Flight to Miami Music Conference... Mmm

The cutting down of what was... my 'elegant' tree. Nothing lasts forever.

"You understand why I feel good..." were the lyrics to an Aretha Franklin song I was listening to, lying on a white rounded bed, on the rooftop of a villa with views stretching from the magnetic rocks of Es Vedra in the Mediterranean Sea to the islands on our left.  The sunsets here are magical. Then again, the sunset... anywhere... is magical.

In this new phase of my life, there was an element missing to help fulfil my wishes.  I would wake up every morning to meditate. However, before I knew it, I'd be checking messages on the Blackberry; followed by fresh lime, and honey in hot water before checking emails...  I tell you this modern computer technology has changed our lives - drastically! I'd grown up watching black and white TV, with no satellite or mobile phones... This just goes to show how quickly time seems to pass these days! 

To cut a long story short... (Or not!) It wasn't happening - until one day a couple of weeks ago. I'd been at home doing some paperwork when my good friend Troy dropped in for a light lunch. I went to fetch my phone from my bedroom when I noticed the tree, which had been the on-and-off focus of my meditations. I had watched it grow into the majestic beauty of a... what I would call an elegant tree... which now, was being taken down by four men in protective hats. The one climbing it was cutting the large branches skilfully with a large, power saw. 

The last time I meditated in front of this precious view of the tree, I had said my goodbyes. And now it was being taken away from sight, perhaps. But I can still see the tree standing in front of me, as though it had never left my sight.

After that episode was over, I was ready to leave for my meeting. As I was about to leave for my meeting... on time, for a change... My mobile phone rang with a familiar sound from the past. It was Janine calling me by mistake, dialling my name instead of the one below. I used to attend meditation and spiritual talks given by yogi leaders, at her place some ten years ago. When we both noticed what had happened, I told her: "Janine, you have no idea what your call means to me. You're my angel today."

"How are you Haldita? There's a talk this evening by our great yogi about 'Are you feeling good?' She said.
"Darling thank you. I won't be able to make it. In fact, I haven't been feeling too good. But it's only a few days since the antibiotics finished... Again... And I feel stronger than I've been in a while." I spoke with tears welling up in my eyes as I realised the reason she was calling me.

Her next question to me after asking about the family was: "Are you meditating?"
Wow... I thought. "Darling, you just said the most meaningful thing that anyone could have said to me right now... Meditating. That is the only element missing in my life to help me through the next phase. No. I haven't been recently, but I am definitely starting tomorrow. Thank you... thank you."
Janine went on: "Start with 5 minutes my dear. You don't need to think 20 minutes."

And hence, I began again my meditation which without having to go through much detail, simply helps me to feel better and make more productive moves towards my future and get closer to turning my dreams into reality.

Now let's go back to company... to good companions, great ones and amazing ones! My recent friendships have all started in the most unlikely places! When we live a free life and let destiny take its course and let our sense of adventure and love of life take us where it pleases: follow some; let others follow you; let connections with people of any age, race, colour or religion become as easy as one, two, three. It is from these encounters that we learn to grow in spirit.

I met Lola through a good, mutual friend some four years ago. We connected from the first moment we met. She was young, statuesque and seemed very enthusiastic about the positive changes to be made by humankind. After spending some time together and getting better acquainted, she kindly invited me to join her and two other friends on an adventure.

We all met at the airport having missed our first flight. And so we boarded the next plane where our adventure began.

We had not taken any notice of the seat numbers seeing as they were the last tickets on that flight and we were happy enough just to be getting on board. As we stepped onto the aeroplane, my seat was on the first row, next to a fit, young Frenchman: Pierre. Lola and Hanna, wild and funky, were seated directly behind me. While Sharon, friendly and full of life, was recovering from previous nights out and sat happily in a row further down. They were all some years my junior. We were all from different parts of the world and yet we bonded as sisters going on a trip that would be fresh in our minds every time we each think about it.

Pierre seemed very pleased to see me, smiling down at him waving that boarding pass in my right hand as I said facing him: "And I believe that's my seat."
"Hello," Was Pierre's response with a naughty smile.
Good start, I thought.
So I settled into my seat next to him and continued: "Vous êtes français alors?"
"You guessed well and you speak with such a good accent." Was his reply.
Such a French charmer were my thoughts and I love it. When we are younger, a guy who pays us compliments is a 'bullshitter'. But as we get older, a compliment is lovely to hear.  Why not let someone tell you something that would make you feel good about yourself?  
I always say... Darling, if this is bullshit, then by all means, carry on! Haha

The plane was delayed by two hours which allowed Pierre and I to connect rapidly whilst ordering champagne and drinking it like grape juice.

Every now and then I looked back to see how the girls were doing, they must have heard our laughter from the front, as Hanna would direct her look towards Pierre's seat as if to say: "He's fit." And they would both be telling me: "You bitch... It had to be you sitting next to him. Could have been any one of us!" As we all laughed, I raised an eyebrow.

"C'est la vie, I guess." Was my response.

The aeroplane finally took off, by which time Pierre and I had become best buddies and we were flirting and having a whale of a time. At one point, after the lights had been dimmed I opened my eyes to see... well, I had just woken up... Pierre facing me quite closely while holding hands!! I pulled back in surprise and let go of his hand, only to remember how the first few hours of that journey had begun. I couldn't help but laugh at myself... yep again! How wonderful life can be... Actually, life is beautiful and it is all about those special moments spent with fun company. Aretha rocks!

Now... That was just the beginning of this story! Next came the waiting in customs at our port of arrival where two of us got held back for questioning... Now even that turned out to be funny! Till we meet again... Nite nite! And may our love be spread with each step we take.

The photos of Es Vedra, by day and by sunset and the islands from afar.

Politics... My way!

It must have been four years after my separation that I was invited to a Conservative cocktail party in the garden of a house by Regents Park. The invitation was from Ingrid, a half-English, half-Swedish girl I had met one-night dancing at Momo's club. Roughly a year after we'd first met (and a few nights out) she became active in politics and kindly invited me to a few events together with her girlfriends - all tall, blonde and fun.

Feeling fabulous and a little high on that spring afternoon (high on life) I entered the garden from the drawing room, dressed in a pink and black lacey, beaded skirt, a tiny black top which revealed a tanned cleavage; a black suede, open coat; and black, high heels of course! Around thirty people were standing in groups talking, with their wine glasses in hand.

As it was, most of the women were dressed in their casual yet conservative country style. But I didn't let that worry me. Ingrid appeared with a smile to greet me and started introducing me to people whose names I promptly forgot (I have a terrible memory for names... and I mean truly bad). Across the garden, I noticed a rather good-looking man of about forty, in his suit and cravat like everyone else. He was talking to another man.  Having shaken enough hands, I nudged Ingrid to introduce me to them.

"Mark," she got his attention. "This is Haldita."
"And this is James," she introduced, leaving us to attend to other guests.
Now, Mark, who I had noticed earlier, as we exchanged looks across the many heads, started with the 'let's get the first initial questions out of the way' etiquette and as we were getting better acquainted, James turned to Mark and interrupted by continuing their initial conversation on football!
I listened for a couple of minutes before making my way to talk to an older gentleman, who had visited my country. I expressed my disappointment at people's habit of judging nations by their leaders and wrong-doings. Of course, the media does not help with broadcasts that portray constant wars and acts of injustice. Why is it that good news doesn't sell?

Politics makes me sad so I diverted my attention to notice that Mark was looking my way and he seemed to have had enough football talk. I started to make my way towards the door, saying my goodbyes, and noticing him do the same. Without saying a word, it seemed we had similar intentions of leaving at the same time.

As I made my way out through the long corridor, he joined me.
"So what was the score?" I said with a laugh.
"Yes, I've had my share of football for one night." He smiled.
"Where do you live?" I went on as we were leaving the house.
"In Belgravia," he seemed surprised at my question.
"Are you driving?" there was a purpose to that question, obviously.
"No, I came by cab," Mark answered, puzzled. 
"I live nearby and feel like driving." I continued. "Would you like a lift?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you." Of course, he did not mean that.
"No bother. I'm parked across the road. Get in." 
 My friends don't call me a cabbie for nothing!

As we sat in my car, I had to turn down my blaring music and lit up a joint. He looked at me in total surprise!
"And what is that?" he exclaimed.
"Well, it's not a roll-up for sure." I laughed again.
I dropped Mark at his door. We exchanged telephone numbers and went our separate ways.

Two weeks or so passed when one afternoon I was going through the numbers on my mobile that I came across... Mark. Mmmm, a text.
"So Mark. Did you take my number to add to your collection? Or... ?" I texted.
He answered back and asked to meet for a drink at a gastro pub in Chelsea. It was all quite amusing how we met and he kept insisting on opening a school where I would teach women the art of flirting!
"Moi... A teacher of... What exactly? Besides, if this is flirting I do, then I flirt with children, with animals. Surely, this is simply being friendly!" Was my answer, totally flirting with him through the eyes."
"Besides," I went on... "This is part of our culture."
We had a pleasant time and a few laughs but my mother had told me many years ago that good-looking guys with a little attitude are usually not very good at sex!
So we left it at that.

The best time I had was going to the next event, a ball, with the taxi driver taking me there.
As usual, I was running late. The card read drinks at 7.30pm and dinner promptly at 8pm. I jumped in the shower at 7.30 and left my flat at 7.50 pm with wet curly hair and another not-so-conservative outfit!
I hailed a cab and begged him for the fastest route as I was very late.

"So what time do you have to be there?"  Asked Dan the cabby.
I always make sure I ask people's names when I meet them and that is almost everybody, only to forget it two seconds later! But I try.
"Dinner starts at 8 promptly," I answered. "You could say I'm a little late!" I giggled at the back.
"You don't look like someone going to a political dinner party." He said with a laugh.
"Frankly, I haven't got a clue why I'm going." I thought aloud. "Got invited and thought why not! It's good to have different experiences in life... I guess."
"You seem like a fun lady," Dan carried on. "Forget about the dinner, I can take you to some really fun, cool places instead. What do you say?"
I was laughing only because I found his offer quite tempting. Not that I would have taken it up but I am sure he was right. He went on to confess to being married with two kids! Cute but definitely No.
He still managed to write his mobile no on a piece of paper and handed it to me in case I got bored at the dinner.

I rushed into the dining hall and was ever so pleased to find out that they were just about to sit down.
More introductions and to my surprise, David Cameron came to talk at a stand near where I was sitting. The best part of his speech, I thought, was when he told his wife one night in bed, whether she realised she was married to a man charting the top 100 sexiest men?
Do you know what is terrible?? I can't remember what her answer was! But it sounded cool!

And this is as close as I have got to politics!

The Question of the Existence of God...

This is supposed to be a free world we live in... I did say supposed to be... At least within us. We all have the right to have a point of view on everything going on around us.

There are those who are devoted to religion. Others are atheists. We each have our reasons for that.  

One evening, some years ago, we were discussing the existence of God with my mother, Angel and the Ex. My mum, who'd noticed me taking a long breath, said: "Darling, with each long breath you take, make sure you thank The Lord for your blessings." Then, surprisingly she went on to ask: "How can we accept God when there is famine, misery and so much injustice going on around us? Why is God not helping these people?"  

My immediate answer was: "I've always lived with God, laughed with him and cried with him. Now, when there's that feeling of being safe, knowing that He's looking over me, loving me and helping me find my path through the ups and downs life throws at us, then why not? Why take that wonderful, heart-warming feeling away from me? The world would seem awfully cold and meaningless, otherwise. And it is as simple as that. There is definitely an energy out there, which I can feel deeply, giving me a positive attitude towards any situation. I have the choice to make the changes and so, I choose to believe in Him. A mother's despair in Africa, not being able to feed her child with even her own milk for lack of nourishment, is a sense I'm not aware of in any way. My sadness about people dying of hunger and everything else that goes on around us in this world, I have no answers to. But at least, I can be grateful for my life."  

Angel nodded in agreement with the simplicity of my answer.

I would love to share a story with you about my realisation that miracles do happen to us daily.
They do not all have to be about parting the seas as Moses did.

Let me continue...

It was during one of the workshops with my therapist and a group of twelve, that I recall clearly telling everyone about this miracle.  

I had arranged to see a psychic who could see spirits. I should say that I did stop going to fortune tellers and psychics later when I realised that, if they were to predict a good happening, I would rather wait and find out with the excitement of the unknown. And, if they want to say something unfortunate, then I sure don't want to waste my time worrying about it before it takes place. In any case, if they were so good, why is it they don't sort out their own lives? 

Driving to the psychic, when parking my car, I kept thinking that my grandfather was waiting for me in spirit as he had passed away years before. But the feeling was so strong in me that I rushed to the place and was directed to a door. I entered, after knocking, to see a frail, older lady looking towards me with a smile. She said immediately: "My dear, your grandfather has been here waiting for you!"

I rushed to the seat opposite her with no hint of surprise. "I know he is."

She went on to say: "He's looking after you and no harm shall come to you physically."

I soon became oblivious to the rest of the things she went on to say. It all went right over my head. I did not want to hear any more. It made my heart warm with my thoughts drawn to the gentle and kind man that he was. So loving.

This was during the time my grandmother had a stroke, back at home. So, I decided to visit my family with my children. It was only after long arguments with my husband, who did not approve of me taking the kids, that I packed our bags and went 'home' with them for two weeks, against his wishes.

My mother was looking after my grandmother who was half paralysed, lying on a bed in my grandfather's library where he'd welcomed many literary people in his day. As soon as we arrived I could feel her joyful spirit, despite what was going on. It made us smile to feel the warmth of all the love that surrounded us. My grandmother, Serene, was so happy to see us. She smiled and hugged us each with open arms - as much as her limited movement would allow. The woman who'd worked in their house for forty years made us laugh with her special sense of humour. She was part of the family and was always ready to make jokes or imitate grandma's friends in front of them, which no one took to heart.

My mother always had such a positive attitude towards life. Every time anyone asks her how she is, Angel answers: "I'm feeling wonderful. Fantastic. You?"

One day, she told me to get the children ready and take them to a friend's country house, where we could all go for a swim in a fresh spring-watered pool. We eventually got to the place, making it through rough, bumpy roads. My mother drove us in her old automobile which was almost falling apart. We just made it to the house with steam pouring out from under the bonnet.

There was an old-style house on the right of the vast plot. Then a few stairs on the left took us through a stone arch to a swimming pool with a concrete surround and wildflowers growing all around it. The water was dark, fed by a natural spring which flowed down from a higher level on the right side. The children were delighted and we all jumped into the pool to enjoy our swim in the blazing sunshine.

There was something very spiritual about the scenery. All we could hear was the sound of the water flowing into the pool and the birds singing all around us. On the far side, we could see two hills. It was like a scene from the series 'High Chaparral'.  "Are the Red Indians going to appear from behind those deserted hills?' I asked myself. We were floating in the water in absolute serenity when I started telling my mother about the experience I had at the psychic's back in London. She let out a sigh, going through her thoughts of what I can only imagine was her dear father.

After our swim, I told my children to climb the small hill and go under the waterfall-like spring where I could wash their hair. I had brought shampoo with me... Honestly, the marvels of motherhood! You think of everything! At that moment, my mother got out of the pool and went to the top of the hill close to us and I asked if she could hand me my Girl's flip-flops. But before she moved, it was as though a force had picked her up and thrown her off the small cliff. I watched as she rolled down the stoney hill in total shock without being able to do a thing. She stopped, lying with her back on the risen cement where the water went through to enter the pool. Then got up and climbed up again before I could utter a word.

At that precise moment, I felt my grandfather's spirit there with us and she went on to say with childlike excitement: "My father was here. He just held me."
"I know," I cried, "I felt him."

We both cried and held each other without any further words, knowing that he was certainly there with us in spirit.

Our stay with my family lasted one week and sadly, that was the last time I saw my gentle, sweet grandmother - Serene. She is resting in peace I am sure. Amongst many lessons, she taught me was how to be hospitable. One evening when we all sat at dinner, a family of five; Grandma's friends, rang the doorbell. Serene smiled and went on to greet them in her usual kind manner, asking for some chairs and plates to be added to the dining table and insisting they had to join us to eat. Now, living in London for so long, where everyone has to call and make appointments to meet even close friends, days or weeks ahead, this seemed rather unexpected. Later, I found Serene in the kitchen and asked her innocently: "Grandma, don't people call before they knock at your door?"

She smiled and with her hand waving in the air, answered gently: "Darling you and your Western ways. Please save me that. This is God's home, an open house. Everyone's welcome here. Any time."  

And that was how we were raised. As the Spanish say...  Mi casa, tu casa. My home is yours.

Their house had so much spirit and my mother is now living there with great joy.    

I keep drifting from my stories... That's me! haha...

So, on the way coming back to the capital after our stay with grandma, we spent a few days with my brother Soltan, before flying back to London. As we were on the aeroplane coming back, I looked up at the perfectly blue sky and started my conversation with God.  

"Dear Lord, don't let my grandma suffer."  

Something came over me and my naughty side rose so I continued on: "How about, Dear Lord, you show me a miracle to say you are here for me? Let's see now..."

Great. Knowing that it almost never rains here in the summer. Especially as we are right in the midst of it now... "How about you show me some rain tomorrow afternoon."

Then I giggled, still looking up towards the sky and said: "God, I was just kidding. I have all the blessings in my life. Let's just forget what I said. You know I can be a little crazy at times."

We landed and I forgot about my silly miracle request, which would be a real miracle if it happened. Was I out of my mind asking such a request? Sure, wha'ever! God knows me, I don't have to explain further.

However...  yep... However, I got my swimsuit on and while the children were playing somewhere in the building with the neighbours' kids, I went to lie by the pool for more suntan! Looking up at the clear blue sky with the temperature rising to almost forty degrees, I almost spilt the bottle of Hawaiin Tropic oil all over my skin and lay there on a towel on the ground. Some time passed before I started to feel a few drops of water on me. With wide-open eyes, I could see a few splashes of rain all over the pool. The thought of my plea the day before hit me.

It cannot be... It must have been the few puffs from a joint I had before! I thought. So I ignored the signs and went on sunbathing. It all stopped within a few short minutes. 

Soltan came along and mentioned lunch at Dad's the following day. As he was standing above me and I was sitting on the ground looking up at his face with a hand above my eyes to protect them against the scorching sun, I saw behind him in the sky, clouds approaching fast above us and to my disbelief, it started raining again. This time it was stronger. My brother stopped and looked up to say: "What? Is it actually raining?!?"

By then, my tearful eyes and my staring gaze at the sky, to God, took my brother's notice.

I was crying. He asked what was wrong and all I could say was: "Soltan, even if I told you, you're not gonna believe this."  And went on to tell him of my request.  

"Wow...  You're freaking me out, sis. I'm going in."  He said, knowing very well that miracles do happen.  

I felt the rain on my body and in my soul. It was pouring down and there must have been the biggest smile of gratitude on my face. It stopped after a few minutes and I went in.  My friend Maha called on the landline shortly afterwards to arrange dinner. Before saying goodbye, it occurred to me to ask if she had seen the rain. After all, she only lived a few minutes away and this was not usual.

"Rain?  She asked as though I had asked if she had spotted a flying carpet. "No." She replied coldly.

"That's fine," I said.  

Obviously, the rain was for my eyes to see and for my soul to feel loved and protected. Thank you, Universe for that experience. This was where I noticed miracles can come to us large or small. Whenever something makes me smile, it surprises me: those unexpected times when I bump into someone special who I haven't seen in a long time; that beautiful butterfly touching the tip of a flower. These are the miracles of life. After all, how can a tiny whirly sperm, from the action of two humans' bedding, develop into a complex human being? With all of our intricacies, and more abstruse than any computer could possibly build, surely, there must be 'A Creator' to all this? 

We are the miracles of God.

On that note...  

"Go to bed girl," I keep telling myself. Between my long hours of dancing this weekend and working on a project... The wonderful dinner party on Sunday, the trainer this morning and the short sleeping hours, it is a pure passion that has me writing this blog... 
I'm Exhausted!  

God Bless you All.

It is never too late!

The first self-development course I attended was at 'Landmark Forum' where I put my hand up to answer the coach on why it was important for me to be there. This was on the first day, with an attendance of two hundred and eighty people in the room. At the end of my talk on the microphone, people came up to me and told me it took courage to stand up and talk about my life; and how they could relate to my story.

It was as my mother had told me, everyone had some issue they needed to resolve. Whilst I thought that, by standing up and pouring my heart out, I was worried that so many people would begin to judge. God knows I did not want to make my husband look bad, although they had no clue as to who he was, this was about me getting to a higher state of happiness in my life.

Yet, by the second day, during lunchtime when we went to discuss the tasks set out by the coach, I realised barely anyone remembered my story! And yet there I was going through a roller-coaster of emotions, feeling almost guilty. It is amazing how issues we consider too important to be talked about can be of little real interest to anyone else. So why?  Why live life according to what is dictated to us by others' expectations, as opposed to living freely with a kind heart.
Go beyond your limits... It is incredible how our body and mind adapt to our new way.

If there is anything that bothers you, don't sit sulking. Think of plans B and C. Make the changes necessary to be happy.  I look around me, at a world where there can be a mother in Africa who is incapable of feeding her newborn due to lack of nutrition... Now that is a problem. Is there a problem in my life that cannot be solved one way or another? Not really. It has been my faith in God and his love and mercy, that have seen me through the difficult times to where I am now.

There were times in my marriage when I would crawl into a corner of the bathroom and pray to God: "But why? Why am I going through such hard times? Why don't you kill me, dear Lord. I don't know if I can take this misery any longer. But then, please don't think me ungrateful. I do know there's a reason why I'm going through this, you would not have me suffer like this unless there was a big lesson to be learned. I have every faith in you and I accept my destiny."

Truly in my heart, I believe we are here to learn. Then a bit like graduation day, either we have achieved the necessary grade and get our reward or we decide to opt-out and continue with our internal suffering.

Those times are well over now. I hope that I did learn my lessons in life well and continue to learn each and every day. I want to be free of the chitter-chatter in my mind which stops me from following my dreams.

Then came the second course I'd enrolled in because of the insights I'd gained from the first one. It ran for fourteen hours each day, from 9:00am to 23:30pm four days in a row.  This time we had a lady speaker who was petite in size but boy did she have such power in her presence.

Through her talks, I decided to stop reading newspapers and watching the news. I realised how it put me down to see that even in the 21st Century, in spite of all the modern technology that is available to us, we humans are small-minded enough to create wars and have our people killed. The greed of mankind is limitless! And all the rest of the sad news upsets me to the point of madness. Why can we not put to better use some of the funds we use to destroy ourselves and simply help each other towards a kinder and friendlier world?  

We kill chickens, cows, sheep, fish and so many other animals to feed ourselves yet there are activists who throw paint at women for wearing mink coats? Have your say, sure, and make people aware of how animals suffer to make that coat but, surely, going beyond that is a violation of someone else's rights?

On that particular course, we had to write down all the things that we had been moaning about and then sit in pairs repeating them over and over again, until we ourselves, got sick of hearing our voices complain. There were also physical exercises. Now, there was a gentleman of eighty-five years of age. Let me put this down in figures... Yes, 85, who joined in with the other eighty people in the group, and always with a smile. I observed him thinking, how amazing that at any age, we can learn and have hope in changing our ways and moving onto greener pastures; a better life!
It really is never too late. There is always time for improvement.

The other major lesson was to repeat: "I shall be impeccable with my words."
If I am honest with myself, there is no reason for not being so with everyone I meet.
Why lie? My line is "I don't do bullshit!"  Simple. People have a tendency to make their own judgement anyway according to how they feel inside.
Francois, my therapist, used to tell me that everyone has their own map. We each see things inside our maps - what we have been taught; and learn from others' impacts and the places we have visited and so on. 

Many years ago, before I separated, we went to dinner with three good girlfriends. Afterwards, we decided to play a game. Let us say the best and worst things we feel about each other. Oh oh... Now that was probably not the best game to play. Although one of us who I must add was more sensible opted out of the game, saying: "You are mad.  What kind of game is that?"

One of my friends said I was superficial. Frankly, it was a shock to me and I am not one to get easily upset by criticism. Goodness knows I've had enough of that in my life.  However, I really wanted to find out why my friend thought that of me. Could it be she felt that way about herself? And I am truly fond of this friend and I know (or looking back, I hoped) she felt the same way towards me. Sometimes we say things because of the way we feel inside. Like when we feel radiant and good; when we are in love; when everything is going our way; how we see good in everyone, too. Words can be so important and yet, we can say things which we don't mean because we are not feeling good inside. So they must be taken in context.

During the last years of marriage, I became stronger and decided that we could do with breaks from each other on trips with friends. As my sister, Hala, spent winters in the Caribbean I used to go visit her for two weeks of sunshine and sandy beaches. She had made lots of friends, mostly fab gay friends. The first time I went, we had dinner at Diba's, whose villa we stayed in and who happens to be one of the most amazing women I have met; a true lady at heart and in manners, after which, we decided to go to the only cool bar on the island at the time; The Love Shack.  This was a hut in the middle of a parking lot. It was drizzling that night and we parked next to the place and ran into the open hut. It was Hala and her boyfriend, me and six gay friends. All great fun. I was wearing cream-fitted trousers with a lacey cream top. The music was playing so after the drinking at dinner, we emerged onto the dance floor. Tommy, a tall, thin American blonde who was an absolutely adorable queen with the greatest sense of humour, took my hand and we did the rock and roll as we turned and twisted. Then he put his hand on my back and said: "Honey, dip!"

I wasn't sure what he meant so looked puzzled. He continued on: "Honey, dip, dip." And his head nodding, made me understand that he wanted me to go back with my head, resting on his hand behind me. But, not quite realising that he would not be able to hold onto me, I went right back with one leg up, hoping he could support my weight!
The next thing I knew, I'd fallen right into the mud in my cream outfit with Tommy lying on top of me!

He got up and I looked up at the rest of the boys and my sister's open mouth. I couldn't stop roaring with laughter, lying on my back in the mud.  All five pairs of hands came to my rescue and Tommy turned around and said: "Honey I said dip, not drop!"
That trip was the beginning of a great friendship to continue with Elliot and Pauly.

I hope you are smiling now... Take that smile with you everywhere you go and share it freely.

Let us love with our hearts... not our minds

There is nothing more precious than good friends, they can be your children, your family and those who you bring into your lives as your chosen family. They love and accept us the way we are and encourage us in every venture we embrace. And we can talk of the great times we have spent together, laughing aloud as we remember all those fulfilling moments.

You see... We label people. I never asked Steve what he did. He had mentioned filming some rallies and documentaries. We got on fine and had a good laugh every time we met. He was fun and friendly to everyone around him. So what if he made some porn as well? Why should that have made a difference? It was exciting to see him once every 3 to 4 weeks and he taught me one or two tricks that were all part of new experiences for me. Outdoor sex for one!

There we go...  I can't believe it's me writing this.

Sometimes the angels come to us to open up our souls and it is good to share experiences.  Sharing is caring!
Steve would call me spontaneously at some hour of the day or night and I would swiftly disappear from a previous dinner to meet him at some private bar where we would flirt and let the night begin.

One afternoon, when I was working, I went to one of the big stores and finished ordering some special crockery. All of a sudden my mobile's tone (which has changed over the years) indicated a new text message.

"What are you up to?" Steve asked.
"At the lingerie department... Checking out the stockings. You?" I answered.
"Just finished work. How about meeting up after your shopping?" He wrote.
"Brilliant," Was my answer.

I treated myself to some lacy burlesque top, a stocking holder and stockings of course.
I rushed home only to realise the beeper on the stocking holder had not been removed and it had not beeped when I passed the doors of the store to leave.

"Grrrrrrrreat!"  I thought.

So I sat on my bed trying to untangle it with scissors, then a sharp knife when I noticed...  Ooops! A red blood-like liquid seemed to have spilt out of the beeper onto the white silk lingerie I was wearing.

"Hahaha,"  I could not stop laughing at myself.
"Only you Haldita... Only you!"  I thought.

The time was getting short before my lover's arrival and my dress code had to change, immediately. Oh well... My heart was pumping before any action began! 

Can I just say thank you for all the love and support of my loving friends who are giving me the courage to go on... I am blessed

Breathe the fire of Passion into all that you do

Did you read... But I really meant 'grasp' the meaning of the words in the title?

Passion has been burning like a fire in me... Passion in what? In life, living and loving.  
I have travelled the world to meet up with old friends and make new ones. And it has all come from the love I have been blessed to have received from my super cool, amazing mother; Angel (that is her name) who has managed to make her own rules of feeling happy and making everyone around her feel good about themselves and give love freely.
She came from very loving parents who have played large roles in my life, about simply being humble and human towards my fellow beings. I shall be going back through time, into those fond childhood memories in a country that was booming at the time I was growing up. To remember all the people who touched my life throughout and who I wanted to learn from.

My dear father's presence (he passed away recently) is something I still feel all around me. He appears every time I think of him. How wonderful is that? So, he is there to protect and direct me.
My sister Hala, whom I have loved dearly as my lifelong friend and a fun partner. Romana at the bar in fabric club calls us; 'The Criminal Sisters!'
And my darling brother, Soltan who has always given me his love and support.
The list is too long. These people were the forces that influenced me during childhood. 
There are so many more who touched my life, as I progressed through life's ups and downs. I am absolutely grateful to all of them and they will be mentioned in due course. 

Now to get back to passion...
Everything and everyone in life touches you one way or another, it makes you think. All those whys and hows, ifs and oops. Whether good or bad, they have an impact on our lives. However large or small, it affects our behaviour from one year to the next.  

When I feel hurt or upset about anything now, all I do is reflect on how would I feel about this matter in an hour? In one week? One month? Five years down the line? Now, is it worth it to waste the precious moments we are alive on something that would eventually become almost meaningless? Let me instead, make good use or even better... great use of my time on earth and think of something that would make me happy. Or even get up and do something that would bring joy into my life. I feel passionate about the fact that we are all here to learn. I can forgive easily and understand that we all come from different backgrounds. The space that negative thought has occupied in my brain can be filled with positive, good vibes and help me smile and say: "Thank you, God. I'm happy and alive."

With positive thoughts, I can go ahead, be brave and do absolutely anything I please because I know deep in my heart, it comes from a good place. We all deserve to be happy.  It is whether we feel passionate enough to cherish that... Or stay in the miserable state we feel we are in and... yes... And feel sorry for ourselves. No one can achieve our goals and walk our path. It is all up to ME.

On that note... while at Dez' (my hairdresser's) this afternoon, having been his last client, darling Crissy joined us. The three of us stood in the street having a little smoke and talked about our weekend plans. Dez reminded me of a story from a couple of years ago. So before I get ready to go out to dinner with a group of adorable friends, I thought I'd end this with yet another naughty story! Why not!

My daughter who has been pure joy and love to me since the day she was born, was spending her gap year in Rome. On one of my visits, I had also arranged to meet up with my wonderful gay friends (and a girl can never have enough of those) Elliot from NY, for our annual rendezvous.

Being a shopaholic... yap... like most girls you might say... after all, I am a woman through and through! The two of us went walking through town and while passing the Prada shop, we both had our eyes fixed on a pair of pink stilettos which featured a scallop design on the sides. They were displayed high, at eye level. We gave each other one of those naughty smiles and nodded our heads towards the door to the shop.
"Darling, you must have those!" said, Elliot.
"And how... I totally must." I agreed.
The shoe size was only a tiny bit too big which can be fixed and I wore them with my red nail varnish which looked fab! So the stilettos became yet another addition to many possessions boxed up in my wardrobe. They were not easy to walk in... But hey... Life ain't easy!

We had an amazing time in Roma with another couple; friends who'd joined from London before heading back to our home cities. 

Two weeks later, when Elliot had called to get an update on... well, on everything!  He suddenly asked: "By the way Darling... Did you get to wear those pink Prada stilettos?"
"Oh yes my love," I replied. "Twice... In bed!"

With that line to finish, I will let your imagination take you wherever it may please...   Haha

Live and Let Live...

As I write this, I'm realising a lot of things.
After all this time wanting to write, what had been stopping me before?
The answers are all coming to me. In life, timing is the most essential factor for us in order to evolve in the true sense. We ask questions like "Why are so many people suffering in this world?" and "Why is life so unfair?"  And most of the time, the answers are not always right in front of us.

It may sound 'unfair' at times... It is not.  But we have to grasp the reality of each of our lives as it comes.
We have to learn to take responsibility for our lives and the outcomes of our actions.  That is all we can do. Hopefully, with each choice, we can bring happiness, however large or small, to ourselves and the people around us.

I was told Ramadan has started and it was no surprise when my friend Robby and I found ourselves chatting. Yet another long telephone conversation! Going through a confessional moment, I said: "You know what I've decided to do starting today? I only wish to speak well of people and that is everyone. Unless there's something loving to be said, there shall be nothing else to say. It's so much lighter on the conscience and such a good feeling inside when you remember someone with good thoughts and deeds.  The rest is irrelevant."

Robby then mentioned that apparently, this is the custom during Ramadan. You fast not only with your food but with your thoughts and words as well. How appropriate that this should be an everyday ritual for as long as we live. It is like when I am having a good time, people have asked if it was my birthday. This has happened on several occasions.  My answer is: "Darling, every day is my birthday, Valentine's Day and New Year!"

It has now become clear to me why it took so long to put my fingers on the keyboard of my laptop (or as we would have said "pen on paper", years before the computer age!) and write what has been going through my mind and all the learning, life has taught me. This is not about making anyone wrong. We all behave in different ways when faced with difficult situations. How could I know myself completely when I truly had no idea how I would respond to a situation beyond my control or experience? 

I am now in good relations with my Ex. Forgive and let the past swiftly be taken away with the flow of the river. Let go of the baggage and let your spirit free, your hair down and go with the flow. With the excitement of all those heavy burdens placed aside, positive and happy thoughts can flow. See how liberating that is? Take a long walk in a park... in the woods, the mountains or a beach and think 'real'. Look up at the vast sky above with its offering of infinite blue; the sun, moon and clouds; and its every mood. Feel God around you or any wonderful feeling you have, please. Smile and say "Thank you!" 

Be grateful for what you have today, now, rather than the things that might make you happy one day... if... 

My Ex happens to be a good man, a great father and will always be in my prayers so I write about him with love and respect. Just because two people cannot get along living together - which, let's face it is not an easy task - does not make either of them bad.

After separation...

Shortly, to be exact about four months afterwards, I was out again with Hala at a private club where we met up with a French lady called Louisa. She reminded me of a white Grace Jones both in physique and voice. It was then I also realised how, in years to come, I would love strong women who took charge of their destiny and could not care less what anyone said about them. So Grace Jones had always been an idol to me. Anyway, Louisa was meeting her friend Adam who was a tall, handsome Anglo-African. We started talking and all decided to go to another new private bar, which had just opened close to Piccadilly. We all left in a cab and met with Steve; Adam's friend. Steve was English, not very tall, nor the type you would automatically get drawn to. They talked amongst themselves while we went to check out the other rooms at this new place.

Since there was no music and we were accustomed to ending the night dancing, we decided to leave.
Steve, who did not seem to have noticed us before, offered to take us to yet another venue, with music!
So, another taxi ride to Park Lane and we got in to dance. As I was standing by the bar, he joined me and started talking... I was not sure if he was chatting me up or being friendly.  It was getting late and we wanted to leave when Steve asked for my mobile number and gave me his.  Earlier, I had rushed to meet Hala at the bar, still wearing my work dress. There had been no chance to change into anything else as we had not stopped. Beneath that long-flowing Parisian dress, I had on my waste-to-knee girdle to keep the tummy and bottom firmly in check... Boy, was that a 'Bridge Jones' diary moment (where she was wearing that black heavy panty!). And Steve seven years my junior had got closer to me by the minute and was caressing me all the way down my back while talking to me.  And all I could think of was...  please take your hand away!  So I gave my telephone number in a hurry and rushed to leave as Hala and I were leaving for Marbella the following day.

On our return, about two weeks later, we were out again and I decided to give Steve a call. He answered and asked us to join him at that same bar. This time he definitely flirted with me and we kind of arranged to meet again. My friend Sophie, who had heard of our escapade that evening from Louisa had a warning for me. She said: "Darling, I know you have met Steve and I'm sure he's nice, but I heard he has a production company and also makes porn movies! Be careful."
I turned around with excitement at the thought of meeting... well... what can I say?  
A sort of porn movie producer started laughing and saying: "Only me!  Brilliant darling.  Brilliant."

I really have to go get some sleep now. The time is 3:15 am. This is mad, just like the life I have been leading...

A surprise... only two rows down!

The night at Sadler's Wells arrived. A mixed passion for music and tango!

The ensemble of two marvels of life.  

Robby came to pick me up by cab and we giggled throughout the journey there; catching up on the latest news in our lives.  

My Saturday had passed with the hottest date for lunch at home with a bottle of Brut champagne he brought.  Suddenly, the dark clouds and rainy weather disappeared outside the window and in streamed the warmth of our deep conversation and the physical chemistry that took over. How much passion can a woman take?  Never enough.

My fun friend from Argentina, Isabella had some friends visiting from Buenos Aires and we decided to go out late at night.  Zuma was a good choice for a bite and a couple of cocktails to be followed by a night at our favourite club Fabric.  Always fun there.  I bumped into my brother's friends from college (some years ago now), we danced to Terry Francis, chatted and spent the night away 'til the early hours of the morning. I drove back home at 5.30 am, got some sleep and woke up, deciding to see a Spanish friend; Sylvia. Although she had been staying with her relatives in East London for the last month, we had not managed to meet up. So, driving to Brighton where she'd been spending the weekend seemed like a good idea.

The weather was not too pleasant and I packed a little overnight bag ... Not quite my thing ... small-packing!  Despite the state, I was in I finally managed to meet up with Sylvia on Brighton's large pebbled beach. We met through another friend some six years ago in Ibiza.

I checked into the Hotel du Vin after dinner and slept right through to Monday morning.

After breakfast, I saw my old friend Shiba whom I had first met on a beach in Seychelles some twenty-five years ago when we were both married. She had been spending summer in the South of England so we walked and settled ourselves on the pebbles by the sea and enjoyed the glorious sun which was now shining upon us. We had our laughs and a few sighs, reminiscing about our lives and experiences.  

The most fulfilling and exciting part of our lives as we get older, becomes those meetings with the good ... Sorry, great friends we have picked up along the way. We have been through thick and thin and shared and cared for each other. Prayed for the best and for God to keep our friendship alive until we die.

It is taking a lot of courage to put these thoughts on paper. But the excitement of life is to be cherished and shared. We can all learn from one another. In fact, my best role model after I separated was Samantha in Sex and the City. Haha ... Yep ... She was my heroine-to-be. I watched that program religiously ... And I admired and loved this free-spirited woman who could not care less what anyone thought of her sexuality and what brought her pleasure. Life is to be lived as an individual. It was the one and only time I've ever switched on the TV during the week and stayed in to watch.

Back to Sadler's Wells ... As we got out of the cab, I heard my name called and we had a short conversation with a friend who happened to be at the tango. We parted in order to take our seats. As we sat in row G, I saw in surprise, another friendly face and turned to Robby with a cheeky smile to point out my friend Scot. I spent five days visiting him last year in Amsterdam. A lovely friend.  

"That's Scot," I told my friend.

"Who?" Asked Robby in surprise.

"Mr raspberry. Haven't I told you about him?" I asked.

"Can't recall." Answered Robby with a smile.  

"Let's text him a message." My naughty thoughts took the better of me.

"Well, he is in row E. Write ... 'So how is the view from row E?'" She went on.

"Great idea. Here we go." I fetched my mobile and sent the text to Scot's no.

"He won't be checking at the start but why not."

"You little minx," Was Robby's witty remark.

And we giggled like two teenagers.

After music that blew my mind away, followed by a tango that was so sensual, it could have me melt in the arms of anyone who could move with such excellence and passion. We left the auditorium high on the performance and headed to the tapas restaurant, in pleasant August weather just after some rain.

At dinner, I was facing the bar where a middle-aged man was sitting (what that implies these days I am not sure but it sounds appropriate here). As we continued our conversation on the tango we had just enjoyed, my eyes were wandering and Robby turned to look around and I said: "Check that out!"  

"I thought you were up to something."  Robby laughed.

"He is not bad now, is he?" I questioned.

The man looked like an actor with semi-wavy, salt and pepper hair; a distinguished nose and was smart-casually dressed in a beige safari jacket and pants. He turned around and noticed my smiley eyes. He fixed his gaze on me and smiled back. I said "hello" to him with a naughty look from across the restaurant. He smiled back and gently turned to talk to the waitress.

"You see, I frighten them off, it seems!" I giggled.

He did turn around again, however, for another smile and then, we lost sight of him.

I checked my mobile (still on silent mode since the tango) and saw a missed call from Scot with a text inviting us to come and join him in the bar. But one-and-a-half hours had passed since he'd texted, and we headed home.

Scot called at midnight to say he could not believe we were at the same theatre and that we must arrange to meet up soon for a catch-up.  

Now ... wouldn't you like to know why Scot was called The Raspberry Man?!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

After three and a half years of therapy, many more workshops and the full benefit of spending a few minutes of meditation every morning or whenever time allowed, I managed to break free of a 20-year marriage by mutual agreement with my husband.

This was when I moved into my apartment in a trendy area of the great city of London and let my new life begin.

And with that, I realised for the first time that FREEDOM is everything; it is LIFE.
When you free yourself of all the many commandments and rules that everyone and everything has shaped the person you have become, the moment you realise this, ... is when you truly begin to live.

All those sessions with the therapist asking me to repeat: "I am Special" were paying off.
Unless I love and accept myself truly for the woman I am, it will not be easy to love and accept those around me.  If I question myself then how could I not be questioning others close to me?  It is easier to read and write these words than, to put them fully into practice.
We have learnt from a young age, starting with our loving parents, to correct the things we say and do. I love babies and animals. They are truthful in their reactions to you as they have not been polluted with what has been dictated to them by 'the grown-ups'. 
This is honest.

Barbie and Ken dolls are not real. They are manufactured in factories.  We all love and admire beauty, that is a fact. But we can also be oblivious to it, depending on our mood.
Sitting in a fancy bar with a couple of girlfriends one evening a beautiful, tall, slim girl made her way to the door close to our table.  My friend who like myself had spent most of her life worrying about weight control, made a comment as she passed by:  "Lucky girl", she said.
I turned around and asked her: "Is she? She may be tall, gorgeous and definitely skinny.  But ... is she happy?"

I was married for twenty years and in all those years, I never looked at another man in any way other than as a friend.  Mind you, even such friendship would be judged harshly. If I were seen to talk too much to any man, my husband would accuse me of sleeping with him.  Basically, no male friends for me except on a superficial level.  Even fun female friends were not allowed! Unless I wanted to deal with the unpredictable and volcanic-like eruptions of my husband's anger.  

Looking back now ... I spent much of my life trying to prove myself to others who themselves, were driven by their own insecurities. That period was to end. A new beginning with a new life on my own. How precious is that!

I designed my new flat and moved in two months after that mutual separation agreement.
An end to an era and a new start to a life of non-judgement.  Brilliant.
A chance to put those years behind me and throw myself into new pastures, making new friends and truly living life.

Starting a new life in my early forties was so exciting.  After six months of this, everyone who saw me would comment on how I looked 10 to 15 years younger - without any help from surgery or Botox. Freedom of mind and spirit had been my treatment. When you are happy within, loving and kind, this seems to attract many people - whose paths I crossed as they crossed mine.

I started going out, living it up to make up for all those years of insecurity that I had felt inside.  Going out, meeting people constantly.  The London club scene became an exciting way of dancing the nights away and opening my eyes to a whole new way of being.

My sister Hala, one year younger than me, had spent all her time travelling like a gipsy and enjoying the high life.  She was about to leave for some sunny island to spend the winter far away.  So her sisterly advice to me was: 
"Sis, you cannot be too fussy with your choice of men. After all, you're twenty years older than when you were last single and you won't meet anyone with that kind of attitude."  She went on: "My advice to you is ... firstly of all, get yourself a dildo".  
I interrupted her and had to ask: "What's that exactly?"
She burst into laughter and said: "You have been away quite some time!" and went on to explain the usage of a dildo to me which was alien.  "And start dating through Encounters in the Sunday papers."

She went on her travels and left me puzzled as to how to get myself one of those!  There was no way I could go into a sex shop as I had literally never been in one before!  So I ordered the latest lingerie magazine, saw a few 'designer' dildos in different forms and bought the most expensive one called 'The Bone'.  It looked more like a shoe tree at both ends in an almost black colour.  That way, I thought, if my kids were to come across it in my bedside drawer, they will never know.  So I paid the sum of £200 and ordered the Bone!

The product arrived some days later with instructions to charge it. Simple. So I left it charging in a drawer next to my bed and forgot about it. A couple of days later, I suddenly remembered to go and check on my new toy. To my horror, the hard, stone-like bone had over-charged, melting along one side!!  Greaaaat.  I could not stop laughing at myself.

Meanwhile, I called my sister, now overseas and when she enquired about the dildo, I informed her of my purchase at which she was shocked at the price I had paid.
"But I had no idea they're less than £30!  You didn't mention that to me!" I said innocently.  "Besides, I've managed to damage it!"
"You did what?" she continued laughing.
"Well ....", I explained the situation.
"Sis, you don't do anything by half measures, do you?" Hala went on.

The next move was to call the company which had supplied the goods ...  or not so good.
The lady who picked up the call asked how she could help: "Hello, you know the bone in your catalogue?"
"Yes," answered the lady calmly.
"It came in the post a few days ago and I've managed to break it!"  Before I realised it, the words had popped out of my mouth.
The receptionist could barely hide her shock at the other end of the line.
So I had to give her more details before she made the wrong assumption. 
"Well, I think I must have over-charged it and it has almost melted in one side."
God knows what could have gone through her mind as she arranged for the product to be collected and a new one sent out.
It never really made sense to me, how anyone could get excited over a hard piece of architectural, stone-feeling, two-sided shoe tree in black!  Then again, I was not to judge.  That 'dildo' is still sitting under a pile of clothes in its box and to this day, has never been used.

Hala's next piece of sisterly advice follows ... Newspaper dating!

Workshops to change my life ...

About eleven years ago I attended a 3-day seminar called Landmark Forum. For 14 hours a day, a 'coach' would talk to us about the reality of the facts of each of our lives and help us find easier solutions in order to live better lives.

On the first day, after David; a powerful male Australian speaker spent the morning explaining about the course, he asked all 280 of us to put up our hands if we wanted to answer the question: "Why are you here?"

I was one of the first to put up my hand and he called me over to speak on the low stage close to him.

Although I'd been sitting in one of the front rows I had not noticed the position of the volume control. So, once behind the microphone, I looked around and gasped:   
"Wow!" At which point there were sounds of gentle laughter.

Then he looked at me from behind his desk and asked: "Introduce yourself and tell us why you are here."

"My name is Haldita, I'm almost 40. I have done a few years of therapy; self-development workshops, meditation and spiritual talks but I still have issues with the way certain people can affect me with their words and actions. From what I understand, after all the work of getting closer to finding myself again and understanding many facts of life and different behaviour patterns in different people, I now feel closer to finding happiness. This course, I believe will show me 2+2 equals 4 and it is what it is, so learn to get on with it.

"That is quite accurate," said David. "So what happened?"

"It was a tough marriage for me and after all the verbal and certain aspects of physical abuse, I was so miserable in myself that I had to find a way out of my anger. I did not want to end up a bitter, angry old woman. Surely, there was a way to find peace and happiness again."

He continued: "So when you say you were so miserable in your marriage... why didn't you leave? Were you tied down? Was your husband stopping you from leaving?"

It was so easy to go back to the usual old way of thinking... What, you want to tell me is that it was my fault that he beat me up just because I did not leave?

I continued: "My parents' first divorce came when I was very young and it affected me to such an extent that I swore never to put my own children through a similar ordeal. I can't leave my children! At that time we were living abroad, in a country where women were not given many rights when divorcing." I tried hard not to sob but it was too late. Tears ran down my face.

The coach went on: "You were comfortable staying in that situation rather than taking action in making changes in your unhappy life. So, you stayed feeling sorry for yourself and victimising yourself; which was easier to do than to move on and leave."

This comment shocked me to the core. I was trying to make sense of a reality that was so new to me.  It made me realise he was right. I had been feeling sorry for myself and victimising myself. It did not justify my husband's behaviour towards me, but I could have taken the consequences and left if I really wanted to. At the same time, I knew that had been my way of dealing with a situation that is unique in each of our lives.  I do not regret one second of my life. Sometimes we have to experience very different intensities of pain and suffocate to the point of no return, to hit rock bottom in order to want to break free - to find peace. And possibly, even to learn to love like you have never been hurt before. Very profound words and very difficult to completely leave behind certain experiences when we get faced with them over and over again. What the coach said made sense. Victimisation was to become a thing of my past.

'Nor myself, nor would I allow anyone ever to feel sorry for me,' was the pact I made with myself there and then.

The coach went on to tell us to forget about expectations. From the time we become aware as children, we start to expect things... 

My mother should be kind and understanding at all times! Without a fault.

Siblings are all about having each other's back, loving and compromising. It's what the book says.

School would be fun and everyone will be kind and friendly. Seriously?!

Your partner will be loving and by your side no matter what. That's why you get married. But then, is it? 

And basically, life would be rosy posy. Yeah right.

Thinking back, the school was not an easy ride for me. I was at most an observer, quietly getting on with what was expected of me. I do not recall mingling with too many girls. Looking back, most of my time was spent with one close friend with whom I lost touch, after I left the country in my early teens, to study abroad. Attending boarding school in England in the early seventies, away from the warmth of a privileged upbringing was tough, to say the least. Basically, in time, I learnt to understand life is a school. And the only way to live it well is to learn the tools. 

Two main rules; 'acceptance' rule number one. And that generally 'expectation' leads to disappointment. 

Starter-up....

Well... I guess this is the point of no return... Have been meaning to start up this 'blog' thing my friend Robby has been telling me to do for a few weeks now... There is a beginning to everything.  

And why not!

For some time now, in fact, since my separation after a long marriage... and a very difficult one for that matter, it has been on my mind to write a book.  

It was before I separated that my therapist, with whom I had engaged for 3.5 years in the run-up to my separation, told me one last thing before telling me that there was no need for me to carry on the therapy sessions. He said that I had made a lot of vital changes in my life and it was time to move on and use my knowledge to help others.

"One last thing, my dear" François said in his serene, calm voice... "I hope one day you'll write a book and inspire others to make the necessary changes in their own lives." 

Big words, I thought, and was quite gob-smacked at his suggestion but it has been in the back of my mind for the past ten or eleven years since I last went to his therapy.

The last times I saw him, in moments of hurt and upset at how ill I was treated, I would tell him with great surprise, how I went to this event and the other trip and met so many lovely people and the sweet compliments they would each pay me. He would then stop me and ask: 

"So, what does that make you?"

I would stop and wonder and ask back: "What?"

"That makes you Special,"  he would answer.

I would be sitting there not quite in a childlike giggle and be ready to thank him for that remark. But he would then tell me: "Repeat after me: I am Special."

In a shy tone, I would smile and say, almost in a whisper: "I am Special." Then I would stop and add: "But everyone is Special."

"Say it again," he would repeat. "We're not talking of everyone, say I am Special."

While I wish he would stop I also knew I had to say it to believe it, so I repeated the words again and, this time, in a stronger tone: "I am Special, I am Special."

What a man Francois has been. He has helped me find myself again,  almost like a lost child finding her path through a deep forest. Some people would describe themselves as low and little as a grain. I felt transparent. 

 And there I was, finding myself as Buddha would say: kill everything within, any past, any anger and start a new life as a newborn.  

Here is the beginning of my rebirth .........