WARNING: Contains material that may cause distress

It’s not the things you said to me,
It’s not the things you did,
It’s not the things you asked of me,
Or things you did and hid

It’s not the way you treated me
Nor things you made me do
It’s not the things you showed to me
Or made me show to you

It’s not the way you came to me
The middle of the night
Pretending you were comforting
You never saw my fright

It’s not the hurtful memories
That make me feel so sad
It’s that I used to trust you
It’s that you were my dad

But now that life is over
And I can start to heal
And put away those memories
And get a chance to feel

Saved from your evil clutches
I’m starting life again
And maybe I’ll be normal
Before I get to ten

No, dad, I won’t forget you
Or things that you once did
But all those crazy memories
I’ve put away and hid

It isn’t easy for a child
For one as young as me
To leave behind those hurtful thoughts
And hurtful memories

But now I live with Grandma
And she knows what to do
And Grandpa’s gentle, loving voice
Will help me to get through

They have such kind expressions
With loving, gentle care
They give me lots of cuddles
When hurtful thoughts are there

They put up with my whining
And crying in the night
They take away the nasty thoughts
That often cause me fright

They’re such a calming presence
At times when I think back
They fill my days with wonder
E’en when my mood is black

And someday I’ll repay them
For all the love they’ve shown
For giving me the kind of life
I’ll treasure as my own

And now those distant mem’ries
Are fading out of sight
Despite the fact they sometimes come
The middle of the night

No longer am I worried
That you will come to me
Like when you were my daddy
And I was only three

For now that life is over
A new life has begun
A life that’s new each morning
A bright new, shining sun

And I can now move forward
Forgetting all your lust
Because I have new parents
And these I know I trust


Someone asked me, recently, why I’ve been so quiet lately. This poem has been bubbling around for months. It’s a tribute to all the survivors, and to all who help them survive.


Relentless Pleasure


Relentless raindrops
Washing down my window pane.
Bird conversations.

Sufficient to meet
The needs of daily living.
Birds ask nothing more.

Sitting, watching rain.
Listening to the happy birds.
Relentless pleasure.

For Those Who Travel Deep Within

Llangorse Lake

Rest awhile where sanctuary heals
By waters, calm, reflecting azure sky.
Majestic mountains add dimensions
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Opening, once again, the wounds of time
That will not heal till sorrow passes,
To calm and soothe the furrowed brow
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Baring soul to mindful scrutiny
To live again experiences sad,
And pain the heart with sorrows yet untold
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Is it me? Or am I just the victim?
Did I cause effects that no one else can see?
Have I done such wrongs that leave a scar
That only those who travel deep within can know?

Is there empathy or understanding
Anywhere within my circle of acquaintance;
Companions who may see the pain
That only those who travel deep within can know?

Boldly forging on with tears blurring sight.
Listening to the sound as waters lap the shore.
Watching memories passing by
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Mindful meditation taking pain
And watching as it ebbs and flows.
Knowing thoughts that cannot be expressed,
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Can peace be found on water’s edge?
Or on the mountain’s weathered breast?
Can there yet be another way
That only those who travel deep within can know?

Surely time will heal the savage thoughts
That echo endlessly in mind and heart.
So few can understand the life
That only those who travel deep within can know.

Angry people flocking to and fro
With ne’er a thought for peaceful contemplation,
Intimidated by the peace
That only those who travel deep within can know.



“I’m lost.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I don’t know where I am.”

“You’re here!”

“But where’s here?”

“Why does it matter? Where do you want to be?”

“That’s the point. I don’t know where here is; and I don’t know where I . . . Well, actually, I do know where I want to be, and I’m not there.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. That’s what’s so confusing. I’m not sure I can really explain it.

“You see, I look around and I’m in a jungle between lots of trees with a dense fog, all around. There’s no clear path out. I can’t even work out how I got here. Yet I’m also not sure that I don’t want to be here. I mean, it could be said that I’m here by choice, couldn’t it. So, if I’m here by choice, I probably want to be here. But why would I want to be here?”

“Why do you think you want to be here?”

“I don’t know. Am I hiding from something? Or someone? Who? I feel like I’m hiding from . . . myself! Why would I do that? Am I trying to deceive myself? Why? There’s something I need to do and . . . and I’m afraid to do it; somewhere I have to go, but I’m afraid to go there.”

“”Where do you have to go? And what do you have to do?”

“I have no idea.

“Well, actually, that’s not quite true. I have to go inside and search.”

“Inside? Inside what?”

“Not what? Who? I have to go inside myself. And that’s scary.”

“Not many people can do that.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Too many people go off to ‘find themselves’ and never come back. No wonder it’s scary.

“Yet, really, I know where I am. I’m here; wherever here is. I’m not really lost. I know where I am; I’m here. I just don’t know where here is.”

“If you did know where ‘here’ is, what would you do with that information? After all, you said there are no visible paths. So it would not matter which direction you go in.”

“True. But at least . . . at least if I’m moving, it would be easier to turn.”


“And I’ll never find my way unless I can see where I’m headed for.

“I suppose the real question is where I want to be headed for. If I’m searching for myself, and I know I’m here, then haven’t I already found myself? Haven’t I already reached my destination?

“No. That’s not quite true. The idea of a destination suggests that the journey will end. Yet the journey never ends, does it. Life goes on and the journey doesn’t end. After all, once we reach our destination we look around for somewhere else to go. The journey never ends. And, since I know that I’m here, this is just a stopping off point on my journey.

“So why can I not see which way to go? Because I have no clear direction? Where do I want to be? No. Why do I want to be here?”

“Good question. Why do you want to be here?”

“Because I need a rest. I need some time without the demands of other people tugging at my resources. Yet I also don’t want to ignore the needs of those who matter to me. That’s why I’m afraid to search for myself – I don’t want to lose those I care about.”

“And yet you know where you are.”

“So I don’t need to search! I’m here.

“And the mist is clearing. Mist? Fog? What’s the difference? It’s clearing. There is always a path between the trees. It may not be a well-worn path, but it’s still a path. It’s a path I have to make for myself. It’s my life; my journey; my path.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I know where I am. And I know where I’m going.

“I’m here, and I’m going to keep going. I’m simply going to walk between two trees and keep going.

“That’s strange.”

“What is?”

“Where did that path come from? Did I just make that path? Yes. It’s my path.”

“Where does it lead?”

“Wherever I want it to lead. I am in control of my life. I can choose to stay here or I can choose to move on. It’s my choice.”

“And what have you chosen?”

“To move on.”

“Where to?”

“Wherever my journey takes me . . . No . . . Wherever I want to go. And I want to go and look after those I care about; which includes myself. After all, I’m actually in a clearing between trees.

Now, look between those two trees. What do you see?”

“It’s not about what I see. It’s about what you see. But I see a path.”

“ Of course you do. It may not be much of a path, but it’s my path. It’s my way forward. Thanks for listening.

“So. Are you coming?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

If you have seen this, previously, on my other blog, I apologise. I am moving everything to this blog in order to simplify my life in harmony with minimalist principles!

It’s Getting Up That Counts


Disappointments happen; and we need to get used to it. We are going to have bad times as well as good; and the only thing we can really control is the way we respond.

I don’t know the full story, but this boat was obviously left to rot. Yet it could well have been recovered if only its owner had not given up.

When we fall, there is a temptation to think that we are failures. But that is not necessarily true. It has often been said that failure is successfully finding a way that does not work. That’s a good way to look at it. Psychologists call it reframing. It’s a matter of looking at things from a different perspective; changing the way we think about things; viewing failure as an opportunity to learn. It’s a matter of seeing the potential in each situation. As was once said, when you’re at the bottom, the only way is up.

Think Positively

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Enough Really Is Enough

Llyn Llech Owain
Your local area probably has great locations for photography and meditation. A holiday at home is less expensive and offers an opportunity to find these easily-accessible places.

Some years ago I was discussing the weekly shop with a colleague. He told me that his wife had been to the local superstore, the previous evening, and returned with a car “full” of bags. She had spent most of the week’s grocery budget. On checking the bags, however, it appeared that there was little food included. As he said, it appeared that the cleaning products, toilet rolls, toothpaste, etc., far outweighed the food.

In 1943, Abraham Maslow developed his theory of The Hierarchy of Needs. In it he proposed that the physiological needs fill the most basic necessities – food and water, among other things. Safety, such as you may consider to be satisfied by cleaning products, comes second. That makes sense. We are not likely to be able to clean the house if we fail to eat or drink for too long a period.

All of this highlights the difficulties of obtaining “sufficient for each day.” What do we mean by “sufficient”?

Advertising Pays – But It Doesn’t Pay You

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My Choice

Gorilla Eating

We have looked at the value of solitude, confidantes, and support networks. We have looked at how to deal with other people’s choices when they impact on our lives. Now it’s time to look at the things that we can control. And it’s important to start with our choices.

Our gorilla knows that he needs to eat the right things. (And if anyone thinks that a vegan diet will make you thin and sickly-looking, take a look at the picture again!) He also knows the value of both solitude and company. Here, he is concentrating on that which he can control.

Beware of The Consequences

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When It’s Not My Choice

Gorilla Thinking

I used to have a sign above my desk that said, “Bad planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” There are other versions of this but they all carry the same message: “I have no intention of becoming stressed just because you are.”

It’s a bit like this gorilla. He has very little say in what happens to him. He has been captured and placed in a zoo. So he accepts his situation, eats what he is fed, and seems to be content with his lot in life without worrying about the zoo keeper’s stress.

Dealing With Someone Else’s Decisions

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