The Silence in the middle of a wood

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Mary woke up as she heard a strange noise.Except it was not as she had overslept.
She put her head out of the window where a young man was standing by the wall
You can leave their parcel here, she cried in her muffled shriek
I have come to collect one, he responded
But they are not at home, she informed him.They have emigrated
No wonder, the man said.I’d like to escape from Dominic Cummings
Has he captured you?
He damages my soul and God is angry
Let’s leave God to one side.I know how you feel, I think
Thank you very much.God will remember
Mary sat in bed and wondered where Stan was.Suddenly she realised he was dead.
Emile came in purring loudly
Emile, is Stan really dead?
I think so although sometimes I think I see him in the kitchen with his Robert Carrier cookbook
Tears came into Mary’s eyes remembering all the meals Stan cooked
He would be horrified if he saw her eat a frozen shepherd’s pie or macaroni cheese straight from a tin
At least I still use Earl Grey Tea, she thought intelligently
Mary drank tea from a large blue mug; in fact it was half a pint of tea. She looked at her phone to see if any emails from her friends were there but none of her friends had written to her which could hardly be surprising as they had all written to her the day before
She saw a letter from British Gas offering her help during the lockdown but she didn’t use gas anymore. if they had been more compassionate when she was having trouble with her boiler she might still be using it but she had decided that gas was a bad thing; it made her think about horrible things like Sylvia Plath and the Holocaust
On the other hand electricity has also been used to harm people and kill them in the United States ;what was the answer?
The best thing is to get up at once. she said and read The Guardian the Times, Independent newspaper The Telegraph and the London Review of Books.By the time she has read all of those who would go back to bed?
Only a sex addict and has she had no husband that was impossible
After all, who prefers a plastic vibrator to a loving man or woman?Mary decided 4 Weetabix and some milk would make a very nice breakfast
Where is my breakfast, called Emile louder?
Oh dear I am very sorry , would you like some kippers for your breakfast
Thank you, Mother
How many times do I have to tell you that I am not your mother; I am human and you are a cat
But you are my mother in a metaphorical sense :you look after me, you feed me, you bath me
On the other hand I sleep on your bed and if I was your son you would not want me to sleep on your bed would you since I’m 18 years old?
No, it might look like incest Mary replied humorously but would an 18-year old youth be attracted to an older lady
Don’t ask me, he said, I am just a cat
I would not know my own mother if I met her and if she was willing I might even mate with her without knowing that she was my mother. God is very kind to animals in some ways but on the other hand why does he let people hunt and kill for fun?
Well he would not tell Job nor his so-called comforters so I don’t know whether he’s going to tell me; if he did tell me I might not be able to understand
Why not, said the cat?
When we don’t know what language God speaks how can we talk to him?
Only by paying attention in the Silence in the middle of a wood or a cathedral as long as it was not full of tourists and and dogs
Are dogs allowed to go inside a cathedral?
I don’t know said Mary I have never thought about it before but I would imagine they are banned because they might start Barking at the wrong moment
I could go to church, Emile cried
Do you want to go to church , Mary asked him
If there is nothing else to do, I will go to church, he mewed
That is not the right attitude, she told him, God is more important than anything else at all
How do you know God is not here in the house
Yes he is; he is everywhere but we can’t see him except in the eye of a child or or the smile of an old man when he is going to die peacefully in the arms of his wife
And what about the wife? the cat pondered<Shall I have to hold you in my arms so that I can see God in your smile as you pass away
Oh dear me said Mary. I never thought of that I am too big to go into your arms. I can go on a diet and save money by only eating half a tin of Heinz macaroni cheese for my supper and half a tin of vegetable soup for my lunch
It is impossible, the cat told her, because even if I eat a lot my legs will never go any longer and as mathematician you should be able to see that you would have to become as small as a tiny baby before I could put my arms around you
The end of a wonderful dream,sighed Mary
I’ll have to ask somebody else Dr Patel maybe if I can die in his arms|
It is like the ultimate act of love to allow someone to die in your arms but one can’t do it too often as it is too emotionally and spiritually demanding
I agree, mother, the cat told her and now I’m going outside to try and catch you some frogs from the pond next door, goodbye.

To return love for hate—- is it possible?

rock formation
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What is humor except crossing a boundary?
I wish I were an ivy growing on your wall
I wish I were a berry
Just about to fall
I wish I were a hazelnut
And you would break a tooth
For my name is Sally
and not, and not,not Ruth
Image
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Digital art by blogger Katherine

Do it yourself

Your nail scissors can be sterilised and used to remove the stitches from your surgical wound if you can’t get an appointment with the nurse.

You can use your phone to take photographs of your surgical wound so that you can send them to your doctor to see whether it’s infected or not.

You can also use your phone how to take photographs of your teeth if you break one and are not sure about going to the dentist.

I have tried using a magnet to remove those little metal clips they put on wounds but it doesn’t work. The doctor was not very pleased about it but then when can you see a doctor in the United Kingdom?

Remember if you use a saw to amputate your toe your foot will bleed. It will hurt as well so is it really necessary to do that? If you are diabetic you will probably die very soon so why not hang yourself instead if you are ready to depart and you won’t leave such a mess behind you

Changing your wound dressing | Kent Community Health NHS Foundation Trust

https://www.kentcht.nhs.uk/leaflet/changing-your-wound-dressing/

When the hospital tell you to see the GP on a circuit to get

your dressing changed but you can’t get an appointment with the GP surgery through the nurse

Trust

“All shall be well,and all manner of things shall be well”
St Julian of Norwich

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of mutual giving,
Created you,a brand new self.

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all must live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise
And I trust all shall be well.

I have no head for verse

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I have no rest from humour
I am very quite.
I arrested humour
I am growing my own body.
Do you like tripe?
I like tea  in my cups
Off with his dread
What was it I did?
I’ll never tarry again
I don’t like men without arts
What was the silver swan?
Why did the Pope design?
Do you believe rowing to church is  wrong?
Do you still refresh your sins weekly?
Welcome to my  comb.
The toilet is free to the first liar
May we borrow your saw. The see saw?
Do you believe the Nicene read?
Why?

The humour of intimacy

Dunnock_2018-3 - CopyDunnock_2018-2 - Copyhttps://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/intimacy

“They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

Jane Austen

“It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”
― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
“Jason once told me that eye contact is the most intimacy two people can have — forget sex — because the optic nerve is technically an extension of the brain, and when two people look into each other’s eyes, it’s brain-to-brain.”
― Douglas Coupland, Hey Nostradamus!

Hit the bed

Helleborus_EricSmithii2018.jpgHumour usually helps us,It helps physical illness,tension,depression,stress.It helps people to forgive each other and it helps our minds to function better,There are lots of books with collections of humour from different sources, different people and different cultures even religions.You can also get good sources from the internet if you want to save money.
Then,think about games we played as children.They were often funny although children can be cruel.Why not make up some jokes yourself as a kind of game.That can be more beneficial than just reading them.Writing also helps when we are ng online.On Penzu you can share too if you wish.
I find my own humour makes me laugh even though I made it up myself
Scientific humour
When you are courting a  handsome man an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That’s relativity.
Alberta MacEinstein [Ms]
When you are making her tea with parboiled water, remember that she might empty the pot on you and then where would you be?
That’s uncertainty.
Wendy Heisenberg.{Dr}
I was raised as a Catholic,taught always to commit at least one sin prior to Confession,never to eat before taking Communion and especially never to Confess before or after eating left over Communion wafers whilst having sex with a rubber man.
Pope Jane 1
A minute reading some blogs seems like it’s been raining for a year, and a minute reading a naughty joke makes women wet themselves in seconds.
That’s uncommon sense
Tea Leafe.[Mrs]
A man and a woman make love.Then there are three.That’s family life.

They say using your hands is good for you so I hit the bed with a stick and ten mice ran out and asked for asylum.They  already spoke English and knew who Meghan Markle is so I reckon they are British.

A song and a dance

Donald Meltzer has proposed that the genesis of language is essentially two-tiered, having a primitive song-and-dance level (the most primitive form of symbol-formation) for the communication of emotional states of mind … and that upon this foundation of deep grammar there is subsequently superimposed the lexical level of words for denoting objects, actions and qualities of the external world, that is, information. (Meltzer, 1986, p. 181) What we might ordinarily regard as language is only a part of language, and not its most fundamental part. Meltzer distinguishes between a deep musical language, used for communicating about the internal world (that is, states of mind), upon which is built a more superficial, lexical language useful for communicating about the external, material world.4 Michael Paul (1989) has described the rhythm, pace and intonation of patients’ speech, and how th

Without Memory or Desire. Wilfred Bion, was a psychoanalyst who… | by Conway Hall | Medium

https://medium.com/@ConwayHall/without-memory-or-desire-aa865408f1a0

Looking into the eyes of another is an enormous act, if it is done properly. More often than not there is a mountain to climb. Personal obstacles, detritus, and bizarrely formed theories swerve into position, as if to ‘protect’ us from the infinite array of potential experiences that might ensue once we open our eyes. Can we converse without memory or desire? Can we allow ourselves to be open to the terror of what might happen if we do? Is it unethical to not even try?

This last one I can answer and it’s with a resounding “Yes”.

These are my personal views on ethics and they are not intended to represent the views of Conway Hall Ethical Society.
Dr. Jim Walsh

Originally published at conwayhall.org.uk on August 2, 2015.

53

Being alive unchosen may be worse

If you think of Auschwitz think of this

Your children will not die by means of gas

All of us will walk that final path

But we have lived our lives so on we pass

The Jews of Europe killed without a word.

The death of God no longer feels absurd

What they might have given forever lost.

Prescription murder,there will be a cost.

As we walk around in obscene dress

The rational and objective caused this mess

Be thankful that our God did not choose us.

Yet being unchosen and alive is worse.

Our father Aneurin Bevan

Our Father,Aneurin Bevan,
Exploded is thy game;
Why,Kingdom come,
Before thy will be done.
Gone N.H.S,Gone Heaven.
Give us fair pay,our daily bread;
Don’t leave us on piece rates,
As we confront those who legislate against us.
And feed us not with deprivation,
But deliver us from Weasels.
For thine was the Fair Game,the Hour and the Story
Maybe once but ever again?

Is poetry writing therapeutic?

Forms of poetry

Most people who read poetry have heard of Sylvia Plath.She was only 30 when she died but  is now a top poet of the 20th century… her  ambition was fulfilled.But if poetry writing is therapeutic as many people believe,why did it not help her?
I read an article about this  but am sad to  say i can’t find the reference.The author claimed that writing  structured poetry like sonnets is more likely to be therapeutic.Nowadays though,free verse and non structured  poetry is what is fashionable.Rhymes are not.Think of modern music cocmpared to Schubert or Haydn… you get the point.
Plath’s poetry was ,in a way,violent.She went to her depths but as she already had suffered a severe breakdown and  more recently  was deserted by her husband her depths were full of pain and anguish.And she had sole care of two little infants.Was it worth it?
So it you feel you want to write for therapy,try writing in  a traditional form.The structure contains the feelings better.

Where wild flowers  grow, where butterflies float on

by-the-lily-pond-in-a-wood-brighter (1)
Art by Katherine 2014

The path on Arnside Knott came to the shore
Where river and sea  meet at my heart’s core
Where wild flowers  grow, where butterflies float on
The views of Lakeland Hills ,so ravishing

My heart was  only half alive till then
The land surpassed imagination
I was used to mills and dirty air
Despite the heather moors and hilltops bare

Later death came near on Langdale Pike
My fingertips were hurting,feet agape
Then my toe was back on a foothold
The shadow of the mountain huge and cold

Beauty,love and death, the opera calls
Singing as we walk the danger walls