The Gypsy...

Just imagine... 

your walking along the road to nowhere, you know somethings got to happen because your life's in the gutter, and, you also realise that If you disappeared right now, no one would miss you. You've accomplished nothing. Your thoughts and mood, have been dark for a long time. 

You look around but your vision is cloudy, you're walking, aimlessly. Then it starts snowing. Within a couple of minutes the snow begins to fall hard. You're not dressed for winter, you left the house in a hurry.  Music, you hear music. It's a Christmas Carol...  we wish you a merry Christmas... we wish you a merry Christmas...  its Christmas!  Is it really Christmas? her intuition tells her to follow the music.

In the distance the glow from fairy lights cuts through the haze of falling snow. There are voices, music, and laughter.  It's been so long since I laughed.  I wonder, could I do that again? ... Maybe not.  Since you left, the world's felt lonely, and the way you left confirmed my importance.  Since then, my time has been spent reevaluating who I am, my purpose, and where I'm going, or actually, do I want to be here? and like a recording, I'm stuck...  Death is final.  Its so inviting, but not to be taken lightly. I need to think everything through.  Mind you, its not like anyone will miss me, but have I finished, am I really done?

Gaiety is up ahead, the music sounds beautiful, but can I feel beauty, right now? So many questions, so much uncertainty. The music alters, it's gypsy music, violins, and fiddles, jig out the beautiful, and the dark, reminding me of how we use to dance. 

Wiping snow from my eyes, I'm startled as a tall lady steps out from in-front of her brightly coloured stall, 

"Hello my lovely, may I invite you into my space, I have a feeling you won't regret your visit"

Her dark curly hair, cascades down, despite being tied up in a bright turban scarf which holds golden coins that jiggle as she moves. Dressed like a Gypsy, her dark eyes softly stare. She's waits for an answer. 

What do I have to lose? I whisper to myself. Her patience is inspiring,  I know I'm supposed to answer, but this overwhelming, inadequate feeling, monopolises my mind.

"Come, let's talk, I sense you need a friend"

Feeling comfortable, I reach out to hold her hand. The Gypsy pulls me through her sequinned curtain, revealing the smallest room which is beautifully decorated. A tiny round table, two blue velvet covered chairs, shelves, that home books, trinkets and treasures. In the middle of the table sits the most exquisite, crystal snow globe, which rests on a intricate, gold stand, raising it from the linen it sits upon. My senses heighten, I smell delicious aromas, and essential oils.  

"Please, take a seat, let your experience begin" 

Sitting down, I'm unable to draw my eyes away from the globe, its light reflects silver, and golden specs of incredible light, whilst tiny flecks of snow, float around a scene I can't quite see...

The Gypsy settles herself, and asks,

"Shall we begin, my lovely?" 

MJ Ewen

A Predictable World with Unpredictable Adults...

I love the above quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Once some of you read this post you might feel the title seems a bit unreal, all I ask is that you remember I speak from experience, these are my words, and in my heart I know that somewhere along the way, another will read this and it will make perfect sense.

The difference an unpredictable adult can make to gifted children... if we are able to sit down, watch a scene or a time unfold; we’d know answers... the majority of us would say hang on, ‘NO’...  Let’s address this and ensure no child is at the end of that person displaying inappropriate behaviour, and then we’d be able to do something constructive. We would be able to stop a particular scenario and realise that sometimes events do have terrible consequences. I have grown to understand that some children are resilient and able to deal with it, and are often able to self heal, but sadly some can’t. The potential in living with unstable adults is that quite often it can have a dreadful outcome, especially if the adults around are ignorant, not supportive, or worse still, in denial.  

It’s important to remember that any affected child, could be damaged before help is received. I still cringe at the thought of the amount of times; others must have simply passed us by.  It happens though, and usually it’s because the unseen or frozen children slip through the net, or the adults responsible are so clever in their disguise, that they’re able to cause a smoke screen or even worse, make others feel sorry for them and their plight... 2016 has to be a year of ‘MINDFULNESS’. And today that’s what I want to raise awareness to. The only difference for me is that I consider myself to be a story-teller, and usually in my stories there’s a lot a fact with a little fiction. Unfortunately when I was a child the fiction was the remedy, the answer, and even the solution. I use to make stories up and believe that real live angels would come and help us, and to be fair one day they did. Apart from a short period I never looked back... I consider myself to be one of the lucky children. I was rescued. 

Here is a small scene from something I’m currently working on. It’s about a father who has a lot of problems. He’s a rather sad figure but guilty of being an alcoholic and more often than not he’s the perpetrator in domestic violence. Because of his own upbringing, he also has horrendous mental health issues that are not being addressed. His anger is always aroused when he’s intoxicated however, the first time he goes to beat his baby daughter he discovers she has a gift, and that gift is responsible for her being able to calm any given situation... in this scene, he’s experiencing it for the first time. She magically stops the situation from escalating and even though he’s confused, he realises that actually, it is she whose in control.

Insanity sweeps though him as his psychiatric disorder takes over, he lifts a clenched fist, white knuckles bulging and the rage floods through him... for a micro second, a sane part of his brain realises the motion of slowness around him is not normal and it catches his breath. He shakes his head; this is not how it has gone before... what the hell is different?

Visibly he flinches, he looks at the baby and as he circles her tiny form, her eyes penetrate deep into the very essence of his being... Time slows down as anger stabs hard at him. He raises his fist higher, the intention ravaging him. He’s mad but has to let it go... His fist is six tiny inches away from her beautiful face, those big, soft, blue eyes flood with liquid, long lashes flick nervously. He is hit by her overwhelming innocence. Slowly he pulls his hand away, and as he gently picks her up; he pulls her in close and whispers how sorry he is.

Her job is done... For now! 

As a child growing in an uncertain world she knows things...  she knows stuff that she doesn’t understand, She knows how to send energy to those who need it, and she knows how to keep herself safe because others are incapable. She is a child yet she knows that she is wise beyond her years. She can’t understand it all... she knows so much. She is aware of information that's inexplicable in terms of how she would know these things at such a young age. She also knows that death is not the end, and for reasons unknown, she also knows it’s simply a transition. She does know one other thing though... she knows and appreciates that knowledge gives power, a power she's always been aware of and thankfully, that power will forever remain.

Jane Ewen