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Writings
Monday December 26, 2005
Grieving silently
I was watching the news tonight. Twelve months since the Tsunami in Indonesia. They showed footage of the survivors and their families, by the sea, throwing wreaths into the sea. Then they showed an Indonesian Mosque filled with mourners. These were the people who lived there. Who haven't had time to grieve over the last 12 months. They were too busy re-building their lives. They were now taking the time for their grief.I guess the most striking differences, besides the clothes, was the attitude of the different cultures. The westerners were silent. Their tears were silent. The Indonesians were vocal in their grief. As a whole, they grieved vocally. I didn't understand the words. I did understand the tears and the facial expressions.In our Western society, making noises to go along with your feelings is seen as wrong. I remember when my son was born. I was pushing, physically, and I grunted. I was told in no uncertain terms to be quiet, that I didn't need to make those silly noises, that the pain wasn't as bad as I was making out. In fact, it was not the pain, but the pushing that was generating the noises. But, as a Westerner, in a Western society, I was told to be quiet.When my daughter was about 14 or 15 years old, her best friend was killed in a car accident. Susan's whole class went to the funeral. I was watching the young people. One of the girls began to wail. And it was a wail. Watching I could see the emotion spread from one young person to another until as a group, they were all crying and vocalising their grief. I looked around me, through my own tears, and looked at the other mourners. Some saw these young people's emotional vocalising as permission to grieve more openly. Others appeared quite disgusted with the behaviour of these young people.As a Westerner, I have been trained from an early age to keep my feelings to myself. I work with women who feel they are too emotional and want to learn to feel and express their emotions. I also work with women who feel they are emotionally stunted because of their training. But they want to be able to express their feelings "appropriately".I personally envied the Indonesians I saw on television. They had permission to be together, to grieve openly, to have physical contact with others, and to feel their feelings. They had to wait 12 months to do this, but the grief was still real. I suspect their way is psychologically more healthy than our Western methods of dealing with feelings. An emotional person, in our society, is often seen as weak so we teach out children, particularly our boys, to hide and hold onto their feelings.MadeleineMonday, 26 December 2005 | | Posted by Gezunda at 6:12 AM - | |
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Sunday December 25, 2005
Thursday December 22, 2005
Good morning everyone. The kids have gone out. I’m alone for once. Just wanted to share a little picture with you. We went out to dinner last night to a Mexican restaurant that MA and a number of his friends worked at when they were younger. They still know the owner and generally take over the restaurant while the gang is there. I am usually invited as I was a large part of their lives at that age. During the later years of high school a number of the boys lived with us for various reasons. Anyway KJ and I decided to share a dessert. It was something called Platanos. When it arrived, KJ (and the others) almost wet ourselves with laughter. It turned out to taste delicious. Fried banana with a peanut caramel sauce served with ice cream and cream.  We are having a lovely, albeit hectic visit and I’m writing in the background so I can share some of our happening with everyone when things settle down a bit. At this stage, KJ and I are doing a lot of shopping. And we shop well together. Had a win as well. We went to one of the busier shopping centres yesterday, and got a park within 100 feet of the entrance. Imagine that, busy shopping centre, 3 days before Christmas, and we get a really good parking spot. Someone up there must be looking after us. MA and KJ and friends went indoor rock climbing yesterday. I went along as the official photographer, driver, and general dogsbody. I’d never seen indoor rock climbing before and I’m glad I went, and as far as I’m concerned, forget it. I’m too old and creaky for that sort of stuff any more. But they enjoyed themselves and I had the pleasure of three sweaty, smelly bodies in my car on the way home. With a discussion as to whether they smelled worse or did a dirty dawg smell worse. Lotsa laughs. Thanks for listening. I’ve been briefly browsing, but not reading very much. Colo, I will have a lovely Christmas, thank you. PolarB: You can get into any sort of mischief you want. Mischief is good for the soul LOL. Diesel: Will be back and will tell of my adventures. You behave too, you hear buddy. Mama Bear: I think the bears will behave themselves, remember Santa is coming and that’s always a good threat with little bears. Graffiti: they will always be “kids” to me even though I know they can look after themselves. They even look after me sometimes. Enjoy your new job. Dazey: Thanks for stopping by and your good wishes. Ice: Feet, legs etc have all be hurting like the dickens, but as I say, there are always drugs. I looooove my drugs. Thanks for your compliments. I do like them (Gezunda blushing). Johnnie: Thanks for stopping by. I’ll be visiting you again that’s for sure. Thank you all for being there and reading. As Colo says, we have something special on this here old blogstream. Ciao Madeleine Friday, 23 December 2005 | | Posted by Gezunda at 8:42 PM - | |
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Tuesday December 20, 2005
I've done it (I think). I've changed my name. Rosymosie is now officially Gezunda !! No more getting mixed up with the other Rosie. Wouldn't it be nice if we could change our names that easily. If you could change your name, what would your name be? Gezunda (ex Rosymosie)  | | Posted by Gezunda at 8:35 AM - | |
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I wish
I wish my body and my mind would get together. My mind feels
about 25; my body about 150,000 years old.
I’ve been on my feet too much today, wearing the wrong shoes,
and my body knows it. Why do our bodies have to start to slow down long before
our minds do?
Over the years I’ve always worn “sensible” shoes, right from
being a teenager walking to school. None of the pretty shoes for me. Sensible,
always. Over they years, the arthritis kicked in, and I kept wearing “sensible”
shoes. Always felt that this would help. Didn’t. About a year ago, I thought,
NUTZ!! My joints are going to hurt no matter what bloody shoes I wear, so I
bought myself some pretty shoes, what I call flip flops. You women know what I
mean, the backless shoes, that go flip flop.
Today, as part of my job, I had to go and talk to some women
about our services and what we offer. It was in a park. Guess who was wearing
her flip flops. Not suitable for wandering around a park that’s for sure.
Got back to the office and we had our Christmas lunch. So guess
who was on her feet for the rest of the day. Bugger!! (BTW, in Australia that’s not a swear word).
So now, the old girl’s sitting at the computer, with a little
dawg watching her every move, wondering if mom’s going to take her for a walk
tonight. And the little dawg’s mom knows the little dawg is not going for a
walk, cause mom simply cannot move!!
Hopefully my brain never catches old age from my body. That
would be disastrous.
Tomorrow is another day. The kids arrive tomorrow. There are
always drugs. I’m fine.
Madeleine
Tuesday, 20 December 2005
| | Posted by Gezunda at 5:07 AM - | |
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