Hello
I was chatting to a friend today about birthdays seeing as we were wrapping "lucky dip gifts" for the kids coming to our daughters' joint 8th party.
I mentioned that this year that I got so many messages on Facebook and most of the people who posted on my page I haven't seen in years. I hardly respond to their posts, they don't respond to mine and if I am honest (and if they are honest) probably ignore all the little titbits of information that don't make sense to anyone else but themselves.
So the thought occurred to me, are facebook birthday wishes sincere or are people just posting something on your page because a little block in the right hand corner reminds them that it's your birthday?
I am not saying it's a bad thing, I am merely questioning the sincerity of it. Am I being too sensitive here? I saw a quote recently (I probably shared it) that said something about people being in our lives for a specific time and then for whatever reason they are out of our lives. Is is necessary to refriend everyone of your high school classmates? Some of them I don't even remember, and I seriously doubt that anything I did keeps me vividly in their memories.
Don't get me wrong, there are a couple of people from high school with whom I am still friends and there are many of my "adult life friends" I haven't lost touch with, but we communicate in other ways, telephone, texts (SMS's for those in Africa) and those conversations are so much more meaningful.
You will notice here that I have not included family in my rant, and that's where social networking sites are totally awesome, in that I can see exactly what my family are up to and being so far away from them, it keeps them all closer in both my thoughts and my heart.
Anyway, I was pleased to see so many birthday wishes which just proves that whether they were sent sincerely or not, my ego got a great stroking and generally made for good day all round.
In love and light (and sincerity)
Tracey
Thursday 13 September 2012
Thursday 6 September 2012
Looking back.
If I am honest, I will admit to not having done much writing on my book. Initially I was very excited and got stuck in. Now, however it's fizzled down to nothing.
With Rob away it seems that there is just so much time, especially after the kids have gone to bed. So for the first time (in a while) I picked up a book and a pen and I started writing.
The writing begins as fiction and then moves swiftly into my memories. Due to a trauma as a child, most of my childhood memories are gone. A psychological safety net if you will. The "amnesia" keeps the subject (i.e Me) from developing serious psycological breakdown.
The problem is however that once the subject starts to remember the trauma, the cause is discovered, technically these are known as repressed memories, no other memories resurface.
So what I remember of my childhood has been the memories of others and photos provide a setting and backdrop to what sort of happened. This is great, yes, BUT the memories are the perceptions of someone else.
Trying to remember, what my life in high school was like was much easier.
I just want everyone to know that being invisible in high school is really easy.
It's sad really because I tried to stay that way. There was a time when I did not wish to be invisible and I did not feel invisible because I believed there was a group I fitted into, alas no, a very candid discussion with those involved reassured me that I did not belong.
I wish I could say that my first broken heart was the result of a careless, selfish teenage boy, but no that honour belongs to a couple of girls.
Thinking back it wasjust another painful event I buried deep inside, another event that has shaped who I am today.
I guess I am just writing for the sake of it now but I also feel I must share that only time after that, that I had a broken heart was when we lost Jonathan.
I know this has been about my pain, (hopefully without pity - that's not why I share it) but was it the pain or was it overcoming the pain that makes me who I am today?
In love and light (and deep contemplation)
Tracey
With Rob away it seems that there is just so much time, especially after the kids have gone to bed. So for the first time (in a while) I picked up a book and a pen and I started writing.
The writing begins as fiction and then moves swiftly into my memories. Due to a trauma as a child, most of my childhood memories are gone. A psychological safety net if you will. The "amnesia" keeps the subject (i.e Me) from developing serious psycological breakdown.
The problem is however that once the subject starts to remember the trauma, the cause is discovered, technically these are known as repressed memories, no other memories resurface.
So what I remember of my childhood has been the memories of others and photos provide a setting and backdrop to what sort of happened. This is great, yes, BUT the memories are the perceptions of someone else.
Trying to remember, what my life in high school was like was much easier.
I just want everyone to know that being invisible in high school is really easy.
It's sad really because I tried to stay that way. There was a time when I did not wish to be invisible and I did not feel invisible because I believed there was a group I fitted into, alas no, a very candid discussion with those involved reassured me that I did not belong.
I wish I could say that my first broken heart was the result of a careless, selfish teenage boy, but no that honour belongs to a couple of girls.
Thinking back it wasjust another painful event I buried deep inside, another event that has shaped who I am today.
I guess I am just writing for the sake of it now but I also feel I must share that only time after that, that I had a broken heart was when we lost Jonathan.
I know this has been about my pain, (hopefully without pity - that's not why I share it) but was it the pain or was it overcoming the pain that makes me who I am today?
In love and light (and deep contemplation)
Tracey
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