Bullshite and Empathy

A cautious, ‘Hi’, here.

My response to Mark, at https://healingyourheartfromwithin.com.au/2019/08/28/empathy/

was becoming rather lengthy so I figured, make a post of it.

I reckon there are others who feel as I do.

Forgive me, Mark, please, for using a comment as a post. Haven’t quite mastered the art of brevity.

Hi Mark, the prodigal Scot is dipping her toes back in WP waters and you’re the first one I came across in my comments. I don’t even know if I’ll read anything else.

No, I’ll visit Beth at Colemining. You and she are two of strong connection. And that might be it.

Some of the lovely people I had met on here don’t figure in my thoughts when I’m away. That’s just life. Fleeting moments of remembrance and brief connection and we move on.

I hardly know why I’ve been away so long but your post has struck a chord.

Empathy.

It’s a bugger for me. Not only me. I was speaking to one of my sons recently and he was feeling emotionally and mentally drained to the point of …not depression…but similar… a hopelessness. He works with troubled young people while also studying at uni. He feels. He feels the world. It’s painful. I tried to explain what you are saying, in your post, but I don’t think I got it myself.

One of my daughters is the same. Mostly, the others of my crew practise a lot of sublimation. Or, maybe they just deal with the part of the world they have any control over and they’re better at separating the two than some of us are. Force them, and they’ll talk. They’ll give their opinions. They’ll tell you their beliefs. But, mostly, they get on with life. And I try to do the same.

But a few of us here struggle with the realities of what is happening all over and fluctuate between action and inaction, depending on how much energy we have left after dealing with life.

Empathy. The drain.

I’m struggling with the world. My own corner of it. What a mess is going on here. That’s kind of why I’ve been absent from WP. I decided to do something instead of writing and talking about it. But I’m not sure that what I’m doing is making any difference. Any more than words would.

Communication, for me, has always been key to dealing with people. Although, frankly, I don’t really relish being with people. It’s like I love humanity but I’m not so fond of it on an individual basis.

Someone once described an introvert as a person who can party hard with everyone else but needs a long time to recover. I rather liked that description. It fits who I am. I’m compelled to deal with people – kids, mostly – all day and, at the end of it, I just want to sit quietly in a corner. But I can’t, for the most part, because life demands and commands.

I began to take a more active role in politics last year, in the belief that actions speak louder than words. I still think that’s the case but those who have the time for action tend not to be holding down a full-time job and managing a household. Something always suffers. My writing has. It has become the last thing I do after everything else.

But it’s been bugging me. The same son I was speaking of earlier told me once, ‘Mum, writing’s a constant for you in your life. You always return to it.’

He gets me. The lass who feels the same also writes – in between living.

And that’s the shitty bit.

Something that constantly returns, but has to be put on hold, suffers neglect because arseholes are making a mess of doing the job they’re supposed to be doing.

I’d have been sacked for less.

And quite rightly.

They have all day, every day, to manipulate the world and I – we – are ants in the middle of it. Working till we drop.

I can’t stop seeing a bigger picture. It’s hazy. But not as hazy as I’d like it to be. All too clear, in lots of ways. And I’m bleeding energy for the state of the world.

What do I do about that, Mark?

How do I make empathy work for me? For the world? Because, right now, all it’s doing is draining me of the hope that has been as constant as the writing.

Thank god, right now, we have the September Weekend – a four-day break from work that’s a Scottish holiday. How I need it!

 

I had no intention of posting anything on WP. Hasn’t even figured in my mind at all in months. But, your post, Mark, speaks to me. I just don’t get it.

I don’t know how to separate what I think and feel from my energy source. When I think, I feel. When I feel, I’m exhausted.

I need a course on how not to let thinking and feeling drain me.

I need to retire, quite frankly!

But, I’m not going to do that until I see a world fit for my kids. This momma didn’t raise no cannon fodder!

Just tell me how to stop feeling everything and letting it bleed me dry.

If not, tell me a joke so’s I can laugh and move on.

And, I’m only half kidding.

I need a laugh to deal with the bull.

Thank god, I have a few comedians here who keep me smiling despite angst. Great leveller is humour. And so much truth in it too.

(There’s a slight glitch in the video but it only lasts seconds and it’s well worth hearing till the end)

Head For Home

It must be evident, to anyone tuned into Westminster politics, that the representatives, elected by the Scottish people, are out of place in that house. It is a house of representation for English politicians. Numbers and attitude confirm that this is no union of equal nations. So be it. @SNP, come on home. Build bridges here.

You’ve done all you can

With ideas, open hands

Eyes and ears ever mindful

To their plans

They’ve made grave mistakes

Now we need a break

They’re ‘on the make’

We must be done

 

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

 

You’ve ‘seen all the frowns

On the faces of the clowns’

Ignore the vows that they made

Unguaranteed

And you’ve heard all the noise

From Westminster’s prams and toys

‘But they don’t mean a’ thing

If we’re not free

 

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

 

You’ve been to that place in that town

Where their words let us down

While they ‘stare at each other’

You’ve lampooned them

‘Screamed at the moon’

They behaved like buffoons

And you’ve discovered

 

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

 

You’ve travelled the land

Their trajectory, crash land

Seen their faces in that place

Misunderstand

Yes, you’ve witnessed their world

Seen their tactics unfurled

And their ‘noise

That destroys and commands’

 

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

Head for home

‘Run as fast as you can

Oh-oh-oh run’, repeat, come right on home

 

The Illusion

Same song, different day
Carnival is still in play
Donald Trump and Theresa May
Shit and sawdust strewn our way

Ever apt it seems

scottishmomus

Below are the words I wrote to one of Johnny’s amazing tunes. It’s called, ‘The Illusion’.

It made me think of the circus (which I hate). And politics. And we, the people. This world of ours.

I hope you enjoy the results of this particular collaboration.

Some people may be offended by some of the images. What can I say? I’m offended by them too.

Here is the circus, here is the street,

Ringmaster has found the beat,

Try to keep up with his song,

Try to march in time along.

 

This is the game we all play,

Carnival is now the way,

Jugglers, clowns perform, we pay,

Sideshow stalls have won the day.

 

See, look, the Big Top, there go the lions,

Whipped to submit, they stride in time,

Prancing ponies do their thing,

All well-trained for circus ring.

 

Fire-eaters and trapeze acts,

Contortionists, acrobats,

Bearded lady…

View original post 272 more words

Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief

cartoon-bank

(source)

I’m here for my appointment, said the beggar to the thief

You robbed me blind and now I’d like some back

Oh, no, dear sir, you err, of course, I merely speculated

I lost I know and that’s the shameless fact

Then why are you still loaded while I am on the street

I thought I baled you out and now own you

Ahem, you know it’s complicated, not as clear as that

More like we were broken, you the glue

So let me get this clear, I have need to understand

I salvaged loss, in fact I saved your butt

No need to get shirty, lad, we’re all in this together

We made the mess, we’ll sort it but it’s going to hurt

I’m struggling here to get you, can’t we plainly speak

You’re rich, I’m poor although I own your ass

Well that’s one way of seeing it but where’s your corporate soul

Some ache upon us all, the pain will pass

So where’s your ache exactly, your penury, your pain

How many hungry, homeless bankers do you know

We lost our independence! Our right to play roulette!

Pfft! Our bonuses are checked and par below!

I’m sorry sir, apologies, then how about a loan

I’ll pay you back with interest from my shares

Well that would be quite reasonable but you’re too much of a risk

The exit to the queue is over there

You’re dissing me? You rascal! You rogue! You scallywag!

A thief you are, no honour in your tribe

Security! Begone with him, this customer’s quite mad!

I’ve work to do and stolen swag to hide…..

 robber-wearing-suit-carrying-money_63354346 (source)

…Ah, the pains of being a robber with the governments on side

The chores, the laundry, tasks we must surmount

The little folks don’t understand the daily grind endured

Ka-ching! Ka-ching! Incoming! Let me at it! Dosh to count!

‘Don’t cry…my brothers

Don’t cry…my sisters….

Don’t cry….don’t cry…

Don’t cry….don’t cry

These tears won’t change the situation’

 

After Valentine’s Day

Lisa’s post, https://undergroundenergy.wordpress.com/2016/02/12/what-the-hell-walmart/?c=15176#comment-15176, finished with the sentence, ‘Love me the day after Valentine’s Day’. It rang true to me and sounded like the title of a song. My attempt at some lyrics is below. I do, however, still accept chocolate at any point in the year. And flowers are always welcome too. 😉

Don’t need your bouquets

Your silk-ribboned boxes

Don’t need your love for one day

Don’t want your chocolates

Your presents and whatnots

Need love after Valentine’s Day

Don’t want attention

Because someone mentions

Cupid and hearts or harp strings

Can’t see the point of 

Being nudged to fulfil love

Never needed such things

Don’t bring me roses

Or cards with trite prose

Who needs romance for a day

Heartbeats and flowers 

For twenty-four hours

No one should live quite that way

Empty of promise

If we’re being honest

Love that lives for one day

Needs renewed, redefined

For although cards are fine

Who can hear what they say

I need a voice near

A daily small voice near

That loves ’til the end of all time

Keep your midwinter candy

Although sweet is dandy

I need a love less refined

A man for all seasons

Who doesn’t need reasons

But loves me because it’s today

Each day of the year

Ev’ry day holds me near

Come whatever life may

Bring me yourself love

Who needs the white doves

I need a man who will say

I want you today and

I’ll need you tomorrow

I’ll love you after Valentine’s Day

Panic! At The Disco

Seamless join, do you think?!

I only came across this group tonight via Daniel’s latest post, https://danielswearingen.wordpress.com/2016/02/05/tehillim-hallelujah-150-2/. I really like the special effects on the one that’s there and on the second one up yonder ^^^. Off to another disco. Roasting the hell out of Youtube tonight. 😉

How We’ve Danced

These are lyrics to a tune that popped into my head on the way to work this morning. Can’t get it out of my brain now. And I’m wondering if it’s even my own tune. Ever do that? I have another one that my kids think belongs to some Disney movie but have no idea which. I think they’re havering but I can’t be sure because it feels familiar to me after singing it so many times. If I wake up humming it again, it’s mine.

What happened to the music while we danced

While we danced

What happened to the music while we danced

What happened to the graceful glide

The simple moves we didn’t hide

What happened to the music while we danced

What became of breathing while we danced

While we danced

What became of breathing while we danced

Where the fields of open doors

The honesty of earthen floors

What became of breathing while we danced 

Wherever did we go while we danced

While we danced

Wherever did we go while we danced

Disappeared like so much rain

Forgotten drops, fragmented pain

Wherever did we go while we danced

Shall we dance again in that old style, in a while

Shall we dance again in that old style

Elegant and erudite, embrace once more by kinder light

Shall we dance again in a while

What happened to that world where we danced

While we danced

What happened to that world where we danced

A simpler ball inside no walls

 One sky protecting one and all

What happened to that world after we danced

Oh, what happened to our world, how we’ve danced

Fuck Barriers – Flight or Fight

barbed wire

Cold Fence by Thomas & Dianne Jones CC BY 2.0

the other side of barbed

holds new horizons

but tangled undergrowth

and fenceposts bar the way

stout boots, stout hearts,

a motorcycle

no fucker’s gonna block us

come what may

Written for Mindlovemiserysmenagerie Photo Challenge #94

May Wishes All Come True

May the world bestow you clothing

when your tree is leafless, bare

May you always have a flint for light

to guide from here to there

May hunger be assuaged for you

whatever be its form

And may love and friends be always true

their comfort ever borne

May you give to others gladly 

with a heart that’s open, full

May fairness, justice be your way

and mercy be the rule

May others give you gifts from life

may you do, in return

May wisdom be your seeing eye

and may we always learn

Wishes for myself I give

and share them here with you

May all I wish for me be yours

and may wishes all come true.

I sang this song at my eldest brother’s wedding many moons ago. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last. That’s life. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep right on trying though, eh? How wishes come true.