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Posts Tagged ‘perfection’

I shall imitate the dolphin
And ride the waves of laughter
I will invade the world with joy
and conquer everafter

The song of the greatest whale
is the lullaby of tides
my soul sings in love and hope
who said love’s dead, has lied

I will flow with the water of time
Take care, collect my answers
I shall dream my dreams and own them
My thoughts will soar, like dancers

I’ll shun the deception in the wind
I’ll listen to my heart
I will not weep for days gone by
I’ll not be torn apart

I’ll float upon the world of the sea
Caress and gently rock my soul
Ride the high waves with my love of life
It’s mine, It’s mine, I have it all

By Barbara Thompson

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Perfection, noun

“the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects”Oxford Dictionary Pointless pursuit of perfection

Why do we strive constantly for perfection, what is perfection? What is enough? When do we find acceptance and understand that we can only do so much before the cracks start to show, before we start to splinter a little bit at a time, before the cracks become to large and it becomes difficult to find our way back.

I am a perfectionist, a work-horse, a task master, an unyielding “encourager”! Which at times I am told, is hell to live with – this I cannot deny.

I am  one of those people who clears the dishes right after the last person puts the last morsel of food into there mouth (this can sometimes feel like an eternity with an 8 year old). I am the person who packs the dishwasher as I am cooking – just so that I can work in an ordered environment. I am the person who brushes their teeth and wipes down the bathroom bench top at the same time. I am the person who cannot climb under the bed covers during the day if I decide to have a rest – bedcovers are only going to sleep at night you see. I cannot go to bed and sleep peacefully with a  kitchen piled with dishes. I like my knee rugs and table tops to be neatly arranged when I lie my head down on my plumped pillow at night. I agonise over which pen to write with as I like a really fine nib that doesn’t “splotch” or mark my papers. I have started hand-written journals a dozen times only to throw them out – what’s authentic about writing in pencil only to rub it out because it is not neat enough or the grammar is questionable. If truth be told, the list goes on and on and it is simply a part of who I am.

I can laugh at these character traits in my personality, it’s my quirks and foibles that make up the person that is me, but, where it becomes a problem is when it impacts on those around me and creates tension, stress and discontentment in them. Over the years I have pushed my husband to strive for bigger and better opportunities, to push himself hard towards that elusive place called success. In reality he was already on that path by his own means, I simply rushed it along at a dizzying speed. This was not all bad, it meant travel, adventure and promotion, but, along with that came stress, discontentment and uncertainty, not the ingredients for the “perfect family life”.  Am I responsible for his success or failure, no, but I am guilty of putting my own measure against it. Unfortunately my pursuit of perfection does not always remain contained in a box just for me.

I have two bright, kind, generous, beautiful children, an intelligent, kind and generous husband. They are not perfect, they are human and fallible just like all of us, but, at times I forget that. I forget that they don’t function on my command, they make their own choices, they do their best, they make their own mistakes, have their own successes. They measure all of this by their own yard stick, not mine.

What I have learnt: Through my journey of introspection, forgiveness and acceptance, I have learnt I have the capacity to accept life as it is. I have learnt that I can only adjust my own behaviour and perception and that everyone else’s is there own, and how they choose to use the life they have been given is not in my control. I have learnt that I can provide a safe, loving, healthy home for my children, so that they may grow into the human beings they choose to be, but I cannot force them to be anything other than themselves. I have learnt that it is possible to truly love someone even if at times, I do not like them. I have learnt that we are all enough.

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How can a heart feel such pain
Without exploding into a million fragments
How can a soul burn with such fire
Without turning the world to cinders
How many tears have to flow
Before a river is created
My body aches with sadness
My mind is dulled and grey
I am injured by grief and sorrow
How long is this road I tread?
Is there sunshine up ahead?

By Barbara Thompson

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“See me first and then my disability, or just see me.” – Robert Pio Hajjar

I have a friend who has been given a gift, this gift is filled with joy, filled with innocence, filled with love. this gift is like no other gift, you can’t return it or exchange it, you can’t re-package it or put it in the cupboard to pass on to someone else. This gift is forever. This gift is her son and he has Down syndrome.

In the last year or so I have watched as my friend has been knocked down time and time again by an unforgiving system, (with exception of a few) that doesn’t seem to be able to support her or is unwilling to find ways to do so. Every time she is knocked down, she stands right back up and starts all over again. I can only guess at the mental and emotional resilience required by her and her family to constantly face the negativity, discrimination and inequity that she has to deal with on a daily basis.

In the short time I have known this beautiful boy I have been blessed to experience his unguarded excitement, exuberant affection, focussed determination and heartfelt gentleness. This boy is no better than any other child, he is not perfect,  he doesn’t deserve more than anyone else, he is just like every other little boy and girl. He laughs, learns, plays and gets into mischief just like all the other children.

“I won’t change anything about Archie because he has Down syndrome, I won’t take that away.” ~ Archie & Me

Yes, he does need extra help in school and looking after him requires a little extra vigilance as the sighting of a butterfly might catch his eye and send him running after it onto another adventure. Maybe at times if we could see life through his almond shaped eyes, we could remember the wonder that the world holds and forgive his flights of fancy and thank him for showing us another view. Maybe we could help him on his way to his dreams and we may even be lucky enough to catch some of his magic along the way.


“when people like me are given love, encouragement and opportunity, amazing results are possible” ~ Rober Pio Hajjar – Ideal Way

As an observer in my friends world, I am grateful that she has chosen the long and difficult road of including her son in a mainstream school, in doing so, she opens up our children’s world to learn tolerance, inclusion, compassion and equality and for that I am grateful.

The world is not a perfect place, it is messy, joyful, sad, complicated and colourful, we would all do well to remember that we are only a very small part of what makes up a very big planet for which we all have our own purpose to be on and share.

To my dear friend, your road is long and challenging but you are brave and strong and we will all be by your side as you make your journey. Not only to support you and your family but also to share in the magic that follows you. Thank you for letting us be a part of your son’s life, in doing so, you have shared your precious gift with us.

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Nothing is perfect

Nothing is perfect, except maybe the stars and snowflakes
And only God may point a finger
You have no right to open my wounds
So go now, please don’t linger
I refuse the guilt you want me to feel
I refuse the hatred you send my way
I refuse the contempt and lack of compassion
I refuse your pity each and every day
The way you behave, breaks my heart
The foolish things you say and do
Look in the mirror, when you judge so harshly
The person looking back, surely can’t be you
I feel as though in a dreamlike trance
In waking, will I be rid of the pain?
I love you more than the sun and the moon
Please bring back the sun, please shut out the rain
I am the walking wounded
I am the broken loser
I’m alive, but really dead
A foolish self abuser

By Barbara Thompson

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Be at peace
Be still
Be one with the world
Be one with your fellow man
Love overwhelmingly
Love everything
Forgive instantly
Let go, Let God
Don’t question nature
Embrace it
Celebrate life
Set your soul on fire
Find fulfilment
Find joy, find happiness
Find the wonder that is you
Protect the weak
Guide the lost
Love the lonely
Be at peace
Be still

By Barbara Thompson

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If making love is the small death
then I now believe the betrayal
by ones emotions is the big one
To find out someone you have adored
for years has feet of clay
To perceive them in what must be the reality like the shattering of glass
To watch someone who always
seemed larger than life
shrink before your eyes, to regress
to crass emotions and endeavours
This is the the ultimate betrayal
This is that loss of love

There is nothing new under the sun
Life is a dress rehearsal
Dream your dream, it can be done
It’s all there for your perusal
One night, the stars dress up for you
Next day a tempest rages
and there’s nothing you can say or do
To turn, torn and dirty pages
This, to shall pass, wise men say
There’s no pain that you can’t bear
It looks, like life is just a cliche
The cloth you cut, is what you’ll wear
Why was I for, what am I living
Cries the heart thats badly broken
What happened to the world forgiving
Has my life been just a forgotten token

I remember so clearly the day I was
Abused
I remember the man, dark hair, moustache
Brown shirt, yellow tie and shiny knife
Seven other children watched in shock
No-one tried to move, scream or help
I remember the police and they scared
Me as much as the man
I remember being seven and I remember
The feeling of being absolutely and totally alone
There were no conversations about it
No-one explained, there was no help
I had nightmares for years
Only in the last years have I
Managed to confront it – The reaction
Was the same, so what, who cares
And I remember, the fear and the
Old guilt that somehow it was my
Own fault
Do we ever get rid of the old shadows
in our lives?
Are we allowed to dine in peace?
The books and and Know-it-alls say yes
But is it really true?

By Barbara Thompson

Footnote: This is the most I have ever heard about the abuse my mother endured, she never spoke of it. I knew something had happened when she was a young girl, but I never knew her age, I never truly knew her pain.  

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