heaven gained an angel...

woke up to sad news of Dr. Wayne Dyer passing away... he was the first of the Big Teachers i found when back in Holland, back in the early Noughties, when i was in desperate need of Wisdom and Enlightenment, feeling incredibly deflated by life in my home town, and later in the town where the kids went to school. it just wasn't flowing, and then my brother was getting rid of a load of books, amongst which was one of Dyer's... a godsend, i felt...

this book got me going on the tracks of self-analysis, but in a kind, gentle, positive way, not one where i'd carry on criticising myself, finding all the bits that i wasn't doing right... or just wasn't... as i had been doing for the years that i was with mr G. cos i thought that was how it worked...

after him there were quite a few more, all in the spiritual realm, all teaching me things i was desiring to learn about. but he kept popping back into my thoughts, being the kind, sweet, wise father figure i seem to be looking for in my life...

may his soul rest in peace {and his light shine on...}

watching the lecture {?} he gave on the Power of Intention, again...

woodstock at 46

apparently {according to the Hippies that i follow on Facebook} it's now 46 years ago that Woodstock was happening. i was born in the same year, and feel a strange kind of connection to it, still loving the music that i know from most of the bands/acts that were on.

a small selection of my faves

a place for wussies

while watching the mini-series on BBC2 on the lives and loves of the various members of the Bloomsbury Group - Life In Squares - it became very clear to me that, as an introvert and very sensitive person, England was a far more suited place for me to live than Holland has ever been...

where i lived, in East Sussex, i was regularly thrilled by the room there seemed to be for gentle souls, for delicacy and subtlety. for beautiful flowery gardens, and dreaminess and meandering, pleasantness and politeness... for those who have no truck with the demands of The Real World... don't get me wrong, there were plenty of highly strung and un-subtle folks about, especially in towns, with poverty and problems, so it wasn't a total Valhalla... it disturbed me, but on the whole i was glad i'd found somewhere where i wasn't feeling weird, or wrong... i relished visits to places like Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, or Charleston Farmhouse, learning about people who seemed to be celebrated for being wussies, for living lives wrapped up in dreams and fantasy...

Mr G detested that side of the country. the pandering to the pathetic and the 'needy', loving the Self-Reliance that the Dutch seemed to have in bucket loads. for a long time i found myself trying to bridge his strong dislike for England and my own dislike for being here, falling into a kind of splits... i needed him to like me, but it started to feel incredibly wrong... was i just being unrealistic? was i just being too dreamy for my own good? maybe Mr G was right, and did i need to buckle up, to get over myself, to be stronger and more self-reliant, as were the people around me. not needing to be pandered to... but when do i lose sight of who i really am? why can i not celebrate my own dreaminess? combine it with an inner strength? maybe he needs to get in touch with his own wussy side...

i don't know... it's probably time to let go of what others think is right, and follow my heart once again... who knows where it might lead to...

tomorrow is that last episode of the mini-series i mentioned.... maybe i'll get the dvd of it...