honest, and oh-pen (or how friends are much better than lovers)

My wonderful daughter just got her A2s.

I love her for who she is, but I love what she achieves as well.  She’s a battler and a fighter, and a person with a hugely well-formed moral and intellectual universe.  She got Bs in Psychology and Art, and A in Film.  And she already had an unconditional to study Fine Art Foundation this coming year.

She didn’t expect it, and I am so very proud.  Sometimes the good do get rewarded.  Sometimes it is so.

And these are the moments in life when everything fits …


And so I realise, myself, as I return from moments of huge joy over the weekend, that it’s actually all right for me to be honest and oh-pen: only, I must choose the place, the person and the moment.

And over the weekend, I got to deepen real friendships with real people, who really value me.  And friends are so much better than lovers, don’t you think?

Yes.  Friends are so much better than lovers.

Especially when the oh-penness you are, and feel, and naturally gravitate to, can ultimately find its natural abode, home and resting-place.


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[cry-(sieze] up) / (tough) love / freedom

Families are good for many things.

At their best, they support and liberate at the same time.  And they are at their best when our definition of what they are is at its best, also.  I mentioned the other day how I had begun to describe and think of those members of my family who I actually like being with not as my family but as my friends.  Conversely, those people I meet and fall in love with, and whose bloodline bears no connection with mine, become what I consider my true family.

I think that’s the best definition of family we can have.  Not blood relations: love relations.

I’m slowly, gradually, soundly, strongly emerging from a long depression which lasted about eleven years.  It was triggered by events which I have gone into recently, but do not need now to repeat: it’s enough to say they hurt me a lot, and I in turn hurt many others too – of multiple generations.

But things are beginning to seem very different.  I can sense, smell, touch and watch it happening.  I am beginning to regain – or maybe that’s gain for the first time – the courage to have the convictions I always believed in.

Family cry-sieze still seize me up a bit, mind: but today – with two fairly minor but whackily dramatised ones, unreasonably and just a tad violently sandwiching a peaceful middle of the afternoon of taking photos on my part – I resisted the temptation to allow such events to drive me into temporary blacknesses.  My brain does weird things usually when moments of familial anguish are pushed my way: my body posture changes; my feelings become very low; a maelstrom of memories – of things I was not allowed to do all my life – crowd into my very being, and my very self, and that very moment.

But today it didn’t happen.

And I am getting much better at preventing it from doing so.

And I know what I need: I need to be free of toxic blood – whether relations or friendships, it’s love I actually need.  And this love may even be fairly tough: yes, I realise that a lot of what’s been happening around my being the last year or so may have constituted that kind of love, offered up by friends and family (ie bloodships and loveships) who perhaps did, after all, know better.

So anyhow.  It’s true.  I am finally getting there.  It’s been a hard ride for us all.

But one day, one very good day, we’ll all have the opportunity to understand freedom.  And I want it for us all.  But mostly, I want it for me.


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time for a green tea, i think (and some other thoughts on friendship)

Meeting at midday cancelled at last moment.


Does tend to happen rather a lot to me, you know.

No matter.

Was probably going to be fairly inconsequential, though definitely agreeable: the person in question is a very interesting, difficult to get a handle on, sort of man.  My sort of person, I guess.

Will do some paperwork first instead, then maybe go off to Liverpool for the day.  Planning my long-weekend retreat will be on the cards too.  Plus going to visit a dear friend when I come back, so that all sounds good.

I’ve got into the habit of calling members of my family who I want to be with my friends, rather than calling them family.  I think this is right, you know.  Just because you are family doesn’t make you my friend.  And just because you are just my friend doesn’t mean you’re not a part of my family.


Time for a green tea, I think.


Time for a green tea …