The Visitant...

 

Image from Pinterest

(A RE-Edit of a previous story) 

Its Saturday afternoon and I'm having a moment away from my WIP... I'm creating and re-editing a previous story... This week the word count on my WIP is healthy but I've had to write a scene that's taken me almost a week, because I didn't want to kill anyone off... but, it was necessary to the story. Writer-Journal...  

 

“I’m a real being, brought into this world by mistake.

Let me share a few secrets from a journey which smoldered, within two tortured souls… There was no once upon a time, no fairy-tale to look forward to. In reality, I didn’t have a home. The truth is that there was no belonging, no loyalty, no family support, just down and out substance abuse, and poverty.  

 A young couple, beaten by life, miserable, and seeking refuge, thought it would be a good idea to travel to Ireland, looking for support with their new baby girl. In a moment of madness, they use the last of their money to buy tickets to return to his much-loved Emerald Isle.

Hidden from sight, their tiny bundle is screwed up in a dirty blanket, and semi protected from the cold wind from the Irish sea. They make their way on an uncertain journey, towards their goal. Smoke billows above the young couple’s head as they share one cigarette after another, and when they start sharing alcohol too, their already confused minds decide that this is the perfect thing, and the only thing they can do.

The new father shoves his new-born infant further into his over sized, waterproof coat; he doesn’t want to lose his cargo, not when he’s made the right decision to protect his family. With a faraway look on his drunken face, mystically, he hears the panpipes of Celtic music, and remembers home.  Home is where they should be. His mother was a hard soul, but she would accept them, she had to.

Though the journey is long and arduous, it is nothing compared to the hysterical screams of abuse, which follow as he, his new wife, and tiny baby, are chased from his childhood home.

Wind and rain thrash madly about them, and equally matches the mood of his mother.

Breathing heavy, holding her hip, she chases them.

“You are not bloody welcome; things are hard enough here without another three mouths to feed” She screams.

In that heart-stopping moment, if you’d have held your breath and listened, you would have heard the distinct sound of fear in her voice. Tears, mixed with rain that day, exhausted and defeated, he suddenly remembered why he’d left home.

By the time they arrive back in England, the impact of the whole horrendous journey on their new-born baby, has taken its toll, and in a flash of inspiration, the father takes his sick infant to a convent. The nuns waste no time, the child is whisked away, and admitted to the children’s hospital. Unfortunately, she’s diagnosed with a list of difficulties, the most apparent one being, she is struggling to breathe... It takes eight months for her to recover, and in-between that time the couple still fail to find a home; they decide on another move... But first they have to wait for the baby to be released from her magic bubble, the only home she’s ever known. Shaking his box of matches through the glass, is the only way the young father gets his little girl to smile.

The second home, is a single room in a run-down Victorian house. Invasive damp, black mould, peeling wall-paper, cold, unsavory individuals, and their ever-increasing alcohol fueled violence. Then her brother is born, which put’s further stress on the young couple. Minutes turn into hours, and hours turn into days, all of which see a definite longing in the little girl to return to her magic bubble, it had been safe, quiet, and warm with smiley faces.

Her heart is sad... her brother cries a lot and causes friction between the couple. The mother doesn’t cope and the father is never there. The couple struggle, and always find something to fight about. Another baby sister is born and dies. The damp, cold, smelly room is depressing, and sad. This is their life, her life... so why didn’t they see that all she wants is a warm, safe place, with a soft clean bed, and parents who understand the basic requirements of how to love, provide, and protect. 

The story doesn’t finish there... because despite her young years she is often found sitting in the soulless Victorian room, which inevitably becomes someone else’s version of home. She knows, as if from a magical sense of a long-held memory, that this isn’t so. And then, God help them, another beautiful baby sister is born, and dies.

By the time she is seven years old, with many moves to different addresses, and the powers that be, take an interest, there’s a change, a big shift.

You would have expected the biggest damage to have been done to this little girl, because what she saw wasn’t right, but it didn’t, she grew and unbelievably developed, and somehow, she instinctually knew the right way. She had visualised her own coping mechanisms to the madness, and chaos around her, and she believes that’s what saved her, as well as the unknown entity that was always present, especially in times of great stress.  

Needles to say this couple didn’t hold on to their children, like so many they were taken away. And the little girl, earned the label, the little mother, the resilient one. Labels stay with you, and rightly or wrongly influence the rest of your life. The one thing I’m happy about, is that eventually I was saved. I experienced that warm bed, and having my basic needs met. The one thing I will always miss, is the love of a mother. But let me say, I have experienced being a good mother, having the love of a beautiful daughter, and gorgeous grandchildren.

Whatever you’ve been through… Don’t let it make you hard, bitter, and cynical. Thank God, when we grow up, we get to make our own lives. So be you, and don’t allow another to influence who or what you are, unless of course they are good people. 

Have a great weekend!  

 Jane

 

 

 

A Difficult Scene...

 Another day to get my senses into Chapter 4... of  my current WIP, The Alma Essie Story. 

Two generations come together, and a third is conceived. A chapter about two women and the event that makes them realise they are connected in so many ways. They have to learn to see through there own pain and remember who they are, why they're here, and the many reasons they love one another. 

Scenes can be difficult, especially when something bad happens. But without certain events, the story would not progress, or come together. 

With this particular scene, which I confess has been challenging, I hope I've written it with a sensitivity that does the characters and a repulsive event, justice, because this happens all over the world, and maims its victims, and the families of those involved. 

Regardless of the Word-Count, Its a beautiful day... Enjoy 

#AmWriting  

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

My Dream...

Our dream’s, dramas, life, learning, and living, are all essential to who, what, and where we are.

I had a special day yesterday, it was my birthday. I’m not sure if it’s because I was captivated by the day, and those around me but as the day progressed, It became much clearer about who, where, and why, I was doing the things I’d been trying to accomplish over the past few years.

Definitely a day for reflection.

I guess I realised that at last I’m in a space which has taken a long time to get to, and because of where I am, I realise, and super appreciate how lucky I am to be here. I feel crystal about where I want to go, and what I want to do. I know from speaking with others that in itself is a real gift.

Family life is fabulous, and my working life is content... the thing I’m really working hard on, is my beloved writing. I realise there has to be a certain amount of talent to accomplish the dream. I’m beginning to wonder if all the passion I feel for the profession will help, and subsequently contribute to a successful end...

Only time will tell.

My dream to be a writer incorporates many things... Looking back I had a really poor childhood, so I know the need to be heard is extremely important, a wish to share heartfelt messages so that others will know they’re not alone. The hope that one day I will write stories in a way that others will actually feel as if they are physically there, and not only will they hear the story, but they’ll feel it, and sense each characters heartbeat. Even though I want this and more, I’m aware that in developing that unique world of the imagination, I especially want to remain reclusive, be a mysterious writer who is intent on making big changes for the better. As I reach out to beings from all walks of life with a dream to help make life better, I think only then will I feel that yes, I’ve made it...   

Sometimes it takes just one word to switch on a light bulb for another... And the phenomenal thing is that change can be extraordinary.

© Jane Ewen July 2015 

 

Dreams & Drama...

I have a sleep condition which unfortunately, seems to prevent me from dreaming. Despite this, but prior to being diagnosed I always use to dream, I loved my dreams. I have to share that I’ve never dreamt about my father... I’d like to say he was the best dad in the world... but he wasn’t. I know if he was here now he’d tell you the same. I don’t understand why but for the past two weeks I’ve had several vivid dreams, and in each one he has told me something special...

The road is long... through the haze of a dazzling mid-day sun; I watch speckles of dust as they dance high into the air... Looking around there are no signs of life, except for a single dwelling with a separate garage on my left, and a single double fronted shop on my right.

My focus is the shop.

Without taking my eyes off the shops door, I notice I’m breathless; I became aware of a dog running. There’s tightness in my chest as I flick frightened eyes to the left... oh my God, no, no, no... A Rottweiler is running after me. In sheer panic I wrap my arms around myself. It zips through my mind like a gramophone player, don't you run, don't you run, Nooooooo... don't you dare run... Oh god it’s on me.  It rises up, wraps huge front paws around me and as if in slow motion it walks in a grotesque fashion, alongside. I don't falter, I don't stop but I'm choking, my eyes stream. Terrified, I’m petrified of dogs.   

Growls, snarls, the glint from polished teeth snap, snap snapping.

I’m going to die, so with one last effort I push open the shop door... My eyes meet his... I open my mouth; I struggle, and in barely a whisper

"Dad... dad, Dog"

He knows I’m frightened, his hand reaches across the counter, and he grasps a handful of sweets, colourful, sugary temptations.

Defiantly he steps towards me and in a booming, Irish voice he commands the dog to sit. It falls away from me exposing angry red welts across my body.

It sits.  

His gaze steady on the dog as he offered more sweets.  

Standing at his side I continue to shake from head to toe. I become completely overwhelmed by my dad’s presence and the most incredible feeling of love, warmth, and safety permeates me. Grateful, I watch as he continues to feed the dog, he tells me not to worry, he says he’s been poorly for the longest time, and that I need to listen to more music, he says on the other side he’s a teacher, and as if by some form of magical enchantment, a magnificent white, grey horse appears, and when dad turns his attention to give it a sweet, for me it’s all too much.

In my roller-coaster of deep, dark emotion, I finally break down and let it all out.

Opening confused, sleep filled eyes... I realise I've been in a land of the unknown, and that I’d met and communicated with my deceased father...

Once I'd calmed ,and in soulful reflection realised there was evidence that my story is set to continue. I felt fortunate to have acquired essential knowledge that this journey is far from over; holding that confirmation fills me with ease.

As I dress and plan for the day ahead, in my mind's eye I see the old Irish rogue who very rarely smiled but oh when he did my world lit right up...

~Jane Ewen~

Knowing...

'Sad Child' Image from www.pxleyes.com

I know... I don’t know how, but I KNOW... have you ever felt the presence of knowledge, yet you couldn’t explain how, why, or when you became aware of the information... It isn’t knowledge of a prediction, and it isn’t looking into a crystal ball at the future and feeling certain about someone’s life... it’s a knowing which magically hits you. The knowing can happen when a person is talking, listening or simply stood in your company... or at an event and suddenly you feel overwhelmed with information, feelings, opinions, beliefs and views. You could be writing, watching TV, making plans...  The information can be so extraordinarily strong, that you know without doubt how another is feeling, what they need to do, and nine times out of ten you’re able to execute a plan without hurting the feelings of any sensitive soul... Back in the day my knowing was scary... but not anymore, I know what I have to do. I truly believe this came from a whole childhood of feeling inferior, and uncertain.

There is a beauty to uncertainty and I’d like to share with you what it means for me... When you’re stuck in that moment, that frozen, dying, period when you feel your losing it... stop... wait and feel the tick of time as it allows you to hold on to permission to do something about your moment of truth... You do not have to rush for anyone, time was made for all of us to relax in whilst we made good decisions, and if you made a bad one, that’s ok to because mistakes are made to learn from...

Lifting a clenched fist, rage overwhelms the whole of his being. He stumbles...

A weird motion of uneasy slowness all around catches in his throat, he realises this isn’t normal, this is not what normally happens, and this is definitely not how it had gone before... what the hell was different?

The stupidest gaze lands on the baby, she turns and looks deep into his soul... He flinches, anger stabs at him hard, and he raises his fist higher. Anger at boiling point, he needs to vent, to let go... Baby blue eyes flood with liquid, and her warmth strikes him. Reluctantly he lowers his hand, and picks her up; insistently he lifts her high into the air. Her job is done...

As a child growing up in an uncertain world she knew things...  she knew stuff she didn’t understand, she knew death was not the end, and for reasons unknown she also knew it was simply a transition. She knew she was wise beyond her years, she knew a great deal of information, information that was inexplicable in terms of how she could have known such things at her young age. Knowledge gave her power, a power she had always been aware of, but thankfully way back then she’d always felt the all consuming power would remain with her always. The important thing through all of this is that the knowing is, and would always be the truth. How she knew this she couldn’t say... she just knew. The strange thing is it wasn’t just a clear knowing; there were other things, things she would only be able to share as her journey unfolded... There’s no rush, no need to worry, only a delightful sense of peace, and calm.

 

© Jane Ewen

Peace...

Image used from Pinterest quoting Jimi Hendrix.

I read this on my travels today...

One finds peace in their life when they first find peace in their heart.
~ Sue Krebs~
From Soul-Speaking
https://www.facebook.com/Jane.Ewen?ref=hl#!/SoulSpeaking?fref=ts 

Peace has always meant a great deal to me, and given I have walked a journey where at intervals I have known such unpredictable disturbances, and lived through catastrophic changes; it is not surprising I understand the importance of such a beautiful gift. Seeing the above quote caused a whole array of thoughts, and feelings to spill...

There is something in understanding that when you feel no peace there is always, sadly, a catastrophic reason... I don’t mind sharing I was once in a place where I felt no peace at-all. Its one thing to be restless and wonder what the hell’s it all about, but for it to be taken, broken, and thrown to the four winds, making you question everything you thought you knew, now there’s something that could and virtually can destroy you. Occasionally it’s realistic to be acquainted with the perplexing knowledge, that maybe one or two things might knock you off guard, but when the big one comes, and literally floors you... you know without doubt, you’re in trouble.

I don’t mean to ramble, because my intention here is to bring a specific point in a concise piece, you may be on your knees, and the problem might still be in your life, but surprisingly it’s possible to come to terms with its devastation, because the strange thing about life is that mostly it has an out of the ordinary way of turning around, and unexpectedly, it can present you with questions, and answers that actually you hadn’t thought of.

I can only report I am victim, and a witness to this testimony, that no matter how dreadful it gets there is usually a way forward, and I suppose that depends on you, your strength, your support, the resolve, and commitment to stay upright and focused on those around you, including yourself... Give yourself time; make a plan, and never mind taking one day at a time, sometimes it has to be an hour, a moment or even a minute. It can be done, but take the pressure of yourself and those around you by keeping your expectation to a minimum. Remember stuff happens but life goes on.

Good Luck my friend.

 If one breathes in hope, and then breathes out peace, a ripple will crisscross the world.

~JaneEwen~

The Visitant...

Image used from www.gofundme.com

 



I am a real being brought into this world by mistake. Along the way I managed to acquire a deep understanding of what a home truly means. I guess it might have helped if there’d been ‘A once upon a time fairytale’ when in reality, I didn’t have a home. The truth, there was no belonging, not anywhere... I repeat with great sadness that we had no place to go. So if you can... come close, let me share a few dark secrets of a journey which once smouldered within a framework of tortured thoughts.

In their terrible dilemma the young couple didn’t know what to do, beat by life, and unrelenting poverty their all consuming thoughts of seeking refuge might be a good idea... In a moment of madness they use the last of their money to buy tickets so that they can return to his beloved Emerald Isle. There was a real need to seek much needed solace.

Hidden from sight, their tiny bundle is screwed up in a dirty blanket, semi-protected from icy cold wind, and freezing spray from the raging Irish Sea. The threesome, make their way on an uncertain journey towards his goal. Smoke billows above the young couple as they share one cigarette after another, and when they share alcohol too, their already confused minds decide this is the perfect thing, the only thing they can do. The new father stuffs his newborn infant further into his oversized, waterproof coat; he doesn’t want to lose this cargo, not when he’s made the right decision to protect his family. With a faraway look on his drunken face, mystically he hears panpipes of Celtic music, and remembers home... Home is where they should be. His mother was a hard soul but she would accept them, she had to.

Though the journey is long and arduous, it is nothing compared to the hysterical screams of abuse which follow as he, his new wife, and tiny baby are chased from his childhood home.

Wind and rain thrash madly about them, but equally it matches the mood of his mother.

Breathing heavy, holding her hip she chases them.

 

“You are not welcome; things are hard enough without another three mouths to feed” She screams.

 

If in that heart-stopping moment you’d held on to your breath, and listened hard enough, you would have heard the distinct sound of fractured fear in her voice.

Tears mix with rain that day, exhausted and defeated, they walk wearily back to the harbour. By the time they arrive back in England, the impact of the whole horrendous journey on their newborn baby had taken its toll, and in a flash of inspiration, the father takes his sick infant to a convent. The nuns waste no time at all; the sick child is whisked away, and admitted to the children’s hospital. Unfortunately she’s diagnosed with a list of difficulties, the most apparent one being the fact she is struggling to breathe... It takes eight months for the child to recover, and in-between that time the couple still fail to find a home; they decide on another move... But first they have to wait for the baby to be released from her magic bubble, the only home she’s ever known. Shaking his box of matches through the glass in her bubble is the only way the young father gets his little girl to smile.

The second home is a single room in a run-down Victorian house. Invasive damp, black mould, peeling wall-paper, cold, fighting, unsavoury individuals, and their ever increasing alcohol fuelled violence. Then her brother is born, which put’s further stress on the young couple. Minutes turn into hours, and hours turn into days, all of which see a definite longing in the little girl to return to her magic bubble, it had been safe, quiet, and warm with smiley faces. Her heart feels forever sad...

The couple unhappy; they struggle, and always find something insignificant to fight about. Another baby sister is born and dies. The damp, cold, smelly room is depressing and sad.

The mother cries, and the dad is always missing.

 

This is their life, her life... so why didn’t they see that all she wants is a warm, safe place, with a soft clean bed, and parents who understand the basic requirements of how to love, provide, and protect.  

The story doesn’t finish there... because despite her young years she is often found sitting in the soulless Victorian room, which inevitably becomes someone else’s version of home. She knows, as if from a magical sense of a long-held memory, that this isn’t so. And then, god help them, another beautiful baby sister is born and dies.

By the time she is seven years old, and the powers that be take a keen interest in her family’s life, there is a change, a big shift, and along with four brothers and one sister, at long last she is gratefully removed. Her placement is dreamlike, a wonderful experience. The magic bubble she’d left all those years ago, was about to reappear, and this brought the most amazing sense of belonging. She arrived; she was home, with real people who knew how to take care of children, they knew what was important in the life of a child.

So dear reader, the outcome for this little girl was the overwhelming importance in finally arriving home, and once she was there, she found love, enveloped in warmth, and a true sense of belonging, as well as having peace, and joy in feeling safe, and secure knowing it would all be there every single day... 

Home is many things to many people, but when a being is brought into the world, and has no home, the importance of getting one is paramount; even if that means having to leave your own family to acquire that very basic, fundamental need, which is normally granted to most... then, it simply has to be.

~Jane Ewen~

 

I Believed...

(A Thousand Years - Christina Perri Lyrics)

 I Believed... By Jane Ewen.

I always believed you would find me... It was written in
ancient, timeless scriptures which foretold that I would love you.

 

Instinctively I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this treasure, this dream, if I didn’t believe.
I understood a deep, knowing... that I'd unconditionally give you all that I am, and the best thing was I saw as clear as any day, that I would be everything to you. That never-ending
invisible list which was built from years of being with beautiful people who
despite their best intentions were not YOU... I wondered aimlessly through life,
and l lived countless experiences, all of which would miraculously bring me to
a moment in time, a moment that would last forever... I wanted you; I implored the
universe for you to catch me, because I knew you’d be the one who would safely
hold my heart. I knew with inexplicably certainty, that you’d be the one who
would see through my walls.  

The beat of our music is magnificent.

I use to struggle to find a reason why I should be loved, but
just by being close you answered many questions, you ticked boxes. My
invisible, constrained list magically began to fade. Truth enveloped me, it
spoke to my soul, ice melted as it spelt words, and I cried, buried my face in
the warmth of you as I hugged your spirit. You whispered simple words of beauty, and managed to convey to me, with an honesty I’d only ever dreamed of, that you were here, you were really
here – at long last LOVE had found me. Oh my word, my lord, the absolute acceptance,
the beautiful, overwhelming feeling for the first time of being able to be ME. Someone
loved me, for who I am, no more pretending... This was so healing, and as all of
the hard years melted away, so forgiveness kicked in...   

Throughout my  life which was often hard, there had been a few happenings,
some good, some bad, as well as a few questions, with a few doubts, but in the
end, once I was secure it all managed to show me that if you believed hard
enough, truth will happen, and a special love would be born... This love will
not only touch you, but it will embrace all of those around you.   

For me the only unfortunate, negative to this much beauty, is
sadly not everyone finds this loveliness ... It’s possible though, it’s out
there, but for me, I believe fate has a huge part to play in this
game of life.  I suppose for now all I can
say is I am fortunate, and lucky in that I believed. Along the way I shared my beliefs with a chosen
few, some laughed, and others advised me to be realistic, but I knew in my
heart there was someone, I had seen a faceless version of him in my dreams, and I told myself I would know when I saw him...
and I did!

My darlings you have your own song, you know how you feel, believe...
take it forward, be what you wish to attract. Be honest, don’t hurt anyone, and
show kindness at all times. Just as I knew there was someone special looking
for me, I also know with that same unshakable, conviction, if we as human beings do all of
the above, the world will become a beautiful place, and all kinds of
beings will live a most wonderful life, especially a life without fear... I speak from experience when
I share; there is nothing worse than fear... I cry every time the news shows that
someone has died, someone is killed, murdered, or even lost and hurt. I don’t
know why, but my heart and soul feels indescribable pain, as if that individual
were my mother, my father, my sister, brother, or daughter etc. I know there
are beautiful people out there, beings who struggle with articulating these same
thoughts, and feelings, I know them to be as as loving as anyone else, and yet they find
being demonstrative, or open a huge challenge. If you struggle to feel
such depth in emotion, to the point it holds you back from being who
you truly are, then all I can disclose is that I was where you are now... I dealt
with it by taking time out to study myself, and rediscover who I was. It was a
tough, but beautiful journey; however it was also uplifting, and enlightening.  I’d never really liked who I was, In the end
though, I learned to like me and soon realised that actually, I wasn’t all that bad. With
it came an understanding of others, as well as myself. I started smiling more at people,
because I wanted to, and not because I had to. I came to
understand how precious a smile is, and the amazing impact it can have on
others.

If you’re reading this, and you don’t have any LOVE in your
life, I want you to know it’s not far away. Be positive, be ready to receive kindness,
and be ready to reciprocate that kindness, because that’s how it returns. Life
is wonderful, and that goes even if your life is currently in the toilet... it’s
a moment in time, and there’s always an end to experiences, which is just as
well given some of the moments some people live.

If your still here...

I would like to take this gorgeous opportunity
to thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to visit my blog,
and read this post. Please come again and know: you will always get a response if you engage.  

I will be back soon.
Meanwhile alllow me to send amazing love,
and peace....  

My Dear Little Janie-kins...

Beautiful Image used with the permission of Clare Colette Smith.

Imagine if we were pre-programmed and able to write a letter to our much younger self... Mine would go something like this...  Please bear in mind the way I’ve written it, is given that I already know so much about what’s played out in this life... However I would want to direct most of my wisdom, sensitivity and love to the small, defenceless, lovable child...

Dearest darling Jane ...

you are such a wonderful little girl. It’s terribly important you recognise that in life some of the adults around you are unfortunately damaged... Sadly my darling girl, they don’t know how to treat a beautiful soul and they definitely don’t have any people skills... It's such a crying shame, that at the beginning of your life you're going to be surrounded by individuals who struggle to interact and neither do they know how to communicate. It will be because of them that you and your siblings will unfortunately suffer... Now I know all of that must sound a little scary, but I more than anyone  appreciate that you knowing all this extra information, will help you to be less anxious when all the bad things happen. You need to understand it’s NOT your fault and remember that these unfortunate individuals, sadly lack in even the basic principles of parenting. They don't know how to be child friendly and most of the time they will be totally inappropriate... exposing you to so much stuff, things that no child should see... But take note Janie, its imperative you read every single word, understand every sentence and share it with your siblings. I write in the hope that it spares all of you the incredible hurt and loneliness that will isolate you, causing untold distress. The suffering that you’ll feel when you’re finally abandoned will not last. I want you to close your eyes tight and remember, in the end they will have done you a great big favour. When it does happen, it will be the making of you. You my darling will blossom and flourish beyond your wildest dreams.  

I hope you’ll be able to use this message, and develop a beautiful, shiny shell that will completely protect you when the going gets tough... Keep remembering how wonderful, caring, loving and extraordinary you are. Hold all of that very close and when you’re being beaten and abused, remember my lovely, close those beautiful eyes, go to your special place and know that the person responsible is sick. It’s not your fault...  The good thing is you’ll come through it all and vecause of who you are, you'll will be alright.

One day gorgeous girl the world will be brighter and you will be the princess that no one told you about. You'll live in a nice home, own clean clothes and take a bubble bath. But my darling, your unfortunate early life will always be led by ‘strangers’ however some of those strangers will be rather special and from each one of them, you will get an essence of the beauty in their characters... now listen Jane, that doesn’t happen for everyone. No, when you're a big girl, the special bits you’ll get, will help make you who you are and the big thing here darling, is the bits you do get, are very special because you get to choose. Keep in mind though Janie, even nasty people have an element of niceness hiding within their character... You don’t know it yet but sweetheart, you’re going to be so lucky because you’ll get to choose all of those best bits for yourself. 

I’m going to leave you with my love and the one thing I’d like to do more than anything my lovely little munchkin, is gather you up, look deep into your eyes, connect and then hug you like you’ve never been hugged before... just to show you there is a world full of love waiting and one day you will hold it all... now don’t forget... you’re a beautiful girl and wonderful things are going to happen! One more thing, I will always be close and even when you don’t see me, you will super sense me and you'll never feel alone.  

I love you little lady.

Especially yours,

Jane xxxx

 

Curiosity, Life & Dreams...

Whether you wish to silently watch, vocally interact or seek out unanswered questions, the act of seeking to quench ones inquisitive thinking is usually linked to a thirst for knowledge of what might, could, would or should have been... Or even a deep desire to learn or know about things that don’t really concern us anymore... I guess there is always the chance that Curiosity may also bring unforeseen, unwanted information.  But isn’t that what Curiosity is all about? ... So if you look, peek and wonder... be ready for the unknown, and remember you might not always like what you see, hear or find out...  From my own sensitivity I know without doubt, that the people who have been in my life were meant to be, and I’ve always understood how sad it can be to think that some of them are unable to stay, but again that’s how it’s meant to be... When a gorgeous soul steps into our lives, they are there for a reason, a moment or a season... some choose to stay, some need to go, but hey that’s ok...  

I think many of us might be guilty of occasionally feeling the itch of curiosity. Then there’s the old proverb ‘Curiosity killed the Cat’ which warns of the dangers of needless investigating, inspecting or experimenting ... My guess is that a good old dose of this electric emotion can be positively healthy, and might even enable us to place answers to unanswered questions, that may occasionally rise to the surface... This inquisitive form of thinking allows individuals to investigate and learn what might have been, or more importantly, why it wasn’t. I think in the past most of my own intermittent curiosities are super connected to what might have been, and if choices or the way my life’s path progressed, voluntary or involuntary were for the best.

I am glad to say that to date and with everything I currently know, my choices have been correct and if in the past I didn’t have a choice at the way something materialised, thankfully it was still for the best. I believe I am where I should be... My life, the people in it and the people I have yet to meet are just where I want them. I also believe I am definitely the luckiest of ladies, because the majority of my life’s experiences have been beneficial in teaching me all I know about life and love... I am open to new ideas and I believe I am realistic in my dreams... despite several of life’s knock-backs; I have much to look forward to. In my most reflective moments of the day, I quite often wish those around me, as well as absent friends the very, very best of everything.  I was only thinking the other day, the best part about getting older is the warmth that penetrates your spirit when you smile because a friend is happy, or you hear good news.

I especially love writing... I don’t profess I’ll ever be a literary legend; I don’t even proclaim to write correctly. I would make a guess that other accomplished writers will see plenty of mistakes, but I do passionately declare that at all times I am professional, I am especially careful with what I say and share. I also try to think of others, and I consistently emanate respect... I don’t believe I have even touched the tip of the iceberg with my thoughts and ideas, although right now I’d say, it’s unfortunate that I am too busy to be able to concentrate on my absolute dream.  However I believe that very soon I’ll be in more of a position to focus fully on where I hope my voice will take me... 

We are fortunate, and I am always in awe of the sights, sounds and human connections that are often made. I love to see beautiful pictures from other countries and I repeatedly recognise how lucky I am to be able to see those things... I never forget what the internet; the news has opened up for us all... absolutely amazingly inspirational.

So friend, if you’re still here reading this article with me... then please let me thank you as well as remind you to never lose your sense of Curiosity, it could possibly be the one thing that brings answers and love into your life. 

Angel Jane  

“Life is wonderful when you're the one to write it.”
― Coco J. Ginger

Where Dreams May Roam...

I long earnestly to hug the small child who lives within... From an early age I have always had a sense of her complete and utter sadness... In the beginning, I didn’t realise that this little girl would stay with me forever, and it wasn’t until I grew to be of a certain age that I witnessed her smile for the very first time... With her cheeky cherubic smile my world lit-up like a Christmas tree, and from that memorable day onwards, I knew everything was going to be alright... I'd like to dedicate this post to all who have known that their inner child is with them, and has always been a very special part of  their lives...  

I have often wondered... where did she come from? How did she get here and how long was she going to stay... I sense so much about my little dweller, and strangely enough the times she made herself visible to me, was when I was at my saddest.

I recall the very first time I met her; I was recovering from watching something so disturbing that I’d decided to hide behind furniture. I sat shivering and shaking, holding my hands before my eyes, not able to make any meaning out of what I’d just seen... when suddenly I felt her presence. Jumping nervously, I expected to see my big, bad, mean mother... she would always bend on all fours, just like a wild animal, and try to get me out from behind our big, old musty sofa. But no, this time mother wasn’t there.  Instead the blue eyed child, with big, sad teary eyes stared at me in silence.   

“What?” I whispered from behind ice, cold hands.

The little girl did not answer, she just continued to stare.

Then all of a sudden the door banged really loudly, and the big, bad mother screamed,

“I will get you Lady Jane, and believe you me; you’ll regret the day that you were born”

My skin started to tingle, my heart raced even harder, because unfortunately I knew what was going to happen next... she was going to find me, grab hold of whatever she could hang on to, shake me till my teeth rattled in my head, and then she would violently drag me screaming towards the cellar door...  

This time though she didn’t bend down on all fours, instead with super human strength, she yanked the big old sofa away from me... her red, sweaty face contorted now with rage, looked at me with a hatred I never could quite understand, and as her long dark brown hair flew through the air, she viciously grabbed me... In slow motion I witnessed my own hand reach out towards my little friend and as she grabbed it, I felt that her little hand was also freezing cold... but holding onto her, I felt the most incredible relief because I didn’t feel so alone.

Whilst the big, bad mother shook, pushed, screeched and swore my little friend never once let go. Not even when the cellar door crashed open, and we were pushed down rickety, wooden steps, to land in a crying heap on to cold grey paving slabs. The greyish light from a tiny broken window, shed just enough brightness for me to see my small friend scuttle closer to me, and then we both heard the slam of the door.  

This was the start of a forever friendship... My friend never gave a smile, she never spoke a word, but I knew without a shadowing doubt, that the connection to her and I was something that would unquestionably last forever.

In those formative years the cruelty continued and our connection remained.

When I was tiny I didn’t realise how special the connection was, not until that is, I got a little older and I started to question her existence.

The sad, blue eyed child always appeared when I was stressed, tired or frightened. I never questioned her appearance, I was always so glad to see her.  The cruelty, the hatred and our chaotic world of loneliness, was easier to bear with her around. However as time passed, I did realise that despite myself getting older, she never changed... it was as if she was stuck in a kind of time-warp of emotional damage, where she’d decided not to develop but more to simply exist.

I did know one thing though, and that was I grew to love her like no other. The things we lived through were witnessed between us, and the eye contact we often held said more than words ever could.

I guess the day I saw her smile was a tremendous breakthrough for me, because that was the day I knew beyond everything, that it was all going to be ok. All I was left with was the immeasurable thought that I needed to hold her, to bestow upon her as much love as I could, because this little girl had held it all in, contained and packaged all the untold hurt, just so that I got to share the burden. This ultimately made sure I survived the horror filled, neglectful, damaged, hurtful upbringing any child should ever have to endure... And even though my little friend is still around, I have yet to give her a hug, then again, an absolute fear is that she’ll go away, and to be honest, I never want her to leave because she is such a big part of me as I am of her.  

The very important thing about living with inner children, is that when you heal, they heal...

© 2013 Jane Ewen

Picture shared from Google: Artist Unknown...

Dreams, Wishes & Feelings...

Right now my friend all I know is that I’ve been fortunate enough to grow in an ever-changing world, and no matter what, I will never... not ever, let go of my dreams...

DREAMS... I have a few, all involve my beautiful family.

WISHES... are for my voice to be eventually heard, as well as all the emotion contained within each word and setting. And if it doesn’t sound conceited, I am hopeful it will allow others to experience it to the full.   

FEELINGS... that they persist in being continuous and they are never far away from a single thought.

I am always surprised where the journey takes me...

Stepping out of one’s comfort zone in terms of what one writes is mind blowing to say the least... Very often I find myself talking about facts, the past, present and future. I discuss how I feel, what I perceive others may believe.  It always feels extremely important for me to share a lot of deep, often confusing experiences that usually becomes clearer as I go on to discuss further within my own world of words... I always disclose my writing to be therapeutic, and holding hand on heart, I continue to confirm that for me, this is so... I always find myself to be comfortingly realistic, with incessant remarks about my lack of education; I very often wonder where I might have been today, had my parents been different or if my upbringing had been a little closer to normal... Other times I feel a little melancholy, especially when I think I might have been a bit more receptive to possible opportunities... Who knows, had my life taken a different path I might even have been an accomplished author... Writing words and thoughts full to bursting, impregnated with my own unique expressions, and novels to delight all the people I want to spiritually and blissfully touch.  

Every day I feel the need to progress with my writing, I very often write and don’t share... I have two novels on the go and with any possible luxury of spare time; these will get worked on...  Just as much as words are terribly important, so are people... family, friends & strangers.  I feel I have an affinity with all of human kind... I will profess to liking animals, but not as much as humans. I am able to stand next to a complete stranger, and feel an amazing amount of information, and on occasion if they turn to me, we can become engulfed in conversation and it naturally feels like we have know each other for years.   I quite often find myself feeling another’s pain, happiness, disappointment and I have to make sure that I tell myself in no uncertain terms, that those experiences are happening to another and not to me... I have discovered that feeling someone else’s emotions at such an incredible intensity, may mean I have the qualities of an Empath, and I guess this is why it’s taken me, heaven knows how many years to be able to distance myself to such an extent, so that when I receive another’s energy, it doesn’t make me unwell.

I don’t proclaim to know it all, I believe I’ve learned a lot but I also believe I have a heck of a lot to learn... This is why I consider myself to be blessed, and it’s also why I live in hope that the PLOT will thicken...

~AngelJane~