Dear hearts,
2010. Totally Capital number worthy. Very auspicious.
Miss Christine has just informed me that it is the year of the Tiger. Miss Mich is a hungry tiger, being born at 6 in the am. I have a good feeling about this new year Dear hearts. Look out...
I have decided, after discussion with Miss Christine, that it is also the Year of being Brave. We have decided that we are not pussy footing around anymore. Oh no...put that cat bell away and bring out the whip and chair (this for Miss Mich and the Libertine...obvi..)
I encourage you Dear hearts, to also be brave. Take the big cat by the tail and meet those challenges that have been on your list all last year. Miss Mich has several for sure and feels encouraged to move forward ...
On Miss Mich's universal list of things to accomplish in 2010 we find the following:
World Peace ...obvi
Say what you mean and mean what you say
Be a straight (or gay) shooter. Either way don't manipulate or play games
Play games...sport sport sport
Trust – the big issue for Miss Mich at the end of 09, but she is getting there
Faith. Have faith in yourself and the rest will follow
Cut back on the cherry tomato addiction. Those in the know, know
But what to replace it with? All suggestions gratefully accepted
Did I mention sport?
Get that pony. I swear it's been on the list since I gave up Jordie
Love...obvi
The list is just a starting point. You may add your own goals and dip into the list yourselves. Here at the cottage we have a wise and gracious Buddha, facing east of course. At the beginning of each year the bright young things and I put a scroll under his benevolent arm with our wish for the year. The strike rate so far is excellent. I suggest to you Dear hearts, that you find your own deity, make your application, and if your wish is true and the universe sees fit, you may be surprised.
There is nothing like a new beginning. We have the opportunity to start afresh. We get to remake the rules for ourselves and consolidate our positions. For Miss Mich the more athletic the position, the better. Sport aside, think about what you truly wish to achieve in 2010.
And remember, we are our own greatest assets.
Enjoy the new year.
With love and all its potential
Miss Mich
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Lovesong
Dear hearts,
Miss Mich is on holidays...and not a moment too soon. The last thing I want is to get tetchy with you my loves, and we were getting perilously close. The Bright Young Things have been feeling the sharp edge of my tongue and there is a certain chicken who was oh so close to hearing the truth as I see it...mercifully the 23rd came along and all were released from the potential of Miss Mich's somewhat acerbic point of view.
Patience.
Not only am I giving P the capital letter it deserves, I am giving it a stand alone paragraph. Such is the esteem in which I hold said virtue. All because, of course, I do not possess it. Is Patience the same as Tolerance? Surely they are related. Nelson Mandela would not have survived all those years in jail without the tag team of both. Same with that Burmese chick under house arrest all these years. How stupid are both those ridiculous and unconscionable situations. All that Winnie Mandela....Miss Mich must confess to getting Winnie confused with Aretha. Am I right though? You know I am...Respect to both obvi...And don't get me started on the exiled Dalai Lama...
Political internment aside, Miss Mich is thinking more of emotional internment. Hard to corral a beating heart, Dear hearts. You can only rope 'em so much. The heart is going to bust out and do something crazy as the baby would say. Different to psycho obvi...All because, of course, that emotion does not rhyme with tempered. Passionate maybe. I'm sure there is a Ted Hughes poem that puts heart and passion and possibly something in the extreme in the same stanza. In fact, if the print out on my fridge does not lie...
Where do I start...
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love knot
I could go on, well Ted could... but then I would need to bite and scratch and push and pull just like Ted. And that may not be viewed as nice in polite company. And Miss Mich is nothing if not nice. Especially in polite company...
Given the afore mentioned, Miss Mich is in the process of learning Patience. Not easy, Dear hearts. It's one thing to wait for the pony on the list for Santa...
It's a bit of a Zen thing really, and when Miss Mich puts it in those terms, she can almost sell it to herself. Maybe the best approach is to knock herself out for a prescribed period of time, wake up refreshed, 3 kilos lighter and the prize in her lap...everybody would be happy and we could all go home.
I keep telling myself Patience is good. It really is. But to be honest, I actually value Tenacity above Patience. How long is one going to sit around and wait for Patience to grant you your wish. At least with Tenacity, one has the opportunity to work oneself towards the prize. With Tenacity, we have the option to take the responsibility on ourselves. I fear with Patience, it is up to some other force to grant or not...
In Miss Mich's world, her money is on herself, not some ephemeral and capricious sense of justice that may or may not grant said wish. And when a pony is on the line,Dear hearts, Miss Mich is not prepared to take any chances.
Enjoy Sunday.
With love entwined (thank you Ted)
Miss Mich
Miss Mich is on holidays...and not a moment too soon. The last thing I want is to get tetchy with you my loves, and we were getting perilously close. The Bright Young Things have been feeling the sharp edge of my tongue and there is a certain chicken who was oh so close to hearing the truth as I see it...mercifully the 23rd came along and all were released from the potential of Miss Mich's somewhat acerbic point of view.
Patience.
Not only am I giving P the capital letter it deserves, I am giving it a stand alone paragraph. Such is the esteem in which I hold said virtue. All because, of course, I do not possess it. Is Patience the same as Tolerance? Surely they are related. Nelson Mandela would not have survived all those years in jail without the tag team of both. Same with that Burmese chick under house arrest all these years. How stupid are both those ridiculous and unconscionable situations. All that Winnie Mandela....Miss Mich must confess to getting Winnie confused with Aretha. Am I right though? You know I am...Respect to both obvi...And don't get me started on the exiled Dalai Lama...
Political internment aside, Miss Mich is thinking more of emotional internment. Hard to corral a beating heart, Dear hearts. You can only rope 'em so much. The heart is going to bust out and do something crazy as the baby would say. Different to psycho obvi...All because, of course, that emotion does not rhyme with tempered. Passionate maybe. I'm sure there is a Ted Hughes poem that puts heart and passion and possibly something in the extreme in the same stanza. In fact, if the print out on my fridge does not lie...
Where do I start...
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love knot
I could go on, well Ted could... but then I would need to bite and scratch and push and pull just like Ted. And that may not be viewed as nice in polite company. And Miss Mich is nothing if not nice. Especially in polite company...
Given the afore mentioned, Miss Mich is in the process of learning Patience. Not easy, Dear hearts. It's one thing to wait for the pony on the list for Santa...
It's a bit of a Zen thing really, and when Miss Mich puts it in those terms, she can almost sell it to herself. Maybe the best approach is to knock herself out for a prescribed period of time, wake up refreshed, 3 kilos lighter and the prize in her lap...everybody would be happy and we could all go home.
I keep telling myself Patience is good. It really is. But to be honest, I actually value Tenacity above Patience. How long is one going to sit around and wait for Patience to grant you your wish. At least with Tenacity, one has the opportunity to work oneself towards the prize. With Tenacity, we have the option to take the responsibility on ourselves. I fear with Patience, it is up to some other force to grant or not...
In Miss Mich's world, her money is on herself, not some ephemeral and capricious sense of justice that may or may not grant said wish. And when a pony is on the line,Dear hearts, Miss Mich is not prepared to take any chances.
Enjoy Sunday.
With love entwined (thank you Ted)
Miss Mich
Saturday, December 26, 2009
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
Dear hearts,
Over a bowl of steaming soup in our favourite Asian palace, Tinkerbell and Miss Mich were musing on the proclivities of the various Charms in our lives. Both present and past.
We could only refer to them as The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
Bearing in mind that the really, really good looking ones could be ugly, we moved on from looks alone…
It is unfortunate for Miss Mich that she has had one of those weeks where the bad and the ugly from her past have reared their said ugly heads. It is not often that Miss Mich gets really cross and maybe she is tired. It has been a long year sharing the pen love, mentoring the chickens and living with the Bright Young Things in the cottage that feels like a share house at the moment.
We did in fact end up laughing about who was good, laughing about who was bad and laughing about who was ugly. If you can’t laugh….
Miss Mich wishes she could share with you some of the stories exchanged. Suffice to say the little wontons were spinning in their broth as we upped the ante with each new wish on our respective Charm’s lists. I must make the disclaimer that some of the acts performed really do defy both gravity and the laws of decency and all I have to say on the matter is dirty sanchez…
Sport aside, the point must be made that whether one is a Charm on someone’s bracelet of experience, an active partner in any kind of arrangement, or just a passing ship in the night, there is a basic code of conduct. It is disappointing that some Charms do not subscribe to this. This is why, Dear hearts, Miss Mich resists the “r” word, has decided to go back under the cloak and has put that sorry bracelet at the very back of the underwear drawer where it shall remain.
As much as Miss Mich loves words, one can speak all you like. It is our actions that reveal who we are and what we stand for. Even though Miss Mich has finished with the Charms, it seems one of the Charms has still not finished with her. 10 points if you can guess who…That thorn in the side, that unfortunate ill mannered and I hate to say it, but low class experience is clearly going to need a few more lives before he evolves up the spiritual ladder. It is perhaps Miss Mich’s penance from a former life that she must be the one to show the way to this errant disappointment. As MM has said, do not destroy the goodwill that remains in memory. We must not erode the good that we leave behind. Remember this Dear hearts. Getting nasty achieves nothing but the assurance that the nasty will come back to visit you. The classic, what goes around comes around.
Make no mistake, Miss Mich is very determined to teach the lesson that is needed here. And she will. The universe and the Libertine will see to that.
Enjoy Sunday.
With love and discipline
Miss Mich
Over a bowl of steaming soup in our favourite Asian palace, Tinkerbell and Miss Mich were musing on the proclivities of the various Charms in our lives. Both present and past.
We could only refer to them as The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
Bearing in mind that the really, really good looking ones could be ugly, we moved on from looks alone…
It is unfortunate for Miss Mich that she has had one of those weeks where the bad and the ugly from her past have reared their said ugly heads. It is not often that Miss Mich gets really cross and maybe she is tired. It has been a long year sharing the pen love, mentoring the chickens and living with the Bright Young Things in the cottage that feels like a share house at the moment.
We did in fact end up laughing about who was good, laughing about who was bad and laughing about who was ugly. If you can’t laugh….
Miss Mich wishes she could share with you some of the stories exchanged. Suffice to say the little wontons were spinning in their broth as we upped the ante with each new wish on our respective Charm’s lists. I must make the disclaimer that some of the acts performed really do defy both gravity and the laws of decency and all I have to say on the matter is dirty sanchez…
Sport aside, the point must be made that whether one is a Charm on someone’s bracelet of experience, an active partner in any kind of arrangement, or just a passing ship in the night, there is a basic code of conduct. It is disappointing that some Charms do not subscribe to this. This is why, Dear hearts, Miss Mich resists the “r” word, has decided to go back under the cloak and has put that sorry bracelet at the very back of the underwear drawer where it shall remain.
As much as Miss Mich loves words, one can speak all you like. It is our actions that reveal who we are and what we stand for. Even though Miss Mich has finished with the Charms, it seems one of the Charms has still not finished with her. 10 points if you can guess who…That thorn in the side, that unfortunate ill mannered and I hate to say it, but low class experience is clearly going to need a few more lives before he evolves up the spiritual ladder. It is perhaps Miss Mich’s penance from a former life that she must be the one to show the way to this errant disappointment. As MM has said, do not destroy the goodwill that remains in memory. We must not erode the good that we leave behind. Remember this Dear hearts. Getting nasty achieves nothing but the assurance that the nasty will come back to visit you. The classic, what goes around comes around.
Make no mistake, Miss Mich is very determined to teach the lesson that is needed here. And she will. The universe and the Libertine will see to that.
Enjoy Sunday.
With love and discipline
Miss Mich
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Library
Dear hearts,
The Libertine has put forward the idea of the body and mind as a library. Miss Mich for one, loves the concept and has decided to embrace it and take up a membership.
When you think about it, we are a body of work. Literally and metaphorically. This is right up Miss Mich's Cannery Row.
We are like books on a bookshelf. Some open, some dusty. Some closed, never to be understood. On the subject of books closed, Sha ron Morrie and Miss Mich do need to make it public that our friendship books are perilously close to being full…and don’t even ask about our dance cards…
I would like to concentrate for a moment on the idea of borrowing. I have been in discussion of late about the nature of give and take in a relationship. Miss Mich must take the stand here to proclaim just how much she hates the word relationship. It is never satisfactory in my view. Notice it does not qualify for Capital letter worthy status. I am happy to relate. Relate all you like. Have relations. I prefer to call a shag a shag myself. But the term “relationship” conjours up, in my experience, coercion, manipulation, liberty taken and the grey area that a relationship is not one thing or another. One always has a back door with a relationship. There are no balls required.
Back to give and take and the concept of borrowing. It has been Miss Mich’s experience, up until now, that the sperm donor and the Charms all presented themselves as giving. It must be said that they did in fact give much to Miss Mich and yes, she will always be grateful. The disclaimer here is, Dear hearts, is, that it was given with an agenda in mind. Whether the sperm donor or the charms would admit it or not, the fact remains that MM served many a purpose to many a charm. A price was always extracted. Miss Mich has felt the deficit in her emotional and financial credits, don’t you worry. Hence her reticence when it comes to the “r” word.
The Libertine put himself at the front of the pack when he proposed to “borrow” some positive energy. Miss Mich was immediately interested and made up a library card that very moment. Kept by the side of the bed, it is a “ready reckoner” of bits visited, energy exchanged and ideas put forward. There is even the option of extending the lending period, revisiting previous points of interest with the promise of greater understanding and appreciation. Miss Mich, as you can imagine, is all for thorough investigation and the tenacity of getting things right…Again and again. Miss Mich loves multiples. Especially when it comes to sport…obvi.
Miss Mich likes to think of giving without the taking part, In this instance she is not of the yin yang opinion. More the tantric path of a circular exchange. Give and you get. Not give and you take. Giving with the aim of just giving is extraordinary. Altruism of the heart, Dear hearts. Let us embrace this little darling and see the difference it makes. One immediately relaxes, knowing the the giver is not going to end up an Indian and as a result, ends up giving more in return.
Enjoy Sunday.
Love without a cost.
Miss Mich
The Libertine has put forward the idea of the body and mind as a library. Miss Mich for one, loves the concept and has decided to embrace it and take up a membership.
When you think about it, we are a body of work. Literally and metaphorically. This is right up Miss Mich's Cannery Row.
We are like books on a bookshelf. Some open, some dusty. Some closed, never to be understood. On the subject of books closed, Sha ron Morrie and Miss Mich do need to make it public that our friendship books are perilously close to being full…and don’t even ask about our dance cards…
I would like to concentrate for a moment on the idea of borrowing. I have been in discussion of late about the nature of give and take in a relationship. Miss Mich must take the stand here to proclaim just how much she hates the word relationship. It is never satisfactory in my view. Notice it does not qualify for Capital letter worthy status. I am happy to relate. Relate all you like. Have relations. I prefer to call a shag a shag myself. But the term “relationship” conjours up, in my experience, coercion, manipulation, liberty taken and the grey area that a relationship is not one thing or another. One always has a back door with a relationship. There are no balls required.
Back to give and take and the concept of borrowing. It has been Miss Mich’s experience, up until now, that the sperm donor and the Charms all presented themselves as giving. It must be said that they did in fact give much to Miss Mich and yes, she will always be grateful. The disclaimer here is, Dear hearts, is, that it was given with an agenda in mind. Whether the sperm donor or the charms would admit it or not, the fact remains that MM served many a purpose to many a charm. A price was always extracted. Miss Mich has felt the deficit in her emotional and financial credits, don’t you worry. Hence her reticence when it comes to the “r” word.
The Libertine put himself at the front of the pack when he proposed to “borrow” some positive energy. Miss Mich was immediately interested and made up a library card that very moment. Kept by the side of the bed, it is a “ready reckoner” of bits visited, energy exchanged and ideas put forward. There is even the option of extending the lending period, revisiting previous points of interest with the promise of greater understanding and appreciation. Miss Mich, as you can imagine, is all for thorough investigation and the tenacity of getting things right…Again and again. Miss Mich loves multiples. Especially when it comes to sport…obvi.
Miss Mich likes to think of giving without the taking part, In this instance she is not of the yin yang opinion. More the tantric path of a circular exchange. Give and you get. Not give and you take. Giving with the aim of just giving is extraordinary. Altruism of the heart, Dear hearts. Let us embrace this little darling and see the difference it makes. One immediately relaxes, knowing the the giver is not going to end up an Indian and as a result, ends up giving more in return.
Enjoy Sunday.
Love without a cost.
Miss Mich
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Dear M
Dear hearts,
Miss Mich has been reflecting on a conversation with her favourite Aide de Camp, Ms LA.
It appears one her closest confidants, we shall call her M, is struggling with a few curly issues of her own.
Aren’t we all Dear heart. Aren’t we all. Having the hard won experience she has, Miss Mich feels she is in a position to advise M of several key points she needs to keep in mind. These apply to us all Dear hearts, so stay with me...
In the great Zen Buddhist tradition, nothing lasts forever. Nothing is more true. Think of everything you have ever done, good or bad. Eventually it comes to an end. It is over. A bummer when it comes to great sex or a good book. Relief when it comes to the gynecologist or the magistrates court.
Leading on from that is Change. Totally Capital letter worthy. The net result of things coming to an end is Change. Despite what you may think at the time, change is the force that helps us to grow. Makes us look beyond ourselves. It can be brutal and give us no choice but to be adaptable and creative. It hurts, but let me tell you M, at the end of the day, you will look back and realise it was the Universe pointing you in the right direction.
Guilt. I don't want to hear about it. And yet, we all suffer from it. Guilt is the demon of religion, the most manipulative of the emotions. And used for evil by most Popes, Dictators and definitely Miss Mich's mother. But that is another story. For you Dear M, I urge you to stay away from that nasty piece of goods that is guilt. You are on a hiding to nowhere and guilt will not thank you for accommodating it's sorry arse. In the wise words of a bumper sticker I first saw in the 80's...Shit happens. And there is nothing you can do about it.Whether you caused it or it came to you, the best thing you can do is just get on with it and do the best you can without beating yourself up.
Which segue ways beautifully to love. Love thyself. Literally, if you have an appliance, and metaphorically if you still have a heart. It goes without saying that if you love and value yourself, then others will follow. If the opposite is how you treat yourself, then you can only expect the same in kind. Miss Mich's legal eagle made quite the point when he told MM in one of her dark moments, that it is because of who you are that people will either be kind or otherwise. Who you are is a direct reflection of how you see yourself.
Forgiveness. A tricky one I admit. Miss Mich struggles herself with a few choice players in her journey, but tries her best to turn the other cheek. Especially difficult when what she really wants to do is slap the opponents cheek...(MM refers herself to her previous tete e tete on work in progress...) Miss Mich’s anger management issues aside, I advise you M, to work on forgiveness. Forgive yourself first, obvi. Once you have done that you can move on and forgive others. It helps with acceptance and makes for a clear head and clean beginning.
The last little word of wisdom I have is Trust. Trust yourself and your belly. You know how Miss Mich feels about this. I feel it is particularly relevant here dear M. If we close our eyes and just feel, you will know the path to take. I now feel compelled to ask you to snatch the pebble from my hand and call you Grasshopper, or am I channeling David Carradine again?
Kung Fu aside M, I do hope this is helpful to you.
No doubt Ms LA will have something to say, no doubt she will…
Enjoy Monday and a little self confidence.
With love M
Miss Mich
Miss Mich has been reflecting on a conversation with her favourite Aide de Camp, Ms LA.
It appears one her closest confidants, we shall call her M, is struggling with a few curly issues of her own.
Aren’t we all Dear heart. Aren’t we all. Having the hard won experience she has, Miss Mich feels she is in a position to advise M of several key points she needs to keep in mind. These apply to us all Dear hearts, so stay with me...
In the great Zen Buddhist tradition, nothing lasts forever. Nothing is more true. Think of everything you have ever done, good or bad. Eventually it comes to an end. It is over. A bummer when it comes to great sex or a good book. Relief when it comes to the gynecologist or the magistrates court.
Leading on from that is Change. Totally Capital letter worthy. The net result of things coming to an end is Change. Despite what you may think at the time, change is the force that helps us to grow. Makes us look beyond ourselves. It can be brutal and give us no choice but to be adaptable and creative. It hurts, but let me tell you M, at the end of the day, you will look back and realise it was the Universe pointing you in the right direction.
Guilt. I don't want to hear about it. And yet, we all suffer from it. Guilt is the demon of religion, the most manipulative of the emotions. And used for evil by most Popes, Dictators and definitely Miss Mich's mother. But that is another story. For you Dear M, I urge you to stay away from that nasty piece of goods that is guilt. You are on a hiding to nowhere and guilt will not thank you for accommodating it's sorry arse. In the wise words of a bumper sticker I first saw in the 80's...Shit happens. And there is nothing you can do about it.Whether you caused it or it came to you, the best thing you can do is just get on with it and do the best you can without beating yourself up.
Which segue ways beautifully to love. Love thyself. Literally, if you have an appliance, and metaphorically if you still have a heart. It goes without saying that if you love and value yourself, then others will follow. If the opposite is how you treat yourself, then you can only expect the same in kind. Miss Mich's legal eagle made quite the point when he told MM in one of her dark moments, that it is because of who you are that people will either be kind or otherwise. Who you are is a direct reflection of how you see yourself.
Forgiveness. A tricky one I admit. Miss Mich struggles herself with a few choice players in her journey, but tries her best to turn the other cheek. Especially difficult when what she really wants to do is slap the opponents cheek...(MM refers herself to her previous tete e tete on work in progress...) Miss Mich’s anger management issues aside, I advise you M, to work on forgiveness. Forgive yourself first, obvi. Once you have done that you can move on and forgive others. It helps with acceptance and makes for a clear head and clean beginning.
The last little word of wisdom I have is Trust. Trust yourself and your belly. You know how Miss Mich feels about this. I feel it is particularly relevant here dear M. If we close our eyes and just feel, you will know the path to take. I now feel compelled to ask you to snatch the pebble from my hand and call you Grasshopper, or am I channeling David Carradine again?
Kung Fu aside M, I do hope this is helpful to you.
No doubt Ms LA will have something to say, no doubt she will…
Enjoy Monday and a little self confidence.
With love M
Miss Mich
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Breath
Dear hearts,
Breath.
I just love the sound of the word. I just love it. I can breathe it in, I can breathe it out.
It is totally Capital letter worthy. For without it, where are we? Blue perhaps. Breathless obvi. Swooning…Certainly without the spark of life.
All those gorgeous expressions. “every breath you take” take my breath away””hold your breath” “a breath of fresh air” “catch your breath” I could go on…
Breath heralds our entrance into and our departure from this life. That first breath, the last gasp. I have seen them both, and let me tell you Dear hearts, there is not much more powerful to witness. The first seems to come as an indignant wail and the last, a terrible surprise. Extraordinary.
Breath is seductive, don’t you think? Our breath quickens when we are expectant, frightened or aroused. It reveals our anticipation, along with our heart rate no doubt. But it is our breath that betrays us. In the dark, when there is only touch to navigate, breath becomes the compass that guides the hands. The little sighs, the sharp intake that says yes, or in some cases, the breath held and then released is the only way forward.
And then there are hiccups. Not as pleasing as a sneeze, which I always think of as natures baby o. A pleasant little interruption that takes me a moment to recover from, relaxes me and always makes me wish for more…Piglet understands. Back to hiccups. This is the breath out of sync. And just when you thought they had passed, one always catches you off guard, and off you go again. ..
As a child it was our game to hold our breath and swim the length of the pool under water. If you were bold, and it was the end of summer and you had practiced all holidays, it would be two lengths of the pool. I still love diving down and then slowly coming up to the surface watching the light and the sky from a watery, fluid perspective. Where you force your breath to wait as you linger in a world that is not your natural territory. If you linger too long you begin to see stars and your ear drums start to sing.
And then there is sharing breath. Not something one does with just anyone. For Miss Mich, she shared her breath with her babies of course. Nothing is sweeter than a baby’s milky breath and innocent smell. In Miss Mich’s former life, her white Arab Jordie had the sweetest green grass breath. Gelded late, Jordie had the attitude and build of a stallion. On the ground he was a lamb. Jump on his back and it became a battle of wills that ended up the compromise of faithful companion and not the show horse. I respected him for that to be honest. He followed me everywhere. 14 hands of faithful equine handsomeness. When the wind picked up, and he took off and we all had the devil in us, his tail streamed out behind him, his neck arched beautifully and he would toss his mane arrogantly. He had a terrible ego, but he was breathtakingly good looking..Miss Mich has found one actual boy with breath nearly as good as Jordie’s. A rare thing, Dear hearts, and as a result, precious.
Lastly, I leave you with the breath of the Tantra. The yoga breath. The breath that is circular. Used in sport, this will take your breath away, give it to your partner, who will in turn give it back to you so that you see the stars and the moon and all the little fishy’s and whatever it is that you see when you go…Miss Mich holds her breath and then when she lets go…she is gone…
Enjoy Wednesday.
With breathless love
Miss Mich
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Reason v Instinct...or Red or Green Frogs
Dear hearts,
Miss Mich has a very special relationship with her belly. The Bright Young Things filled it to the top (big babies all) for three consecutive years. It bears, even now, the lightning strikes of broken tissue where they grew and lolled around enjoying their time suspended. Sending out their signals to me with the occasional little foot or elbow waving just to say hello. It is very noisy, also, making its digestive presence felt at every turn of the clock, not just when it is empty.
My belly is an integral player on Miss Mich’s sporting team. Without those muscles the highs and little cries (and surprises) would be so much quieter. I have lost count as to how many times those little abs have taken the MVP award at the end of a long and boisterous event.
Just as importantly, Miss Mich’s belly is the home of her Instinct. The place where her impulse and intuition speaks the loudest (along with those gastric gurgles). If Miss Mich listens, the answers are there and invariably right. Notice I said if…
Sometimes Miss Mich gets sidetracked by Reason and dismisses the noises in her belly as mere cries for food…not consideration. This could be simply described as Head v Heart. Age old battle nest pas? Imagine the football game. Head would be green and have Pele as Captain. Heart would be red..obvi..and have as its errant Capitan George Best. I suspect David Beckham would be on the red team as well. He has great instinct and don’t get me started on his abs…just as long as he doesn’t open his mouth.
You see, Reason is getting in the way and distracting me by having me come to, and explain my conclusions. With my better friend Instinct, I would be already on my way to the TAB to put my money on red…
Reason has its place, Dear hearts. I am not suggesting it does not. Academically, as a noun, Reason is one of my absolute favourite Capital letter worthy subjects. If you subscribe to Kant, Reason is intellect personified. On paper I agree. Kant also puts forward the argument that God and Reason are one. Personally, I think that is a bit of a stretch. Without Reason we are without the ability to come to a logical conclusion. Reason and facts go together, that’s why lawyers love reason. I bet they love green frogs as well..
It’s a bit like the survey I have been loosely conducting. Red or Green Frogs? So much is revealed by your choice. Miss Mich, it goes without saying, is a red frog girl. Most of Miss Mich’s closest confidents are red frog people. I could even go as far as to say that I think twice about a green frog person. Are you sure? Would you like to think about it? …
Back to my belly. It could be described as many things. My inner compass steering the good ship MM. My internal water diviner…again, a bit of a stretch, but, you know.. go with the flow, trust your waters…Seriously though, if you look at the meaning of Instinct as described in the Concise Oxford: Innate propensity to certain seemingly rational acts performed without conscious intention. Or like Nike says: “Just do it”. It is I must confess my preferred way to navigate this life.
I have saved the most special service my belly provides me until last. The gift of warmth that is where love lives in me. It is a little spot in a secret space that radiates and spreads. I just need to listen and trust it.
I leave you with the wisdom of Mr Kenny Rogers.
Know when to hold ‘em
Know when to fold ‘em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run…
You can decide that Dear hearts by choosing to have the red or the green frog…
Enjoy the choice.
Love
Miss Mich
Miss Mich has a very special relationship with her belly. The Bright Young Things filled it to the top (big babies all) for three consecutive years. It bears, even now, the lightning strikes of broken tissue where they grew and lolled around enjoying their time suspended. Sending out their signals to me with the occasional little foot or elbow waving just to say hello. It is very noisy, also, making its digestive presence felt at every turn of the clock, not just when it is empty.
My belly is an integral player on Miss Mich’s sporting team. Without those muscles the highs and little cries (and surprises) would be so much quieter. I have lost count as to how many times those little abs have taken the MVP award at the end of a long and boisterous event.
Just as importantly, Miss Mich’s belly is the home of her Instinct. The place where her impulse and intuition speaks the loudest (along with those gastric gurgles). If Miss Mich listens, the answers are there and invariably right. Notice I said if…
Sometimes Miss Mich gets sidetracked by Reason and dismisses the noises in her belly as mere cries for food…not consideration. This could be simply described as Head v Heart. Age old battle nest pas? Imagine the football game. Head would be green and have Pele as Captain. Heart would be red..obvi..and have as its errant Capitan George Best. I suspect David Beckham would be on the red team as well. He has great instinct and don’t get me started on his abs…just as long as he doesn’t open his mouth.
You see, Reason is getting in the way and distracting me by having me come to, and explain my conclusions. With my better friend Instinct, I would be already on my way to the TAB to put my money on red…
Reason has its place, Dear hearts. I am not suggesting it does not. Academically, as a noun, Reason is one of my absolute favourite Capital letter worthy subjects. If you subscribe to Kant, Reason is intellect personified. On paper I agree. Kant also puts forward the argument that God and Reason are one. Personally, I think that is a bit of a stretch. Without Reason we are without the ability to come to a logical conclusion. Reason and facts go together, that’s why lawyers love reason. I bet they love green frogs as well..
It’s a bit like the survey I have been loosely conducting. Red or Green Frogs? So much is revealed by your choice. Miss Mich, it goes without saying, is a red frog girl. Most of Miss Mich’s closest confidents are red frog people. I could even go as far as to say that I think twice about a green frog person. Are you sure? Would you like to think about it? …
Back to my belly. It could be described as many things. My inner compass steering the good ship MM. My internal water diviner…again, a bit of a stretch, but, you know.. go with the flow, trust your waters…Seriously though, if you look at the meaning of Instinct as described in the Concise Oxford: Innate propensity to certain seemingly rational acts performed without conscious intention. Or like Nike says: “Just do it”. It is I must confess my preferred way to navigate this life.
I have saved the most special service my belly provides me until last. The gift of warmth that is where love lives in me. It is a little spot in a secret space that radiates and spreads. I just need to listen and trust it.
I leave you with the wisdom of Mr Kenny Rogers.
Know when to hold ‘em
Know when to fold ‘em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run…
You can decide that Dear hearts by choosing to have the red or the green frog…
Enjoy the choice.
Love
Miss Mich
Trinity Circle
Dear hearts,
Miss Mich loves living in the Cottage. We all know this. Earl Hill provides the loveliest sunrises and sunsets, the Sunbirds and butterflies. And the darling Wobbalies as the baby calls them. We watch the little families wander in from the rainforest each afternoon and graze on the lawns. We have seen the little joeys jump in and out of the female’s pouch, with legs overflowing and little ears twitching. The Buck likes to laze around and just watch the family, whilst the female does her mothering. Anyone could recognise the dynamics of the universal family structure. It is one of Miss Mich’s great delights to have all of this community going on around her.
Did I mention the snakes? The Big House was more than once home to various rainforest snakes. Apparently the Tree snakes are harmless. The Pythons, I’m not so sure. Despite being an urban girl from the harbourside suburbs of Sydney, Miss Mich did in fact deal rather well with these reptilian discoveries. BBQ tongs and gardening gloves dealt with the Tree snakes, after all, they were only a metre or so long - back to the rainforest with you. The Python that chose to shed its skin in the guest pavilion is one mother I would not like to have met. 2.4metres of scaly overcoat was left as a calling card to say thanks for having me. The fact that the eyes have a covering of film over them, even in the cast off skin, made the whole thing very spooky. Miss Mich felt as though the ghostly evil twin had been left behind.
Last night was a meeting of reptile and marsupial worlds that Miss Mich wishes had never occurred. There we were - the ABC, a fresh glass of white and yours truly. The Bright Young Things had decamped to Tinaroo for the Inaugral Tin Olympics, so it was a clean house and a quiet night of contemplation ahead.
Until there was this awful sound coming from the lawn of the cottage..
Miss Mich went out to discover the biggest, patterned kick arse snake wrapped around a little female wallaby. The Buck was busy being the protector he is and attempting to free his woman by beating the slimy interloper with his back legs, all the while emitting these extraordinary primal grunts. MM was of course, horrified.
After consultation via text, with the Libertine, it was clear there was little Miss Mich could do. The sweet girl, by this time, was dead, the snake still tightly coiled around her. The Buck took up position on the slope and with a menacing and dirge like rhythm, beat his tail against the ground. Miss Mich felt like she was on a battle ground. The Buck went in one more time to try and release his mate. So determined, so warrior like.
Miss Mich is aware she anthropomorphizing these animals to a ridiculously sentimental extent. But it was Saturday night and I was on my own. I was watching The Bill for Gods sake.
After making sure all was well in Sun Hill, Miss Mich went out for one final survey of the scene. The sentinel himself was still there watching over her. He stayed on point for some hours. Miss Mich roamed the house, not able to settle, and each time she looked over the balcony the reflection of his eyes caught her and let her know he was still there.
Miss Mich, when she did sleep, had strange and disturbing dreams of animals and pets. Past and present.
This morning shows me the little body on the drive.
I cannot say enjoy Sunday.
With Sadness
Miss Mich
Miss Mich loves living in the Cottage. We all know this. Earl Hill provides the loveliest sunrises and sunsets, the Sunbirds and butterflies. And the darling Wobbalies as the baby calls them. We watch the little families wander in from the rainforest each afternoon and graze on the lawns. We have seen the little joeys jump in and out of the female’s pouch, with legs overflowing and little ears twitching. The Buck likes to laze around and just watch the family, whilst the female does her mothering. Anyone could recognise the dynamics of the universal family structure. It is one of Miss Mich’s great delights to have all of this community going on around her.
Did I mention the snakes? The Big House was more than once home to various rainforest snakes. Apparently the Tree snakes are harmless. The Pythons, I’m not so sure. Despite being an urban girl from the harbourside suburbs of Sydney, Miss Mich did in fact deal rather well with these reptilian discoveries. BBQ tongs and gardening gloves dealt with the Tree snakes, after all, they were only a metre or so long - back to the rainforest with you. The Python that chose to shed its skin in the guest pavilion is one mother I would not like to have met. 2.4metres of scaly overcoat was left as a calling card to say thanks for having me. The fact that the eyes have a covering of film over them, even in the cast off skin, made the whole thing very spooky. Miss Mich felt as though the ghostly evil twin had been left behind.
Last night was a meeting of reptile and marsupial worlds that Miss Mich wishes had never occurred. There we were - the ABC, a fresh glass of white and yours truly. The Bright Young Things had decamped to Tinaroo for the Inaugral Tin Olympics, so it was a clean house and a quiet night of contemplation ahead.
Until there was this awful sound coming from the lawn of the cottage..
Miss Mich went out to discover the biggest, patterned kick arse snake wrapped around a little female wallaby. The Buck was busy being the protector he is and attempting to free his woman by beating the slimy interloper with his back legs, all the while emitting these extraordinary primal grunts. MM was of course, horrified.
After consultation via text, with the Libertine, it was clear there was little Miss Mich could do. The sweet girl, by this time, was dead, the snake still tightly coiled around her. The Buck took up position on the slope and with a menacing and dirge like rhythm, beat his tail against the ground. Miss Mich felt like she was on a battle ground. The Buck went in one more time to try and release his mate. So determined, so warrior like.
Miss Mich is aware she anthropomorphizing these animals to a ridiculously sentimental extent. But it was Saturday night and I was on my own. I was watching The Bill for Gods sake.
After making sure all was well in Sun Hill, Miss Mich went out for one final survey of the scene. The sentinel himself was still there watching over her. He stayed on point for some hours. Miss Mich roamed the house, not able to settle, and each time she looked over the balcony the reflection of his eyes caught her and let her know he was still there.
Miss Mich, when she did sleep, had strange and disturbing dreams of animals and pets. Past and present.
This morning shows me the little body on the drive.
I cannot say enjoy Sunday.
With Sadness
Miss Mich
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The Last Charm
Dear Hearts,
The last Charm. After this, we shall never have the need to refer to him again.
I have decided this is to be the last Charm. I am done with the need to have trinkets hanging off my wrist. I am putting the bracelet in the back of my underwear drawer with all of the very necessary experience that they have all afforded me. With gratitude and thanks.
Out of all the Charms, the last one has left the most visible mark. Good and not so good.
Melbourne Cup is a dangerous day to be out and about Dear hearts. The members’ marquee at Royal Randwick Racecourse provided the ideal opportunity to amuse oneself with Miss Mich’s best ever girlfriends and the movers and shakers of the Eastern suburbs. Clearly the last charm did what he does best and charmed his way onto one of the best and loosest tables by the winning post.
Miss Mich was perhaps touched a little by the sun despite her big picture hat and with the resounding endorsement of her darling friends was somewhat taken with the green eyes, black hair and olive skin. So began what can only be described as the making of Miss Mich. Good and not so good.
The attraction was good. Seriously good. The addiction of said charm to Miss Mich, in the end, was not.
Before it all went seriously south, things could not have been better. Miss Mich was feeling like a 16 year old, hanging out, laughing, playing pool (badly) and reacquainting herself with a certain Mary Jane and her fresh friend Marguerita. Then came Miss Mich. Seriously.
The move to the far far north is, along with the new tricks picked up on the way by far the best thing that has ever happened to MM. The Bright Young Things agree that indeed, we live in paradise.
Living in the Big House, as we have discussed, was sublime and Trinity Beach will forever be Miss Mich’s true spiritual home. “Her country”; to put it into the words of the traditional owners.
Make no mistake, Dear hearts, the Last Charm was fun to be with. He helped Miss Mich to channel her inner child. Helped her rediscover her cheeky side and sang and danced naked with her on the terrace under many a full moon. There were quite a few firsts with him, none of which we can speak of in polite company, but suffice to say that Miss Mich’s experience is broader and better as a result.
If only he had used his charm for good and not evil…
Certain liaison’s have a use by date. One should, in a grown up world, accept such a determination, remain civil if not friends, and carry on…The last charm had other ideas. He proceeded to make as much trouble for Miss Mich as he possibly could. Some of it was school boy stuff and some of it required legal intervention. All of it was at the least tiresome and at the worst, terrifying. Miss Mich is now quite adept at representing herself (along with a little Legal Eagle assistance) in the court room. She has her own personal detective on speed dial (just in case) and the local constabulary wave and exchange pleasantries on a first name basis as they cruise past the cottage just to make sure all is well.
You can imagine, then, why Miss Mich has decided to pop that bracelet away. Charms can be both whimsical and wicked. And not always in a good way.
Weighing it all up, Dear hearts, Miss Mich has the benefit of taking with her the tricks learned and making them even better. The last charm, as it has turned out, has just been a starting point…there is no limit to what one can achieve. Stay tuned…
Miss Mich now also has the confidence to make her own decisions, live on her own and choose if and when and more importantly, with whom she wishes to play. That is good.
We are all a work in progress, Dear hearts. Remember that. Good and not so good.
Enjoy Thursday.
With love
Miss Mich
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