had decided to do some baking.

    The larder was empty
    the cupboard was bare
    he looked in the cake tin
    but nothing was lurking there

    Stan had flour,eggs and sugar and of course milk and butter.Emile was under the table waiting for something to drip out of the bowl!He loved baking days.
    Stan had bought a load of blackberries in the market so he was thinking of blackberry tarts,blackberry crumble..
    He picked up the bag which seemed very heavy.Putting his hand in …..he pulled out a Blackberry!

    He went to the market
    to buy me some fruit
    and now he’s got Blackberries
    he’s going to shoot!

    Annie his next door neighbour was coming to the back door.”What’s up ,Petal?”

    “Oh,dear.I seem to have made a category error.”Stan answered philosophically.”Well what category would you put me into?” she asked petulantly.
    “Why are you so egocentric ?Not everything is about you!”He said fluently.
    “Well if I’m narcissistic it’s because my infant grandiosity was ruptured too suddenly and I was not held and contained in a suitable manner.”
    “You’ve been reading that Wilfred Bion again.” Stan said admiringly.”No,not just him.It’s some American chap as well .Would you like to read it?”
    “No,thanks,I’m finding Julia Segal is more than enough for me.I find Bion is a bit too mystical.I don’t think I can approach you without memory or desire.To be honest,without memory or desire I wouldn’t want to approach you.”
    “Wow ” she said stupidly,her large green eyes staring avidly upon him inviting him to fall into their salty sea like depths.
    “Shall I ring 999?I can’t think of anything to say.I’m lost for words.”

    “Perhaps you have reached that mystical spot beneath language mostly only known to babies,the mad, or meditators?”
    “well,I do feel a bit of madness today.”
    “Is that why you have purple and orange eyeshadow on clahing with your alarazin crimson lipstick and your light beige, but not too light, foundation by Lancome of Brixton and Blackheath,Paris,Rome,and London?”
    “I suppose so.” she replied indifferently.I feel as if I’m behind a glass wall.”
    “Oh,don’t worry.That’s the new window!” Stan explained courteously.”You really are behind a glass wall.”
    “You’ve been reading schizoid processes again on Yahoo,”
    “Yes,” she admitted her face blushing violently.”It’s those new people who’ve moved in across the road.They are both psychoanalysts so I wanted to feel up to their level of knowledge.”
    “I didn’t know they were psychoanalysts.How did you find out?”

    “Well,first of all,there were two large sofas, and then hundreds of knitting needles and a lorryful of wool.And I thought,”Hello,hello,It must be one of Anna Freud’s followers.”
    “So have you met them?” he asked laconically?
    “Yes”,she confessed animatedly .I went over and said,
    “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
    “And what did he say?”
    “Are you all mad round here?”
    “So I thought,”You’re not getting hold of me that easily.””
    “So I said “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m am an admirer of Melanie Klein,”
    “Oh,how did they react to that?”Stan quizzzed her jovially.
    “He was so rude.He said,

    “Are you telling me you’re a lesbian as well as a lunatic?”

    “Oh,dear.No wonder your make up is all running off your face and disappearing down your cleavage.Why don’t you pop upstairs and have a bath?”

    “Well it’s either that or ringing 999”
    “My self is totally divided.”

    “Into equal parts?” “I can’t say” she murmured.”Oh,well” said Stan “you sit there with Emile and I shall make a Victoria sponge and a lemon drizzle cake without the lemon…I’ve only got bananas and they don’t drizzle.

    “Why not adapt to reality and make a banana loaf?”
    “Is that wise?” Stan enquired.”Wise or not,it seems to make sense.” she whispered coyly.”Get a move on or Mary will be back on her Raleigh shopper bicycle and there’ll be no cake for tea.”Thank you,honey.”Stan replied.
    “I am filled with memory and desire.””And quite right too,”mioawed Emile from his basket.”I’m like that every night!””And so are all of us,”Annie twittered on one of Stan’s blackberries

Together

You play on the clarinet;

I play my old cello.

Your music is so poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You cannot play from mine.

Our music must be transposed,

But will never sound the same.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have tortured feelings,

which I have rarely known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are shown

By some blesses vision

From the dark unknown.

I love the music that you play.

I know well you love mine.

But can we play together

In some meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is an arduous lifetime task;

Much easier to play pretend

and never,never ask.

I cannot share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and love of the divine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditative art.

I shall listen with my ears.

I shall listen with my heart.

Then I shall respond to you;

My instrument is here.

I am playing quite new music,

I feel you drawing near.

Together we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to know your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we now make a work

For torment’s sweet relief;

Though this music is so tragic,

Its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures,

but those from your curved hands.

I have loved you

I have loved you and I’ve held you.

Many years,you have been mine;
If the time has come for parting
Let us embrace for one last time.

You know you have to leave me,

Though you desire a longer stay.

Let me hold you in my arms now

For just tonight and perhaps one day

Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.

We take this last step all alone.

I’ll be here beside you watching.

I shall feel when you are gone.

May you accept,may you surrender.

I hope you reach the promised land.

Into this earth my tears will fall, love,

As I recall your tender hands.

Lose control

Birth control

All I know is that diaphragms are a form of birth control.
I am puzzled by that because we all have diaphragms, yet some of us have no control of any kind.
If your diaphragm doesn’t move you can’t breathe so you can’t procreate.
No,you’d be dead!
A very strange form of birth control.
Maybe you can just faint and then your husband can have his way with you.
But would you want sex with someone unconscious?
It’s another case of a-symmetry.. a man can have relations with a faint woman but if the man faints that’s the end of it.
How disappointing.
I suppose you  might use a carrot instead.
Well,it would be a form of birth control.
And girth control.
How come?
Sex is exercise,isn’t it?
Being alive is exercise!
Keep moving in any way you can,.however irregular.
Regular is better…
But anything goes today.
Even carrots.
Control..you love  to lose it.

With utter willingness we live our lives

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Flower by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2015

I have edited this but have left the original poem  underneath as it is popular and I don’t want to remove it if some people prefer it that way.

The journey to the heart is  graced by love.
And those who need to seek obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead;cliffs’  sudden fall.

With willingness to cross  fields deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled thorny wood.
Our soul within points to the latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.

As flowers spring up  to tantalize our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.

For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

Old version

The pathways to the heart are blessed by love.
And those who truly seek will  never lose.
As virtue and her graces smile above
We see the hills ahead,the rocky views.

With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To venture via tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul within shows us the highest good,
When trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.

With flowers springing up  between our toes
Encouragement is ,with relief ,received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our hearts were not deceived.

For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet

Being of good will

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Definition of WILLINGNESS [ from Merriam Webster]

Cheerful readiness to do something [ plus ditto to feel or be something]

Thinking about the significance of “willingness” ,it comes to my mind that if we are asked to do something pleasurable we will not need urging.We will easily be willing unless we are masochists are have pressing needs that cannot wait.
So what is the significance of “willingness” when it relates to something unpleasant or painful we must do?I can imagine one scene where I ask someone to do a small task for me and though they are busy they are “more than willing” knowing my circumstances.But I ask a different person and though they agree there is a grudging quality about their doing what I ask.
Tn the first case we all feel joy when we know someone will go out of their way to help us and in the second we feel uneasy about asking that person and neither side gains much from the transaction.
Now turn inwards and imagine that you waken up feeling in poor spirits and moreover you do not like this.That is you are unwilling to feel the way you do.In my experience being unwilling in that way makes the spirits worse as we have secondary anger or depression about our state which can only make it worse.
Now think of the term “acceptance”.We can easily imagine that if we can accept a situation we can deal with it better.So a wife who finds her husband’s hobby is studying maths in the evening is going to have a problem if she believed they would spend every evening chatting together.The husband too has a problem that he may not have foreseen when he was madly in love.He has to work out how much time he needs alone with his abstractions or whether it is an excuse not to engage with his wife.
The wife who finds her husband genuinely needs to study for lomg hours or he is unhappy will have to consider whether she can accept this as a way of life or whether she should seek a better partner because nowadays women want to have their needs met too,not to just beadjuncts to men.
If she accepts it and adapts then she may be happy.A problem rises if she keeps up a war with her husband,criticising and blaming him for his needs.I might say she can’t force him to talk to her as what value does it have when it is not spontaneous/
If people have good will towards each other then they can find away of living and respecting the other.
If we have good will towards our selves then we can accept and live with parts of ourself we do not like or parts which cause us suffering yet which cannot be changed and must be lived with.
If we don’t have good will  towards ourselves then life is much harder as we attack ourselves with criticism and deprivation of love.
I think willingness or good will is crucially important in human life though n doubt I frequently forget it! Ill will directed anywhere ou side or in harms both parties or splits the self and causes more deeper problems.
Of course it is hard to be willing to suffer painful emotions but what choice do we have?Only to find the best way or at least
“to be willing to be willing” as I describe it to myself.
Is willingness a virtue or a decision? Or an impossibility for some of us?