Category: reflections

Stones and leaves and flowers

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midsummer days evoke the trancelike past
where children played in joyous, daisied fields
with buttercups so bright the memory lasts
a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.

those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers
were gathered into images that glow
yet later we forget those treasured hours
when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow

we did not look and see,but felt at one
we lived as did the birds high in the trees
now we see , yet experiencing has gone
we no longer live like flowers all  filled with bees

to lose ourselves in nature is a joy
which to our adult selves we must restore

Of loving flesh

What angst you did inflict upon my soul
What grief gave you  mine eyes to weep afresh.
What  ire do you reserve  to take its toll;
What everlasting loss of loving  flesh?

What sorrow did you wish to save for me
What worthless thoughts did you intend to grow
What ends and means then wished you to see
What  un-contained shudders did you  sow?

Who you are has no interest to me.
Whom you pray for  makes a mock of God.
When you  feel ,then from it you shall flee.
And will he rule you then  with his own rod?

Do not think you’ve made an end of me.
Eternity and time my friends will be

 

Changed perceptions

KODAK Digital Still Camera

When I was growing up as a Christian I was taught about sin,punishment,hell and heaven.
The implication seemed to be that if you found you were inclined to envy or anger or other sins,you could change by will power.Now,may be you can,but often you can’t so you have an extra sin and anxiety that you are a grave sinner.
Now I have been thinking that it may be Perception which matters.If you can change your perception your actions and thoughts will be changed,It’s like changing your perspective or changing your focus,
And about imaginatively exploring what that person who  tempts you to anger,lust,greed,envy, is truly feeling.So you get out of the two person

ME and YOU
It’s like a three person relationship.I can see my views and your views and somehow
then see both differently.I am finding it hard to put into words,If we can change our perception we will change our thoughts and actions

A person is a window

 

 

new windowsA new person whom we get to know can be a window to a different world.For this to function we have to realise that we are all different and we are all of value.
Even within one culture big differences are there between one person and another.
And in London we have people from hundreds of other countries and we British ourselves are multicultural.Some people find this frightening and our ancestors probably only met people from their own village.
But looked at another way,seeing how a friend from another culture views his/her world is enlightening even if only to give a new perspective on our own culture which we may be unaware of.We may see life from a new perspective.These metaphors from Art are very useful.The artist must see as well as  possible and in different ways.So in that sense Art is important not just for pleasure but for living a reasonable life
We may in a metaphorical sense look through this friend’s eyes and see a new world.
Or we may scoff and say how silly and that our culture and our own self are the only ones  of value.Or we may wander on,not really  looking  so not seeing and so miss many chances of enlightenmentAnd enlightenment is the best that a new window can offer us.How full of metaphors our languages are.How poetic.

Dignity’s own dance

What did she convey when she moved thus
A branch of willow bending to the lake?
So eloquent the gesture,with no fuss;
So brief , yet   there,  an image I could take.

 

We dance with gestures,  sometimes seen and shared;
With awkwardness as   over desks we’ve bowed.
Yet in these movements , our deep self is bared
And  given dignity when  none’s allowed

 

For as there is no name for this, our form;
No vigilante’s listed it as sin
And so our human dance goes on and on
From what is now and what  once might have been.

 

We are all partner’s in the earthly dance,
From serendip to  glorious happenstance

 

 

Are prayers cliches?

 

 

IMG_0025In my  previous post I said it was not a good idea to use cliches as they are second hand.But prayers or songs are words which have been used many times before.And will  go on being used until we blow ourselves up.And fairy tales and stories are also repeated down the generations.
Are these cliches?
With prayers I suppose for ones which are in the liturgy we need something we can all say together.Yet even such a prayer can become a meaningless habit.Similarly we will hear tomorrow hymns about Jesus and the Resurrection;hymns  in which we promise to be good,compassionate etc
Then we leave the church and return to our usual mode of life.So being too familiar we do not always hear the prayers or hymns.So in that sense thay have become cliched language which has been emptied of meaning by over-use.
Maybe that’s why Quakers are silent until a person gets a thought they want to share.It is spontaneous.
Some prayers and chants are meant to alter our consciousness.Repeating words is usual in meditation.But unless we want to do it it can be meaningless like saying the rosary may be.It was a trial to me as a child.

In the end we can only reduce the amount of second hand language we use anut d try to look at our loved ones afresh daily.We can’t  recreate the world every hour.But maybe we can become more aware of what we say.

On forgetting we are using metaphors 

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The most obvious confusion between metaphor and reality is when society labels emotional/interpersonal problems/divergence from norms of society as mental illnesses.In the USA childdhood disobedience is now a mental illness and there are many similar crazy notions.Homosexuality was labelled as a mental illness for years but no longer.
Now if you are suffering terrible anguish in various forms it may help to be told it is an illness… or it may make you worse.I am sure that often excess fatigue,personal characteristics like overworking constantly,not eating well,being distressed by the state of the world are very common but there are no blood tests nor any other tests to identify such as being illnesses.Though often physical illnesses casuse mental distress and depression either directly or because of shame and anxiety and other reactions to being ill for a long time.
The writer Thomas Szasz identified this confusion many years ago.If you disagree and say how can medication help unless a person is ill then I’d say that the placebo effect is one reason and another is that if someone is exhausted and needs to rest then medication maybe helpful to give them a little peace.
Gerard Manley Hopkins,A Jesuit priest and a poet seemed to be given a job in an Irish University which was exhausting and debilitating but owing to his vow of obedience to his superiors in the Jesuit Order he could not change his life except by dying… so he thought.
The poet Gwyneth Lewis who has been the National Poet for wales wrote a book[Sunbathing in the rain] about her severe bout of depression.In the book she seems to be claiming that there were personal mistakes and decisions in her lifestyle and job which led her into depression.She saw it as necessary for change.However she did use medication in spite of feeling it was a spiritual turning poimt which she needed to get back onto her true path or vocation in life.
Her mother had been depressed frequently when she was a child and so she would have learned by this as a way of problem solving.
Also despite her immense intelligence she had failed to realise that abandoning her strong hopes to have a child [given the age of her husband and the need to earn a living] was going to cause her huge distress.In fact marrying someone who has been sterilised seems unusual for w young woman who wants children.But it is sometimes reversible and maybe she didn’t think so far ahead.
This blindness to our own feelings seems to lead many of us astray.
We sometimes get clues to our hidden feelings in dreams or we could find someone to talk to when going through a major life decision.
Some people don’t know that grief and mourning exist and are stunned when they feel sad and often their families criticise them for “not coping well” Coping here seems to mean remaining happy and calm all the time;this is a selfish demand on a bereaved person or anyone really.
I also noticed over the years that many famous people suffered from depression but when you examine their lives they seem to demand too much from themselves and be afraid to ask for help
.Poor Sylvia Plath wanted to be famous which she is now but alas she is dead. It’s hard to know why she felt the need to work so hard except her upbringing was one where acadenic excellence was valued and why she married someone with no obvious way of providing support either financial or emotional… when it got tough he ran off… but who knows why? The point that interests me is that she was compulsively driven to achieve… and she did so much in her short life… but was it worth it?
We all need to examine our life to see if we are acting stupidly.
But when worn out mentally it seems thinking is a mistake whereas simple manual work is beneficial as is being outdoors or being with kind undemanding friends…. and if a person has few friends coping with emotional trauma is much harder.This affects people who move to another state or country.And older people moving house even can bring on mental confusion.
And if we are people who find friendship and intimacy hard then it’s likely that we will suffer more from any problem we run into.
Finally,is the idea of a vocation for each of us of value?We each have unique gifts plus a need to earn a living.It depends on many factors outside our control whether we can find a job that combines these.Many poets and writers work in menial jobs to earn a living and then they write at night.[Teaching seems to sap creative energy.]
Other people don’t feel they have a calling but train for something they feel will earn a living in a way that suits them.Electricians and plumbers are in great demand…
And apart from finding our own true needs we need to contribute to society in some way.And to have a feeling of enjoying being alive which is perhaps denied those millions in Asia who make our clothes,i phones and other goods.

What’s true

Winter,I’ve been inside
Dreaming, healing,grieving
Now I see my plants
The almost white cyclamen and one red flower
Sage and rosemary
Japanese maples snug in their tubs
No sign of leaves
I read  blackbirds sing more
Than is strictly necessary
I’m not surprised.
It disproves monetary  economics
And   spending cuts.
We should build  cathedrals,,spires and marble halls.
Give expression to the wonder we feel.
Winter,I feel cold.
When people destroy what can we do?
I’m the Sleeping Beauty waking.
I can’t believe what’s true.

Love and solitude

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It is in deep solitude that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brothers. The more solitary I am the more affection I have for them…. Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say.
Thomas Merton

Life is not a play with a prewritten script

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Sometimes I have found when talking to friends or neighbours some people feel life is predetermined.. not in a religious way;they feel nothing will change.That they run along a track and cannot turn off.
Major change can be hard…. so I am doing simple things like not always sitting in the same armchair.Changing my routines and if the weather is good I am going out and making the most of winter sunshine.
I take a camera and get some intriguing pics as I wander about.the seasons may return each year but they are never quite the same.This year we had snow.Now it’s autumn but we had a good summer…after a prolonged winterImageImage

Jews from the Yemen.

I don’t know what the answer will be in Israel/Palestine in the long term.But last night I read an article and it seems Israel is about 8% the size of the UK.That is very small. They have airlifted 18  Jews from the Yemen [thus ending a 2,000 year history as the 500 year old scroll of the Torah has been brought out.A few Jews remain in a compound by the American embassy.Maybe they feel too old to relocate]
I recall reading that most of the Jews were airlifted out  of the Yemen in 1950 to Israel  with the aid of Britain because they would have been attacked or killed.They were mainly peasants and had to walk to Aden where Britain had got an airbase and some planes.As they were from such remote places they had never seen planes before.The story is that they were told they were angels as mentioned in the Hebrew Bible.The plane had to go to and fro  a few times.
I used to teach with a Jewish man from Iraq.They  were expelled too after a long history.Britain did not offer to take any of the Yemeni refugees.Judging by the Saatchi brothers who are from Iraq,Britain lost some bright entrepreneurs.Then we get such idiots ruling us.Or am I just getting old and sad?

Humor is a virtue

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https://en.wikiversity.org/wiki/Virtues/Humor

Everyday Humor

Practice the virtue of humor every day in these various ways:

  • Before saying something you intend to be funny, decide if it is benign humor, or biting irony.
  • If you find yourself amused by childish, sexist, racists, or other exploitive jokes, it may be important for you to reexamine your beliefs and values in those areas. Respect the dignity of all people as you develop your virtuous sense of humor.
  • Be neither the buffoon nor the boor.

 

Where are you?

 

 

First mew phome pics 007Today I went for an ultrasound scan.Fortunately the result is good and I had a friend with me ;strangely it was not in the ultrasound department but in X ray  so we had to walk much further.The journey back to the front door was tortuous.I seem to have become weak since I was ill for 4 months and it   angers me  to find I am not able to do what I expect.Although, given I am in fairly bad pain, it seems I am too harsh on myself.
Of course I am pleased with the outcome but later in the day I find I keep expecting my husband to be here so that I can tell him.
When people talk of returning to an empty house that is not quite how I would describe it.It seems to me as if there is a hole in the atmosphere of the house which was not there when my husband was alive and was working away from home.
Yes,there’s an empty space of a finite size,like a cocoon,where a person should be.I have dreamed about him but he does not say anything.He was very quiet but had an expressive face and presence.
Even when he was still alive he had stopped fully  responding to me.I came home last April with good news that a biopsy  result was ok.He was too  far gone both health wise and emotionally since I’d been under treatment for a  year.Fortunately I was able to  look after him nearly all the time.
I keep looking round;I see dead roses; he’s not here.How can I tell him? I speak and ask him,where are you,but only silence answers me.He has left me behind like a bag that was not needed.But he needed me to help  him to go.
When with my friend I felt like I usually do.But now the silence seems to shake like waves  of air bouncing and roaming  round the room. I’m too tired   to speak on the phone.I need to eat.
Why don’t I see him like many people do their loved ones? Or is that bad?
Maybe the hole is inside me.Or Am I inside the hole?

Is God happy?

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Is God Happy?

 

They ask if  our God  may be sad
Or if people in heaven are glad
For if they look down
To us foolish clowns
The vision must drive them all mad.

Is eternity here in the now?
Do puzzles have to wrinkle the brow?
Live like a flower
Content in its bower.
And never ask God why or how.

As Jesus said,we  all know
That what we reap we may  have sown.
Purified intentions
Are worthy of mention.
And help all us humans to grow.

 

Someone to do nothing with

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I  remember a few  years ago reading an article about people who were  bereaved.One woman said,
I have plenty of people to do things with but no-one to do nothing with.
I was reminded of that  lately because I have felt very sad and stricken again.And I can visit somebody but I will have to talk to them.Unless they had  other people there so I could just sit quietly.Being with people is nice but  not if constant conversation is required.That is where those who’ve been blessed with   ahappy partnership or marriage have really been fortunate.I suppose years ago we lived near our extended family so that would have given us some protection.But  here  not many people do.Or maybe their  relatives have died.Being with people but not having to talk…
One reason living to be very old is painful is that your own age group has thinned out a lot and people don’t realise very old people still have desires and wishes and don’t want to watch TV all day.Many times they do want to talk but nobody is there.I am not VERY old yet.But I have friends who are.And actually even young people can have disabilities  or  go blind  etc.

Misreading between the lines

??????????There is  no doubt we  all do this reading between the lines…sometimes consciously,sometimes unwittingly.We attempt to fill in gaps in our knowledge.There are a few problems.One is in cultural differences which may affect us here on the web.We come from very different societies and the meanings of certain words and attitudes does vary considerably;

And another factor is our own desires which we are  not always aware of.We may then interpret someone’s words in a way which fits with our desire or interpret someone using bad language to signify that they do not respect us.If the Soaps are an indication it seems in much of Britain every other word has just four letters. which to me shows poverty of feelings and language… but it means many people are not offended by them…But many still are.

So wishful thinking,ignorance,wanting to believe something,,,,,..cultural ignorance.. all these may make communication difficult.Perhaps we should not read too much between the lines at the beginning of a friendship…and be wary of imputing desires to another when they seem to offer what we are hoping for.

It’s a bit like the way here nearly everyone puts “love” or “xxxxx” at the end of a letter or email… so that in reality it means  almost nothing at all;Words become meaningless through overuse and we  will have to judge in other ways what a person feels for us..

Some people are more prone to seeing patterns or meanings in things which can be creative but it can also lead to paranoia in the insecure or lonely individual who has become the center of a huge important plot.When I was ill as a child I remember seeing faces leering at me from the wallpaper and the oil heater hissed menacingly,,, it was the fever but I was afraid…We need friends to tell us if our interpretations seem sensible and to comfort us when we are low.. and we need to be wary of assuming too much especially when we come from different cultures

The Sick Rose

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
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Discover this poem’s context and related poetry, articles, and media.

POETWilliam Blake 1757–1827

POET’S REGIONEngland

SCHOOL / PERIODRomantic

SUBJECTSDeath, Trees & Flowers, Relationships, Nature, Love, Living, Classic Love, Desire, Break-ups & Vexed Love, Heartache & Loss

POETIC TERMS Rhymed Stanza

More about this poem

Words float like water

 

Words float like water in a stream,
Reflected gently by sunbeams.
This stream flows swiftly to my heart
And through these words your love is caught.

The space inside my heart is clear,
Your love will find its right home here.
Your words are treasures in my night,
And in the dark, they glow with light.

Oh,let me read your notes of bliss,
And seal them with a loving kiss.
I hope this stream will always go
Where living waters softly flow.

For love is kind, and love is true.
Connections form from me to you.
And love creates an open heart,
From which all other feelings start.

Yet love is free, and does not bind.
Love is glad,and not unkind.
So if my love displeases you,
Then you can find a lover new.

I have life inside my heart
Which will sustain me if we part.
I shall wish you happiness…
And know my grief will one day pass.

But for today,let’s laugh and play.
Let’s make love inside the hay.
It’s summer and we like the heat.
Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

I desire to live

I feel soft ghostly hands around my throat
That want to pull me to the darkest deep
My husband cannot leave or be remote
He wishes me to join him in his sleep.
I shall resist for I desire to live
Though sightless are my hours without his face.
I have no more  to friends that I can give,
Now he has taken from me his kind embrace.
As lonely as a swan without its mate.
As tired as swallows after they migrate.
I must accept my unconsoled fate,
Yet not believe this be a constant state.
From my loss, I shall recover when
The birds return and warm sun shines again

It rankles within

We try to forget those who harm

With words which cause us alarm..

For it rankles within,

May even cause sin.

Like a snake which may bite or may charm.

 

A festering wound must be cleaned

The poison is otherwise a fiend.

The cut may give pain,

But while pus remains

Septicaemia  lurks unredeemed.

 

And as with the body,the soul

Poison will spoil thus the whole.

We must loosen our hold;

Our resentments unfold.

To  perceive all, we must become bold

 

 

 

.

 

 

Terracotta dishes

I ‘ve had to buy some smaller dishes

The old ones are too big for  only me

I weep as in the bowl I  gently wash

The ones we used  to use when we had tea.

 

Here’s a terracotta  Spanish pan.

We  filled to entertain our friends.

Y0ur dish of onions and lamb;

Tomatoes added to the blend.

 

Here’s a souffle dish  for  six  or eight .

Cheese or lemon,  you enjoyed them both.

And here are all the dinner plates.

Too separate from these, I’m   feeling loth.

 

I don’t know if I’ll cook for friends again

They’ve not cooked for me just lately.

Are they afraid I’ll steal their man?

They  state their reasons so politely.

 

In the guide for widows I was told

Prepare to lose some friends and then some more.

I don’t want their men so  mild yet bold

I’ve closed   the windows and   I’ve locked the doors

 

I feel they compliment me as they think

I’m so  alluring  I can pull again.

But I have  had enough of  loveless links.

I don’t want any  cast off ,needy  men.

 

I dry the pyrex and the copper.

I dry the lids and  muse on  colours

What shall I have for my supper?

What  healthy diet shall I follow?

 

I just want to be with you one hour.

A   cup of Earl Grey of tea, a chance to talk.

But I accept that will be nevermore,

Like my hand in yours on our  long walks

 

I didn’t know that you were dying

The doctors are afraid of saying.

I wish you were  in my arms, just lying.

I’ve tired of churches and of praying.

 

I felt that tendon in your  gentle hand

You turned  around and smiled so brightly.

Then the curtains of  your death descend.

You slipped away so  soft, so quietly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The promised land

Joy sings now in golden light;
Yet after day comes deep,dark night.
New moon will rise by these grey trees.
This is where I want to be.

I want the day;I want the night.
I want the dark;I want the light.
I want to see and to be seen,
And not to lose myself in dreams.

The sun has set,grey clouds turn black,
The day just gone will not come back.
I’ll rest in thoughtful reverie
Until the reaper’s scythe takes me.

And then I’ll drop and mix with dust,
till worms and beetles sate their lust.
I fall into ten thousand motes,
And dance,in sunlight,music’s notes.

No more striving;no more ambition,
No more fighting;no competition,
Every particle’s the same
Without even its special name.

And, side by side, we all are one,
The lusts of life have been and gone.
We dwell with dirt and grain and sand
At last we’ve reached the Promised Land

New proverbs

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  • “Two gangs don’t have to fight.”

    “Two tongues don’t add appetite”

  • “The lens is mightier than the word .”

    “The end is slighter than  a bird”

  • “When in foam, do as the foaming do.”
  •  “When you rhyme,do as the   poets do”
  • “The leaky seal   lets liquid seep.”
  • “The pesky  steal the calm of  our sleep”
  • “When the  mowing gets tough, the tough  take the aftermath.”
  • “When knowing is tough,the tough still look”
  • “No pen is in  wry hands “

    “So when is it in my hands?

  • “No pen is a dry one”

 

I thought I was a virgin.

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According to Freudian theory,writing with a fountain pen is the equivalent of copulation.Damn it.I thought I was a virgin when I got married.That Freud.. who does he think he is?  God……Anyway as we get older we can enjoy this simple outlet without dressing up  making up or on-line dating.And you don’t need protection,contraception or metal detection.Lose it the inky way.Buy a pen today.I am not sure if fibre tip pens are the same!Or ballpoints.I can see a fountain pen is the most similar and so I can believe children should not learn to write any more.Typing is alright,I think.

Or a Cubist.

To be a  perfectionist  is not the same as being a tourist

Or a Cubist.

It’s a state of mind which doesn’t recognise itself;

That believes there’s only one way:

The ideal way.

And that will can achieve it.

To be a perfectionist

Is to be afraid of being ordinary or average.

How do we change?

Can we change?

Everyone assumes we can,

That will power can do it.

But like losing weight,it’s hard

Or impossible.

In any case does anything perfect even exist?

Ignoring humanity,is the world perfect?

What does it mean?

Is  a baby perfect?

Is the  sun perfect?

How are we using words?

Rhymes feed our sounds

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  • Frightened by wrath? Read ” 1000 ways to cope with fear of  rage.”
  • Share out one’s  kitsch in a Will.That will show ’em
  • Call  the chair,it’s love, war or destroy.
  • All is well that blends well
  • Every crowd   has me whining,leave this mall now or forever  bear my grief.
  • The writing on the wall is due to poverty;can we have your   paper?
  • Rhymes  feed  our sounds and time steals our  wombs
  • Chaste by good taste,she was a sinner at heart but nobody reached her acme of fantasied  perfect love.

A living spark

When those we loved are gone into the dark,

From where we come and so will also end;

Then mournful we await a living spark

To light  the fire within and sorrow mend.

 

Reality is not absorbed  whole;

Though we have seen, we cannot yet believe.

And pain torments our  jagged heart and soul

Until in time the grace  comes to receive.

 

We must believe that we can bear  this load,

Even when we fall and lie forlorn.

Help may come  or pain may be a goad.

Love may come from those we used to scorn.

 

To willingly accept  may seem too hard,too grim.

Yet when we do ,the spirit grows within

 

 

 

 

 

ON THE MERRY GO ROUND

I rode on that horse on the Merry- Go- Round at the New Year Fair,

And every time I came around,Dad were standing there.

The horses they  went up and down,as it whirled around.

To me ,so small, they seemed so high,up above the ground.

You knew I loved those magic horses  more than owt at all,

Dad,you let me ride one,though Mam thought I were too small!

I shall never  forget the happiness in my heart imbued;

Yet  more than I loved those horses, Dad,I loved you.

I wish I were a child again and you were with us today

I think we’d recognize your voice,and  listen to what you’d say.

Why did God snatch you up ,it seemed to be so wrong.?

But thank you,Dad, for the Merry- Go- Round,and thank you for the songs.

I think that life’s like a Merry -Go- round that we are turning on.

And every time it whirls around.someone else has gone.

We don’t know how long we’ll ride our horses, so merry,and  so gay.

So enjoy the Revolution now,and  say what you  need to say.

Back to reality:the way we were and are

I have a Jewish friend who asked me why the Allies did not help the Jews in Europe.It seems not unlike the fear of letting in immigrants now… but worse.And we know Churchill did questionable things like bombing Dresden which had no military reason.In fact if you read the novel Dresden Green  you will find that it was full of refugees.

Dresden Green

by Nicolas Freeling (Author)

Main article: Bermuda Conference

From April 19, 1943 through April 30, 1943, during the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of 19 April to 16 May, representatives of the governments of the United Kingdom and the United States held an international conference at Hamilton, Bermuda. They discussed the question of Jewish refugees who had been liberated by Allied forces and of those who still remained in Nazi-occupied Europe. The only agreement made was that the war against the Nazis must be won. The US did not raise its immigration quotas and the British prohibition on Jewish refugees seeking refuge in the British Mandate of Palestine remained in place. A week later, the American ZionistCommittee for a Jewish Army ran an advertisement in the New York Times condemning the United States efforts at Bermuda as a mockery of past promises to the Jewish people and of Jewish suffering under German Nazi occupation.[8] Szmul Zygielbojm, a member of the Jewish advisory body to the Polish government-in-exile, committed suicide in protest.[4]

Unreal reality

 

 

Something that is  so common we may not think about it, is an event  liked that  one person claims to love another quite soon after meeting them.Perhaps it’s admiration or lust.Who knows?But most probably they believe that this relative stranger is the person who is going to give them all they need in life.By the way,nobody can give you all you need.

The story is declarations of powerful love,happiness for a few months or a bit longer and then the  END.Because the love was based on projection.The person loved a creation they had made in their imagination.They believe they have found the ONE who embodied this ideal.When they get to know this person it seems  very likely that there will be a gap between the ideal and the real.

Is that the fault of the person who was chosen? Well, it’s a common pattern and flexible people  usually adapt their desires and realise that though not perfect the  loved one is “good enough” or they gently disengage.

.Inflexible people often fiercely  blame the love object for not being the imagined  delight and beauty they   wanted.In fact it seems they were having a relationship with a ghost; with part of their own self and not with an OTHER.Then this other is attacked for being other.

To a lesser or greater extent we all do this in our lives.These imaginings may draw  us to someone.Or falsely deny us even getting to know someone who might be a great friend.

There are so many obstacles in relating to people it’s a wonder we do it at all.Perhaps some people are better at imagining and adapting.And even a gentle break up or letting go is often painful.Sometimes we just give up.

I think nowadays it’s too easy to start relationships without the old patterns of courtship,engagement and marriage.Similarly people may get too friendly too soon and then drop the ” friend” when the find they are utterly different.I remember a man saying to me about a woman he liked a lot:she’s in the BNP[ a racist party].He was shaken.But I knew that she looked very like his sister and so maybe  he imagined unconsciously she would have the same values as his sister did.

I suppose we all have these odd ways of connecting or disconnecting.And it is frequently nothing to do with the actuality of either person.

More frightening is the fact that psychopaths are very charming.Though not all charming people are psychopaths,of course.But it someone has a very powerful charm it may not be a good sign.Someone I know got engaged 2 weeks after meeting a man and ended up divorced and caring for his mother for years, while he ran off with someone else.Speed can be a bad sign…

If we  never learn others are quite different people with different desires,likes and feelings then life is very hard.What I think is  most of us only learn it partially.In a rigid society it may ironically be easier as everything is controlled by rules.In ours it is easy to get into something without ever thinking hard about it.Thankfully true psychopaths are rare but narcissism is increasing.