Getting sick of this

......tried to use something called blogsy, to help me post my blogs. As the normal method was not obliging. Curses....all its done is wipe out the four completed blogs that would not post. Well thank you very much, I don't think! Just what I didn't want.

Positive...positive...positve my blog works perfectly

Testing, testing

      I'm am having troubles. The blog will no longer post. I now have four in a line....sitting doing nothing.

 It says error 400 I have no idea what that is, or how to find out....anyone out there know?

Ok maybe it's the photos I enclose, so here goes nothing....

Testing, testing

The alikeillylooks one went off with no pics.

Energy...positively...the eb and flow

            I guess my energy levels have done a nose dive....is it what's happening around me, so much on the verge of happening, of changing. But not actually happening. I feel as if I have been on a carrousel going around in circles, getting nowhere fast. There are times I don't know which side is up, in which direction to look, or hope for answers. Although I know things have changed, will change more. Is it I am impatient for what I think will be better situations for me. Is it just the non stop rain and the incessant headache hovering around my temples. Is it being damp, the clothes in the bedroom, the bed itself slowly sinking into mould through the incessant damp. Sometimes with all all this rain and things never getting properly dry, I feel as I too am going mouldy. Is it the extremely sad little tale of a teenage suicide pact I only just finished. Or, is it the fact my own book seems to be on the precipice of taking off, or dying a stagnant death. Really when trying to self analyse, the possibilities are endless. Might they also be useless? Everything feels useless tonight!

             Is it that I have relied too much on other people rather than making my own decisions just recently. I feel that I am being dicked about and am angry at myself for giving such power of my happiness or sadness to someone else. Ms positive...not so positive right now. This afternoon, everything was a box of birds, now I'm wallowing in...what? Confusions and frustrations. I have lost direction and am stir crazy at being confined too long in the house, alone. That's certainly quite enough for a start. Too much concern for others only ends in tears for yourself as you sit alone, waiting for something that's not going to happen. Mainly becasue no one was considering you and what your needs were. Ha ha, too busy out there doing what they want! Why wasn't I?

         We all have these ups and downs. Why just yesterday I was counting my blessings and itemising the stack of wonderful things in my life. Which are legion,..no exaggeration. It's all about attitude isn't it. Nothing dramatic has changed, no disaster struck. Which is why you have to keep building up your positive attitude, your independence. Your inner strength in effect, your core of cofidence. I have no explanation, no coherent reason for losing my balance, my confidence and with it my equilibrium......my well being. For inexplicably waiting for something from people around me who are perhaps incapable of it. Perhaps I am more Ms gullible, rather than Ms positive. No doubt I expect more than most people can give...that would be it, wouldn't it? Expectations....some clever person said to me once, 'expect nothing, then you won't be dissapointed.'

          I was going to say I wish I could live like that, with that attitude. But I don't wish that, I would hate it. I need hope, I need dreams....I think we all need dreams. What a dull life it would be without hope, without magic  Why else were we given imagination? Without which asset we would have achieved nothing, no changes from being cavemen....and before. I like having expectations, excitement, some fantasy, I like to look towards the night sky and wondering. I prefer to look forward to the day, to have possibilities! Expecting some excitement and pleasant opportunities to be mine for the taking. 

           Ok, it means every now and again, you may run out of hope and enthusiasm, just temporarily. Just as I have done this evening. I have enjoyed some wonderful high points in my day but it's not those that weighted down the scales. By evening I felt its been a frustrating day, with many little disappointments. Too much rain, too much time alone. Some time alone is vital for me, too much, with no sun and constant wet and damp is not so good. The solution is a couple of hours pumping music and at least that much time writing it out of my system. Hence this particular blog. It's bound to strike a chord with someone out there.

          So much has been going well and promising better for me, that it seems important to point out a dangerous pitfall. For those of us living with positive expections.Those of us who are working at creating our own reality, instead of accepting anything that happens to reach you as you float by on the tide of life. We work daily on creating those situations we want in our lives. We are positive in every aspect. The circumstance, the health, the wealth, the people, the changes. There are no limits to what you are able to create, to achieve if you believe in the power of your thoughts and your words. You work consistently and tirelessly on your expectations. Then like tonight, you hit a down curve, when you cannot seem to believe. When nothing makes sense any more.  When all of your old, long held fears, rise to the surface to boobytrap you! It is the final mile, the eleventh hour! But this is the very time you can lose it all. Return to the old ways of fate and bad luck.

          That's is why it was imperative I pulled myself out of the morass of my droopy, black, defeatist attitude. Important I  got myself back into a position where I could feel that positivity welling up. To where I can begin going over every dream, plan and expectation for me and my life. Build back up that which eroded tonight. It's a little like a diet, it takes you ages to take off vital pounds, then a session of weakness and you have piled back all the pounds you strove so hard to shift. That's not going to happen to my dreams, my positive aims. No way! I'm reinforcing all the good stuff, starting right now. All the plans I worked so diligently at creating are not being lost at the eleventh hour. Tomorrow could bring the fruition of all my aims, it could be the day everything I want is mine!

             Ok my friends, watch this space, because I'm almost there.....I'm not losing focus now.

Plan your aims clearly, picture them, write a list, build a picture book, aim high....there are no limits, except those put in place  by your own lack of imagination and self belief. Dream big, aim high, be positve and never give up! Never......

              

     

Brasil...land of religion

        If I look at Brasil through the eyes of a foreigner, which is what I am here, then it's a country where religion lives, LIVES! Capital letters. It's as if it's difficult for me to get through a week without being drawn into some sort of religious practice or involvement. The fact of me having family here, as well as being more than a 'tourist' is the reason for that. Of course I could refuse to be drawn into anything, but I find it interesting. I like the new, I like the different and to me, this is both. Strange as it's also so old, so well established. The Jesuits bringing western religion here in the 1500's. But religion grows in different ways, depending on the country and it's culture. My experience is that Brasil has such passion, which makes for lively services, ardent worship. As they do with much of their life, be it dance, music, emotions, whatever...it's done with passion. Maybe it's the African mix of people here, maybe the native Braisilian freedom in a hot tropical country.

                             Bahia, Brasil....much still carved from the jungle

       Maybe religion is stronger here because in some ways, Brasil is not as modern as Europe. Maybe it's merely more visible. I think we were once the same way with religion taking up a larger part of our lives, being more important. I know from what I read, that in many parts of Europe the hold the church has on the people is considerably weakened. Conversely, I read this week that 8 put of 10 people believe in the/an after life. I thought those were pretty amazing figures. Heartening in a way, perhaps a bit of a stick and a carrot for becoming the best person you possibly can. It's human nature to strive for reward rather than punishment. From what I have had to do with religion here, it seems most believe that a person carries on after death in some way.

         I am not a religious person, but I like to think I am a Sprititual person. I was christened Church Of England, the religion that old Henry the Eighth created. Dating from the time he broke away from the Catholic Church of Rome in the 1600's. But with me coming from a small village in Norfolk, England, the church was quite a serious affair. With strict rules about everything from birth to death. Of course the church was long used as a means of controlling the common man. Along with the feudal system of land ownership and surfs to work for the Lords. People were not educated, they needed the priests to read the bible to them, to tell them the way they were supposed to live. The powerful families did the rest, because everything was to do with power. The ignorance of the people suited the church for many eons. Education not only gives people the freedom to read for themselves but the means to think for themselves as well. Some of that attitude remained for a long time. 

          Quite unusually, our village was a long street rather than a compact square or circle. The one church was all we had, not anywhere near the centre, or perhaps the centre moved over the years. As the church was positioned quite close to the one school, so it could have happened. Both were located quite a way out at the end of a 'strung out' village of the one main road about five or six miles long, not that easy to reach from one end to the other! Although people did walk more then, it was necessary too. Even we children walked nearly two miles each way to school every day. That was before the days when children were ferried everywhere. Here in Brasil, the clock is reversed on that too, people walk more, or bycycle.

          Perhaps it was the fact that I was exposed to two quite different cultures, via my country Mother and my town Father, that made me different. I can see how it would have made me question the 'status quo'. In the village, I was considered neither chalk nor cheese, fish nor fowl, that was me. Or, if you look at it differently, doubly blessed, with a foot in two camps, both quite different. We travelled regularly between Norfolk and London, at a time when people seldom moved many miles from home.  It did mean I was truly neither, certainly many in the village spoke of my Father with suspicion. 'What? that Londoner, that soldier.' Despite the fact that he lived there, with a local girl and their children, for nearly twenty years, counted for little. Suspicion and small mindedness of parochial people was rife towards everyone, especially us. We were unique in the village. Even though I did not understand it at the time, we were ostracised to some extent. My mother marrying a Londoner was viewed askance, as were those girls who became involved with Americans....the common opinion was it was wrong, or bad.

                                             The River Thames, London

       But even so, I noticed the difference between the two families, the two communities, town and country. I was ever the child who said little and saw too much...sometimes looking back, I think I knew nothing on either count. The village, had the one church, a high church. Almost Catholic in its practices, with incense, communion, choirs and all. It was where the better off of the community worshipped. At that time religion was trying to maintain its grip on a people who had gone through two World Wars, begun to see other lives and countries, going into a period of great change. Transport and tv were, as always the great educators. This country church was backed up by both Bethesda and Methodist chapels, although it was strict competition between them. It was known in the village, that the organisers or congregation did not mix, one with the other. Did not support each other verbally, or financially. In fact, I thought them 'daggers drawn' in their attitude towards each other. It was cold distain for the misguided who worshipped n other ways. I puzzled over it then, but now I see no reason to distain anyone's choice of worship. If you ignore the dogma that has built around them over the years, the message of love and care is central to all. Isn't it?

           Both chapels were closer to the centre of the village, so it was where we children were expected to go on a Sunday morning, children's service. Get em young, must be the motto. We had the usual, harvest Festivals, anniversaries, when we were expected to recite something religious, dressed in our Sunday best. In a small village everything you did was under a microscope. The old ladies who knew the entire history of you, your family, including any scandals past or present. They kept a wary eye on we girls, judging our progress through our maturity, or past it. All I wanted to do was escape. The village policemen, stood prominently, keeping a wary eye in any places the boys congregated. Ready to slap a head or two if any got out of line. In those days, there was still respect for adults. It was a simpler way to organise village life. I remember rejecting a lot of the rules before I was sixteen. Already feeling there were other truths, other ways. Of course, I was already a sensitive...seeing and feeling things around me others did not seem to see. It was not acceptable to say so of course. Perhaps that's why brasil speaks to me, they accept so much of what my own culture denied.

                The bareness and wide open spaces of Norfolk and the River Ouse.

           So, here I am in Brasil, many years later. With many things about the set up of the community, striking a chord with me, from that time, that era past. The only difference is the moral climate here, certain girls and their lifestyles are tolerated, integrated, absorbed naturally. In ways they never were in England, or anywhere in the U.K. Extra children are welcomed into families with little fuss. There often being a central home where all the children of the family are welcome. The drug culture too, widespread here, as well as through other countries is barely below the surface, also widespread. Nevertheless, the church here is strong within the culture. Being primarily a Catholic country, it seems to have fragmented into many different sects, or cults as they call them here. 

            The difference is, from what I have seen, is that it's done with passion...and I like to see it. It's done with joy and affection....I like it even more. Perhaps too many years of me observing a Western religion. One where if you were spiritual in a more unconventional way, fear and suspicion arose. Going into Psychic fairs and gatherings there were always demonstrations against what some narrow minded religious people considered wicked behaviour. I knew most of the people involved well, they were primarily good, normal people except for how they believed. They were not bad, or evil, not trucking with the devil as the demonstrators believed. At least they were not burnt as they would have been a few hundred years before, Here, it's all done with such open mindedness. There are churches dedicated to healing, churches to all kinds of worship, in all kinds of ways. Having been to a few such services, even a gathering at someone's home, I can attest that all are carried out with real fervour, commitment. To be involved, to watch, is being privileged to see true believers experience real communion with their God. 

          A man with an Indian headress of Brasil

           It may be a little strong to an English girl like me, watching trembling hands shaking to the sky. Or, seeing eyes closed in order to commune more fervently, to watch healers whose whole attention is on the recipient, stamping feet, speaking strongly. Speaking with passion, with conviction, watching others, legs weakened by passionate belief, take refuge in kneeling. Seeing lips move in involuntary prayer, without being so directed, It's impossible not to be moved. To me, it doesn't mean I am converted to their way of worship. As I believe in a God, in good, in helping and supporting others. In being the best person. I can be. I am content with who I am and what I believe. The bible says, God says "in my house there are many mansions".I believe that means there is more than one way of eeachingrGod. It gives people the freedom to worship as they think best. In a way that's true to their beliefs, to their lifestyle and their culture. How wonderful, how beautiful, how pure. Freedom is a wonderful thing isn't it, true freedom is difficult to acheive.

          As long as none call it wicked, call it wrong, call it evil. As long as people allow others to be true to what they believe and they hurt no one in the process. Then freedom of worship or belief has to be good. Then the World must thrive. How can the way you worship, or what you see as heaven be misguided or wrong. Just do not force your beliefs on others....or allow them to force theirs on you. I wander the World, where I can. I watch and take part in many other religious services, from all I take any part I feel is true. The rest is their particular opinion, or preference.

The day of the dead...or, remembering your ancestors

        I think this is a Japanese custom, or perhaps not quite correct in this case. The church celebrates a holy man, so It's an offshoot of a Japenese man. Now called The church of Igreca, or Johrei. Or perhaps the Johrei part is the actual healing offered. I'm sorry, I just don't know enough of Portugese or the history of the church. Or the man to tell you the full absolutely correct story. I felt I needed to talk of it nevertherless. Primarily it's a cult....a Brasilian word without the connotations we in the West give it. It deals primarilly with healing, you know the 'hands on' healing...well actually, it's hands off, but held up, palms facing you. The gist of this blog is that this church celebrates Ancestor Day on the 2nd November Maybe you guys out there will tell me if this is a bona fide Brasilain day, or not. I could find nothing on Google. But then. Sometimes, I'm 'pants' on Google. I try, not always successfully.

      The nice little building committed to healing. Nearly always manned, by dedicated people.

          After the children's Halloween on last day of October and grown ups Halloween parties on the first day of November, yesterday, the second of November, was 'celebrate your spirit family day.' Or, in other words to remember and call out to your loved ones in the family, who have passed. 'Day of the Dead, someone told me..of course that name stuck.

        The idea is, the names of your passed loved ones are written down, a celebration is held in the evening, in the church. Then......the spirits of your ancestors visit...you there, as you stand in the church. So, you better be ready. That was told me very seriously. That they come to visit....a lovely idea. They say it's rude to call them and then not be there to greet them. As with invites to any guest I suppose. I am not a full member, so forgive me if I get it wrong. They are kind enough to let me attend such things, and give me healings for free, which is wonderful. They can obviously see I am in need. Ha ha. No, really, I'm sure they can. Who of us is not in need of something...even of some sort of healing. I am certainly here in Brasil at this time 'to heal' from all sorts of things, in all sorts of ways. I can only say, it's working for me. Who knows which part of it, so I take it all. The healing from the church, a better diet, of the spirit, more excercise, relaxation, the sun and especially laughter. I feel like a million dollars if I have a good laugh.

              I think the idea is, that by having the church service, we wish the dear departed all the best. Gifting them energy, or love, which it is hoped will provide whatever it is they are missing in their existence right now. If already involved in another life, it may be peace, or water, or help they need...who knows. Life can hit you, or help you all sorts of ways, can't it. If still residing in spirit, it may be strength, or endurance or any of a hundred and one other things that may be lacking for you, or within you. Isn't that a wonderful idea! I believe in re-incarnation, in an after life...but strangely enough I have never thought that someone I know, or have known may already be embroiled in their next life, or in need of help...that I could actually give them that from here. From here with my puny energy, isn't that an amazing though. I know it may be a step too far for some of you, but I am what I am. As with all good or intriguing ideas, you must back them, get involved, so I did.....you know, if you are going to live this life, you may as well live it fully. Give it all a 'GO' as they say nowadays. Throw yourself right in, boots an all.

               At the end of a busy day, it was a hassle to actually get there. It was tempting to give up, not to make the effort, but how cold you leave a church full of guests waiting? The trip involved a walk away from a very comfortable position on the beach, a taxi, a ferry, and another walk. With all the usual waiting and organision such group things demand. Finally, at the start of the evening, we were there, six o clock start... I wonder who told spirit? Sorry, I'm being facetious. The church was crowded, with extra seating throughout, we were packed in like sardines in the heat, the fans were started, which spoiled quite a few hairstyles. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday Best. They all looked lovely, you could see how special they thought the celebration. Many people acknowledged me, I obviously know more people in the church than I think. Me...I had no idea what to expect, I was along out of respect, as well as along for the ride.

               There was the 'too loud' microphone beloved of the Churches and even private ceremonies  of Brasil. Someone made the witty comment...is God deaf then? I put in temporary ear plugs of tissue (having very sensitive ears) and settled down to make what I could of it. There was a nice little ritual, with very austere persons carrying in beautiful china dishes to place on the alter. Like a pagan ceromony I was intrigued to see. One of salt, one water, one rice (instead of rice, it would have been soil, and fire, representing the elements) a similar idea I suppose, having the staples of life offered, or, given thanks for. Music...'Enya'....is played. Suitably ethereal and very loud. Although the song they sang in English, was about chimney sweeps, there could be a slight connection. With cleaning and making ready. More likely though, no one understood the words correctly. But it doesn't matter, the soul of the ceremony was beautiful. Everyone, very respectful and serious.

             Someone important in the church, young, suited and booted, called Junior......something, gave a speech. A long speech. Of which I understood many words, but not the whole story behind them. Obviously I still have a long way to go before I am fluent in Portugese. My friend tried to explain once what he was saying, but it was too much for her to keep up to speed with. By then, I didn't care anyway. A sensitive, psychic and medium from way back, I was already looking around the church with some trepidation. I have not practiced mediumship since 2000 when I was told and felt it was time for the World to change tack. For humanity to become more positive thinkers and creating their own reality. As well as World health and Eco health. Instead of asking 'what has fate in store for me?' no more passivity, being pro-active in your lives, with the world.

               So, there I stood, in a Japenese founded, Brasilain church, on the coast of Brasil, ready to welcome the deceased. With some trepidation as I say, the lists of names, we had all written of our deceased families in the days previous, were on the alter. Who, if anyone would I see.? As always, there were many I would like to see again, I am only human....honestly....despite the rumours. I lost a beloved brother early, a dear cousin I grew up with. My father, who is always chatting away in my ear, even now. So familier is he in my head, I often wonder who is in there...him, or I? Any of those others I was ready for, as well as half expected my Pa to show.

                My last deceased family member was my Mother, only three months back. She lived until ninety years old, was very ill at the end, it was definitely her time. Also, we had a difficult relationship, she and I, with years living in separate countries. But more than that, I did not please my Mother, in fact nothing I did pleased her. She spent most of her life shaking her head over me. From the time I was little, to the time she left. She finally said she loved me in her final days...when drugged out of her head. But I was lucky to have that, many don't. My brother who deserved it more, did not get it. I'm sure she loved me, loved us, as I loved her. Just situations and circumstances, upbringing...you know. Life is difficult very often. To walk a mile in others shoes...and all that.

                   So, who did I see? Who was the first person to show, about fifteen minutes into the ceromony...with a flounce of a brightly coloured/patterned dress. She loved flirty, floaty clothes, glitter and kitten heels, yes, it was my Mother. I have to say, quite unexpectedly, but the energy she gave out was full of life, happy. My Mother who's energy was mostly low level and passive. She was so close, in my face and I was happy. Happy for her, happy she came, happy she felt so good, so different. Behind her, hanging back, with her, but only guiding her. Obviously taking care of her was her son, my brother. The very one I said often to her, who would be the one to meet her when she passed over. Only hoping he would, wanting to give her hope of an after life, which she did not have. She lost it when he died. I could not have seen anything, or any one better really. By then, the tears were streaming down my face, it's an emotional experience seeing a loved one. Towards the end I had a quick flash of my cousin, not as close by as Mother. She was obviously given the real visit, my Mum came to see me. She said if there was anything in this stuff I had been telling her, she would come and visit....and there she was. 

             Bless you Mother, may you keep that bright and happy energy. You deserve it. You gave me the joy of seeing you....of being answered on Ancestors day. I only hope my/our prayers give you something back too. Now, I know you are content, and know my brother is with you....I shall worry no more of you perhaps being lost......really, I should know better. I'm not religious in the true sense of the word, but none of us are left floundering. All of us are scooped up, protected as we need.

              I'm glad I made the effort to travel that evening and to go to meet my ancestors, for how lucky am I...

May you all be as lucky.....

              Brasil is a country that gives and gives to me...I'm definitely in the right place right now. I think that's the secret if life, to be in the right place, at the right time. 

         

Halloween...in South America

          We have just had Halloween here in a brasil. It was great, my first here, as I have always missed it before. For once this week the rain stayed away, it gave the children a wonderful warm and wonderful night for playing 'dress up'. Like in America, the kids make the most of it. It's good in England, and in NewZealand and Australia, but here...somehow it has the ingredient X which makes it extra special. I'm sure the setting helps a great deal

                             A witch, with Pumkin and bride of Dracula.

           The kds all dress up course, it's what they love to do wherever they are in the World. The twist here is, that instead of the children knocking on private doors, up and down streets, which I hate....it never feels safe to me. They run up and the down the shopping streets in town, popping in and out of shops, collecting sweeties in a plastic pumpkins. They collected prodigious amounts of loot and some were still going strong at eleven or more. One round of shops doesn't seem to do it. They just kept going. Generous shopkeepers I say, and tireless children dragging around exhausted dads and mums, but I think a good deal of socialising went on in all age groups! The benifit of an island type community, most people know most everybody else. 

                         We had a wide variety of ages, and costumes on show.                 

         The costumes were well done. Ranging from shop bought and hired to obviously home made. All showed a great deal of ingenuity. Most of kids paused for me and my camera, and the parents. The atomosphere was electric and very friendly.  The kids had boundless energy, as always. You could see everyone was having tremendous fun, including me...who after a while,  sat at the corner bar and watched the world go by. What a world it was too, ghosts, gouls and magical characters I their dozens.

                    A wonderful fairy and little red riding hood.

        The night began at six with a bang! The smaller children getting started early. The streets which were already reasonably busy, were soon crowded with more children than you normally see around town in a month. As you can imagine, the excitement levels were high. Collecting sweets and candy was treated like gold mining.

              I never discovered why two forks, but he was happy as he leapt past.

         Yes, really he was..grinning all over his face. Don't know how I got him looking so serious. Mothers and daughter dressed alike, even boys, quite big boys were dressed up. No seemed to worry about image, or  embarrassment. They were all too focused on collecting nice things to eat. Some of the bigger kids had plastic bags half full. It must have cost the shop keepers a pretty penny. 

    

                        A cute mother and daughter combo.

          All in all, it was a lovely night, nice energy, friendly energy. Not one was trying to spook anyone else...

        Although on lookng back at my photos, the camera was really playing up. It was smudged, indistinct. These photos are the few remaining from dozens which didn't come out at all. Or came out in blur of smudged colour.....what wa that all about then? I guess there was some extra energy going the rounds as well as excitement from the children.

       This was how the majority of my nights work came out....stranger and stranger.....hey?

      The next night it was the grownups turn..there was a big party at at the local club. The party began much later, around eleven. With no collection of sweets and I must say their costumes were truly amazing. Sad to say, there to have fun myself, I couldn't carry my iPad. Also it poured down all night, there were some soggy ghost and skeletons tonight. Now, at past four in the morning, it's still raining and the music in town is still pounding away, me I'm in bed..I have a heavy day at the beach in the morning. No better place to recoup a lack of sleep.

         Brasil.....I love you. You are quite unique.