The Ancient Oak

Through howling winds the tree stands proud
Unfolding its leafy crown
The roots make knots in the soil beneath
It’s leaves shed like tears of grief
The branches never think to tangle
The Tree knows nothing of a world so fragile
As the dandelions and blossoms grow
This ancient oak will embrace life’s flow

True, one day the boughs will snap
It’s mighty trunk seek to nap
This gentle giant wither and die 
Falling to the earth with a smile
Leaving behind some seeds that reap
A wooden tower that can't be meek
The father of the meadows in may
Another oak another day

Turning Lemons Into Lemonade - Part Three

Don't Touch My Lemons

So now that we know how to find our passions and how to recognize that inner voice that if calling us to our divine purpose. We shall look at how to be independent of what other people want for us.

If we are passionate about something and take ownership of ourselves and our purpose then the only way we can fulfill our destiny is to be independent of what others want for us. Many people will tell you what can and can’t be done. As children we were told that we should; go to school, go to college and university. We were told that the thing to do is find a job to make money, own a home, marry and have children. Most of these things were bread into us by our well meaning parents, teachers and role models.

As we grew up we were told to; follow the rules, be good citizens, fill in the forms and pay the taxes. None of these manifestations should be looked upon as wrong for almost everyone has followed this dynamic and should. The trouble with this these ideals is that they are not necessarily aligned with our divine purpose. So by combining an ordinary life with following our dreams, we will reach new heights in our lives. In order to follow our destiny its often true that we have to break off from the programming and become something of a disturbing element, breaking the reigns that hold us to the ordinary life that teaches us to fit in with the rest. Instead we should become extraordinary by following the inner voice and reaching a higher conscious level where we believe anything is possible by changing the very concept of ourselves.

The concept of yourself is basically what you expect from yourself. If you believe that you cannot achieve something through what others have said, you will be constrained to the ordinary and make fulfillment in your life unreachable  Here are just some of opinions of others that we listen to and come to believe.

• You won’t be able to afford it
• You haven’t got the grades to do that
• There is a recession, you will never be able to start a business
• How are you going to make money out of doing that?
• You should really be like you brother and become an accountant
• Your father always wanted you to join the army
• It’s too difficult
• So many fail that its not worth doing yourself
• You are too old
• You are too young
• You don’t have enough experience
• You should really go to university

If we are steadfast in our intentions to accomplish something and live a life of great fulfillment  then we should not listen to these mantras for they will prevent us from fulfilling our dharma. We will grow old regretting  and wishing that we had listen to our hearts to begin with.

Sometimes you need to live your life on ethics. Imagine if Rosa parks had followed the rules and sat at the back of the bus that day in Montgomery. The world would be a very different place, riddled with discrimination. But due to Rosa parks becoming a disturbing element, breaking the rules and following her heart, she changed the way we look at different races. She changed the entire believe system from whites are separate from blacks to we are all equal and entitled to exactly the same conveniences and conditions. She broke from the ordinary and created something very extra ordinary. There is something inside of all of us that can do the same.

In order to live the life that we truly desire we must listen to our own voices. I’m not saying that we should break the rules, not be a good citizen and totally ignore what people say (We should never be harmful towards others or act immorally) What I’m saying is that we should also listen to what our hearts are telling us, contrary to what people have told us about what is or isn't possible. We need to become something of a disturbance. Breaking the bond we have to an ordinary life, which to my mind is a half-lived life. If we are to constantly conform to what others want for us then we end up selling ourselves short and, living up to the expectations of others. We are human beings with our own destinies. Separate from our ego. We are in harmony with others but we should not let peoples expectations for us immobilize us from the path that was intended. Remember we were never taught at school to follow an inner voice.

Watercolours And Smiles

Gentle waves lapped the shore as you gazed longingly out to sea. The tropics were brimming with heat. A celestial glow glistened off the long jetty that stretched out to the horizon. Your long blonde hair blew in the soft breeze, your dress swaying like a flag. My heart shimmered as I stepped onto the jetty. I knew I had to approach. I had waited all my life to see you again. Every fibre of my being had been fixated on this meeting for years. It had to be here, it just had to be here that I found you.

You looked back at me, knowing that I was walking towards you. The sound of tropical birds seemed to get louder and the trumpets of anxiety were deafening as my eyes met yours. With every step of my flip flops on the wooden beams beneath, I was thinking of what to say. My lips were dry as I walked closer and closer towards you. 

‘Hello its been a long time’ I was surprised I was able to meet with my voice.

‘Yes it has. You knew I would be here didn't you? I cannot tell you how long I have waited to see you, to here your voice…’ 
Your complexion looked more and more vibrant up close.

Yes I did. I just knew somehow. You always dreamed of living in your paintings. Being able to immerse yourself in the different shades of blue, feel the ocean breeze on your face, your skin burning in the heat. It must feel amazing’.

‘Yes it is blissful. This was my only opportunity to feel it. And now that you have found me, I feel complete, as if my life has gone full circle’ You say.

‘Yes it’s a shame I never managed to take you here, you would have loved it for your paintings, it’s picture perfect.’ Slight tears well up in my eyes as I speak.

‘Please don’t cry! How are things?’ You say giving me that unmistakable look.

‘Life’s good thank you. The kids are just playing in the water with Sandra, they love it here.’

‘You happy with the way you are living?’ You ask.

‘Yes making lots of money, as you can tell being in such a stunning place as this’

‘You make me proud’

You bring me to tears, standing with an awkward stance. I want to touch you but cant.

‘Well you always made me proud‘. I say while sobbing.

‘I must go now David, you know I have to’ You say with a slice of guilt.

I take in a much needed breath of air and pour my heart out to you.

‘I wish I could stay here forever, see those beautiful green eyes again and again. The warmth of your presence. The scent you have, like the summer blossom. Its as if the sky has beckoned us, enclosed us in a bubble of love. The sun showing us the way to eternity. I love you with all my heart. You were there through all the hard times and all the good times. You were my rock on a stormy sea, my faithful shell of hope. I owe my life to you’.

You look back at me with a glowing smile. Without a reply. You vanish into the sea blue sky. I shed more tears, knowing that the moment had gone. Faded into the waves as you left. Would we ever meet again? I could only dream. I took a slow stroll back onto the beach where Sandra and the children were playing football. 

‘You were daydreaming over there weren't you’ Said Sandra with a cheeky grin

‘Yes I had lost track of time. I’m sorry‘. I wipe my eyes frantically.

‘Don’t worry about it, we are here to relax’

The children surrounded me, attempting to pin me to the ground, I grab one and wrestle him onto the sand, tickling his tummy. A folded piece of paper falls from the pocket of my shorts. Sandra notices it

‘You dropped this’

‘Its okay you can open it’

She slowly unfolds the paper, that is slightly torn and well fingered. It’s a painting of the beach with the jetty, the sun beaming down, kids playing in the sand, a family scene depicted in a beautiful watercolour’

Did you do this? ’ Sandra asked with a puzzled look.

‘No of course not but if you walk to the end of that Jetty you will find the lady who did. I’m sure she would want to meet you’

She looked at me with a confused look. Sammy jumped on my back, grabbing my neck and pulling at my wavy hair.

‘Come on you little rascal’ I chased after him running in the deep sand and falling over several times, clumsily.

Meanwhile Sandra’s inquisitiveness gets the better of her, she turns over the painting and reads to herself the sloppy handwriting on the back.


To David,

I hope one day you will find yourself in this painting. Find a wife who appreciates you and loves you as much as I do. I hope you have children, you will make a great Dad, you always had a knack with children right from an early age. I don’t have long left as you know. But I just want to tell you this. Make something of your life, Be someone. Be love, Be kindness. Be hope and be faith. I wish I would have done more in my life, gone to the places that I created in my paintings but my time is nearly up. Yours has only just began. Don’t die with your music still in you. I love you and I hope when I’m gone you will find me in this painting somewhere in the tropics maybe on a business trip or family holiday. Whatever you do don’t forget to smile.

Love Mum xxx

---

I walk back to Sandra exhausted after chasing Sammy. I smile instantly knowing she had read the letter on the back. 

‘You have made her proud David, you have made her very proud. She said

I Don’t forget to smile and never did from that day on.

Turning Lemons Into Lemonade - Part Two

Finding Your lemons

In the last part of ‘Turning Lemons into Lemonade’ we established that we all have lemons inside of us. In others words talents and passions. In this part we will look at how to find your true passion in life.

At infant school I was quite an introverted student. I barely spoke to anyone in my classrooms or even at lunch times. I could easily look back on these times as detrimental to my life and pass blame onto the fact I was an only child, not growing up with a Brother or Sister. But as I've gotten older I realise that this was a blessing and that it has shaped my life in the most positive of ways. I'm not saying that all writer's grew up without brothers and sisters. I am of course speaking from personal experience. It depends very much on the person but I feel this is the reason for my own talents.

My lack of interaction with others meant that I was able to interact with my own imagination. I became more of an observer of others. With time on my hands I was able to immerse myself in my own imaginative state, comprised of scenes and situations that I created in my futile mind. I felt that it was this, that has propelled me into becoming a writer. Having a mind that is open to everything, attached to nothing and surrounded by a world of endless possibilities. For me writing was a way of escapism, a chance to be the person that I desired and to take up the role of a character in a fictional universe where I was able to express myself.

I am now a different person entirely. I interact with others frequently and have lost my shyness. But the seeds of becoming a writer had already been sown and my passion for writing still burns deep within my soul. I notice the more I write and imagine, claim ownership of my thoughts and dream, the more power I have to bring those fruits into the physical world and enjoy the greatest of riches. Fulfillment and purpose to my life. 

Finding your passion in life is easy enough. All you have to do is recognize what it is that you have a burning desire to do. You have a calling inside that is pulling you in a certain direction, contrary to what anyone tells you about what is possible and what is not. It is that inner voice that you should listen to. This is where you will find your lemons. Passion is the thing that you cant stop thinking about, the thing that awakes inspiration at the drop of a hat. It is the thing that you can spent countless hours talking about. Whether it’s  writing, driving cars, cooking or working with children. There is something in all of us that we have a passion for, that shakes the very foundation of our hearts and erupts an enormous spout of fulfillment to our short time on this planet. 


Everyone has lemons inside of them. No matter how they have came about or why they should be inside of you. Your task is to Claim ownership of them, for they are yours to keep forever.

Ego

A line of sports cars fill the driveway
A balloon pops in the sky
The lady ponders her next promotion
The wheels are already rolling
Naked and bear the ego awaits
To check in a swish hotel via the gates
For who could see that it was snowing
While dining with lanterns glowing 
Jewels and money talk louder than prayer
Says the ego with majestic flare
Spending a Summer’s night under the stars
Another credit card bill, it must be yours
Shuffle through letters and mail
You won’t find any peace in this pile 
For as long as you wear that expensive watch
And brag about cars and frocks 
You will not meet with a life as such
And your ego will run amok 

A Thief In The Gardens

The soft crunch of an ice lolly as it scrapes against your molars is enough to make you shudder. First around your neck then down your spine into the rest of your body, it gives me quite a chill. The numbing cold of the refreshing treat is as cool as the autumnal winds, yet faintly romantic, bringing me back to my happy childhood by the seaside.

It’s not often I do this but today the people from the high rises have taken to the little sun shine that has found its way onto the grassy plains of Cranberry Park. The ice cream man looks somewhat bemused by the influx of lolly loving locals. Staggering towards the van, some amble along with crutches, some with shorts and training shoes, the young, the old and the infirm. It’s quite nourishing to the soul that one man and his ice creams can generate such a relentless stream of happiness through the community.

I take position on one of the many bird shit splattered park benches, beautifully positioned next to the Technicolor majesty of Foxgloves, Pansies and Rhododendron that have no doubt contributed to the floral city award ten years prior. There is a prickly chill in the air, the sun sits in the sky, but its all one big illusion, for it looks bright and is emanating some heat on my pale skin but its not the scorching roast that we were promised. 

I finish crunching the ice lolly all the way down to the woody stick that now leaves that horrible wooden tang on your taste buds. Is this what tree bark tastes like? I discard the horrible piece of timber into the litter bin next to me. I’m wearing stone wash jeans, brown suede shoes and a blue striped button up shirt that now carries a small brown Cappuccino stain. I scrape my shirt as if the stain is going to disappear by magic. Finally deciding its best not to draw attention to it.

To be honest the ice lolly had not filled me up in the slightest. I’m forever hungry. You will not be pleased to know that I’m one of those arrogant people who go about saying ‘I eat loads of junk but never seem to put on weight’. It really is true though, the amount of times that I have failed to resist the tantalizing treats of burger vans, fast food chains and cookie stalls and still unable to pinch an inch of my belly is unbelievable.

I take a walk back to the ice cream van, hands in my pockets like a grumpy schoolboy. I scan the menu (if that’s what you call it) that is stuck on the window presumably with blue tack. 

‘Can I have a packet of chocolate buttons please mate?’

The ice cream man looks at me with a perplexing gaze. You could tell I had thrown him off his script, so many people had ordered ice lollies, Mr whippy’s and choc ices, that a small packet of buttons seemed a bit of a challenge to his caveman mind.

‘Buttons!’ I shout to emphasis the fact he’s dragging the transaction into the next century.

He passes the buttons to me with a screwed up face. I pass him an old 50 pence piece.

‘Thank you’ I say with a tiny drop of sarcasm to boot.

I stroll back to the bench with my buttons and to my absolute horror the bench had been taken up my a tramp. Yes a bloody tramp was sitting there if you please. I could smell his pheromones from a couple of yards away, poising the air along with my fragile nostrils. His dead weight of a sack is taking up the larger half of the bench while his fat arse is lent over it, looking down onto the pavement, presumably looking for some crumbs of some sort.

I decide to sit next to him not because I want to, but because I see it as my bench. He’s the one who has stolen it. I pick up the sack and sling it on top of him with anger. He doesn't even glance at me probably, too scared. I am a retired boxer, not that he would know that, but if he did he would scarper like a scolded dog. 

I looked in the opposite direction to him, as if to strengthen my disgust. I turn only to prize one of the chocolate buttons from the packet that sits by my side. Then I become shell-shocked! The dirty old tramp puts his grubby hands into my chocolate buttons, taking one and putting it in his mouth with a smile. The cheeky bugger I thought. I take another one from the packet, while giving him a steely glare. And again he takes one, again with a wry smile. At this point I’m shaking with anger and I’m very close to tossing his sack into the bushes. But it gets worst.

He looks at me again with a cheeky grin on his face. To my surprise he has the temerity to once again pop his hands into the packet and take out three of my buttons and offer them to me. Can you believe the cheek of the man. Never before in my born days have I encountered such a merciless thief. No wonder he’s a beggar no one wants someone who is that nasty and that much of a rotten scrounger. I take the buttons that he has the audacity to offer me and chewing them frantically. There are now two left in the packet, I take both of them before he can get his paws on them.

I have a bit of a temper and who could blame me? Of all the places that dirty thief could be, he choose my bench to plonk himself. I sit up from the bench, not saying a word to him. As I walk further up the lane that kinks and veers through the beautiful gardens, I place my hands in my pockets once more. I suddenly stop in my tracks. The sun beating hotter and the smell of nectar filling the air. And there to my astonishment, were my packet of chocolate buttons, they were in my pocket the whole time. With a glance back at the bench, I realised that the tramp wasn't a thief after all. The beggar had saved up for those sweets all day, it was his bench, his chocolates and I was the thief!

The Story So Far - Inspiration

After blogging for the last few days, I realise that the words flow through my body onto the screen as if the literary fairies have sprinkled some magic dust over my head. It has certainly been an exciting week, for my inspiration has soared and my motivation to put pen to paper, so to speak has put me on the next rung of the proverbial writing ladder. I would like to thank all of those who have taken the time to read through my work, ‘like’ or comment. Your support is valued greatly as I continue my journey on this road of writing. A road which occasionally seems to veer off into unexpected territory (see my first ever poem ‘Dream’).

I think most aspiring and indeed established writers would agree that the most important thing about writing is…writing. Putting words onto a blank document. An empty page is like a demon of misery, grinning at you as if to say ‘I’m so clean and white. I will suck all the inspiration from you so you can’t dirty me with your words’. Despite this little demon I have found a way to defeat the ugly blank page and have inside my head what I wish to write before I open a blank document.

Inspiration can come in many forms whether it’s a conversation I have ear wigged while waiting for the bus. Taking a stroll through the suburbs or simply laying in bed, in that weird half-awake-half-sleep state. There are no rules to what I write, in fact the more I box myself in (‘I only write fiction’ is what I used to say with conviction) the more my creativity suffers.. That is the reason why I have blogged a poem. The words popped into my head, the structure came as I began typing and the rest was history.

I don’t feel experienced enough to give clear cut advice but if I’m talking from my endeavors so far I would say this:

• Keep an open mind to all types of writing, all genres and all formats. Go with your heart not your ego.

•  Don’t be fixated with perfection. Just write what you wish to. It’s true that my work is probably riddled with grammatical errors, its not a big deal. It’s about the content.

• Let go and set your heart free. Let the words flow from your mind, through your finger tips and onto the page. 

• Don’t put pressure on yourself. It’s all about having fun.

I would like to summarize this entry by saying that being inspired is nothing more than getting in a quiet place, free of distraction or noise. A place where images will enter your mind and morph into words. This is what I have managed to do with my recent work. The inspiration behind ‘dream’ was based on own experiences of chasing a passion. ‘Horse’ was inspired by a small picture in a magazine and ‘Lemons’ by nothing more than a casual metaphor. All tiny things but nevertheless they have ignited my creativity.

Trust me, all you have to do is open your mind to creative writing. The literary fairies will visit you just as they have with me. You don’t have to find the words, the words are already there, just waiting for you to get quiet and put them onto that ugly, clean ,white page. Until next time.

The Horse

The little girl dreamt of horses. Tails swishing in the autumnal breeze. The horse’s golden mane shining in the warm October sun. The girl imagined riding such an impressive beast. The magnificence of the animal had encumbered her and taken her mind with a piercing desire. A love so strong that the passion melted into her young soul. Symbolically presented in front of her very eyes within the vacuum of a dream, she stood in wonder and owe of such a beautiful creature.

The sound of the hoofs hitting the ground with a clop, the gallop in her heart was strong and unrelenting. So much so that a stray tear welled up in her soft blue eyes, spilling onto her beautifully designed white dress that swayed in the gentle wind. She walked up to the horse, her heart pounding, her pulse beating with every stride. This was the moment she had waited for all of her young life, to ride a horse so glorious. She flung her leg over its back and shuffled for comfort, taking a quick glance at her father who looked on with enthrallment. 

It began with a steady gallop, moving rhythmically up and down in the sleepy air that encircled them.  The horse ran in a circle. But the sound of the hoofs could not be heard and appeared to be floating on nothing but thin air. The mane was shinier than she had dreamed as she touched it with her dainty finger tips. The tail was stationary, seemingly fixed in motion. Her daddy looked on at his six year old with pride as she rode the horse she had dreamt of, not in the fields of Devon or the rolling hills of Derbyshire but on the busy seafront of Skegness. Daddy couldn’t afford a horse. So round and around the carousel went before coming to a gentle halt. The girl hoped that one day she would get to ride a real one, but at this time the funfair had fulfilled her passion and with a loving squeeze from her daddy they walked off leaving the horse behind to melt the heart of another young child in the soft afternoon light.

Dream

Begin with a thought
A passing daydream in daylight hours
Grab and hold tight the reigns of eternity
And encircle yourself with forests of love
Wait for the burning embers of passion to ignite
And watch as your dream grows its fruits
Seel your soul with beauty
Untangle the threads of doubt
And weave new ones of hope and faith
Seek not to open the door to defeat
And strangle the ego hard
For today’s dream is tomorrows supper
Believe in the unbelievable
For what is possible you are already in possession
And watch while life unveils its colours
So bright they shine
As you dispel the clouds of fear
You will meet with a life so blissful
That you once dared to dream

Turning Lemons Into Lemonade - Part One

Imagine for a second that you have half a dozen lemons in a fruit bowl. The skin a brilliant yellow, waxy and slightly textured. The interior sharp and tangy, a sourness locked inside each beautifully shaped fruit.

You wouldn't pick up a lemon in your hand as if it were an apple and take a big bite. Neither would you peel the skin off like an orange, dividing the segments and munching on those. 

We are therefore aware that lemons aren't much by themselves, unless you want your taste buds to receive an unwelcome pounding by the waves of sourness that screw up our faces.

So what can we do with six lemons? Well we can squeeze lemon juice onto pancakes, or fish. We can use them as ingredients for a cake or other deserts of our choice. Better still we can make lemonade out of them. That is use the juice from all of our lemons and turn something that we find difficult to tackle as they are into something as sweet and as tasty as fresh lemonade.

The truth is we are that fruit bowl and each of us have lemons inside us. We sometimes refer to them in our daily lives to bring us success and prosperity. Symbolically the lemons are the talents we have inside of us. Everyone has an expertise, a passion or a gift we were born with. Something that stays inside of us until we die. A divine purpose that gets us inspired and motivated.

These lemons inside of us rarely leave our fruit bowl, but we all use them in moderation. Whether we bring our talents to an everyday problem, a job or a job interview. Like dormant forces they often stir inside of us and when we do apply them they can bring us unimaginable qualities of happiness and a profound sense of fulfillment in life.

So the question is rather than just squeezing a little of our lemon juice onto our lives once and a while. Isn't it about time we turned our lemons into lemonade and make something out of our talents, something fresh, something new, something that is going to make our lives change for the better?

Introduction

Welcome to my brand spanking new blog 'Words From the Soul'. My purpose for this blog is to document the progress of my creative writing course that I am enrolling in this October at The Open College of the Arts as well as giving out some inspirational/motivational wisdom to my readers. It has taken a lot of careful thought and planning, weighing up seemingly endless options. But finally I have found the right course for me, a course that will take the best part of seven years to complete.

Creative writing has always been a deep passion of mine. I wrote loads as a child, in notebooks brought from varies stationary and gift shops around the country. I would all most always use one notebook per story. Never finish it then buy another notebook. I have a vast amount stored in my wardrobe. Screwed up pieces of A5 with maybe a line or two, some making for good reading, others hardly legible. It has indeed took me a while to realize that this is a passion and talent worth utilizing for giving me a great sense of fulfillment in life. I do not claim to have a great academic background behind me nor am I a typical student. But knuckling down is the only way I will meet my purpose in life and become a better person, with one eye constantly on the horizon, gazing at my future on this beautiful planet.

As audacious as it may seem I aim to combine this creative writing course with public speaking via Toastmasters. This was something I loathed at school but apparently I was quite good at it. Therefore I feel that its part of my destiny too. I have a keen interest in spirituality and metaphysics. I believe wholeheartedly that everyone on this planet is connected to a source, a soul in which is eternal and that opens up are consciousnesses to endless possibilities. So it would be easy for me to revert back to my old ways before embarking on this course and using affirmations such as 'I'll never be able to do that', 'I'm not that good', 'I'm wasting my time' But the new improved me hopes to take to this en-devour like a duck to water, ignore any doubt and fulfill my destiny as a writer and speaker. 

From now on any significant thoughts that I have that are related to my course will be posted on this blog. I will also be teaching some spiritual and motivational wisdom that I have learnt through trials and tribulations in my own life. I believe that there is a teacher and a student in all of us. Learning is the most powerful tool of them all. It gives us a wisdom so great that we can pass it on to others with enormous passion and enthusiasm. I will be as keen as mustard to partake in the challengers that await me. I will enjoy every second, no matter how grueling it will be because if there's one thing I have learnt it's this; 

'There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way!'