the naked heart

The word vulnerable comes from the latin 'vulnus' which means 'wound'. today we associate it with being in danger, at risk of attack and generally not being safe. We also say that to be emotionally 'open' is to be vulnerable. I like to think of this as a nakedness of the heart.

To expose your naked heart is a thing of beauty. It is honest & pure. There is no room for bullshit when in the company of vulnerability. It allows fear to be present without the fear controlling and/or stealing the show.  There is nothing quite as precious as sharing the deepest pain & shedding a few tears with someone, be they your best friend or a complete stranger.

We are encouraged to hide our naked heart just as we do our naked bodies once we get past the tender age of 4. Our parents, teachers, friends and the telly tells us to stand up and be strong in difficult times but I wonder what would happen if we allowed equal time to accepting a vulnerability to sit within us.  So i pass it over to you, my fellow muses.. Is vulnerability an attractive quality that you admire or something that is revolting & makes you run a mile?

in reply to Deborah Hill Cone of the NZ Herald...

This article was published in the NZ Herald regarding the recent suicide of Charlotte Dawson. Here is my reply:

Oh Deborah, what happened in this life to make you so bitter and nasty towards Charlotte Dawson?  Surely you don't actually believe that someone who so openly discussed her struggles actually completed suicide based on something as flippant as a fear of looking older? I quote you "It is hard being 47. At the crisis of middle age, losing your sexual currency, becoming invisible."  I guess the attraction of the 'cougar' isn't something you are familiar with?

Are you suggesting when approaching 50, people are no longer sexual creatures? no longer desired? no longer worthy? or just so unattractive that they might as well be invisible? Or are you only talking about women? I only ask because I wonder what you would say if it were someone like George Clooney that took his life.  I did read your column on the suicide of respected defense lawyer, Greg King and you seemed to have a bit more compassion and open thought. Why aren't we talking about Greg's sexuality?  Is that because Greg was a man? a lawyer? clever (by your judgement)? And since you aren't one adverse to personal attacks (or is that just ok after someone has completed suicide?), I wonder if your views on Charlotte Dawson and the focus on her losing her "sexual currency" are more to do with you feeling like you are losing your "sexual currency" after your husband left you.

I did my homework, I know you have suffered mild depression (as you put it) twice and I am sorry that you had to endure the torment that depression can bring. I too have suffered depression, on and off for many years.  Sometimes medication helped and sometimes it didn't. That's not really relevant or interesting to anyone else but me is it? I firmly believe that the media need to stay out of the Doctor's office.  After all, they are the ones who have done the training and hear all the details of our ups and downs.

Since we are talking about the most vulnerable and fragile of states, depression that leads to suicide, is it really wise to spout, so vehemently, ones own views on what would help those who are in such a state?  How would you feel if someone who was in an unsafe situation read your article about Charlotte Dawson and came to the conclusion that you were right, that after a certain age they are useless? that if they no longer can pull a younger man their lives are meaningless? that if a woman is childless she has failed?  We, as a society and as women, need to look at what is behind insidious low self esteem. It can manifest as an obsession in ones image, an eating disorder and it can lead to suicide.  You are an educated woman Deborah, one who has some experience with feeling low, surely you have an ability to see behind what is presented on face value.  Or maybe you don't?

I don't agree that "ageing is brutal".  Ageing is a privilege, one that not everyone gets to experience.  Sure, I admit that I am not a massive fan of wrinkles and sagging breasts but I consider myself extremely lucky to be alive with an ability to use my voice.  That voice, as I am sure you know, develops as we age and experience hardships and/or trauma.  

Suicide awareness, prevention and the reporting of it is something that requires urgent global attention.  Mental illness and it's complexities is not something any of us should call judgement on because we don't really know the depths of anyone's battles.  We can only know what they share with us.  It is the responsibility of the media to take care when reporting on such issues and I trust your employer will take note of this.

celebrity suicide & the media

I will start this off respectfully by saying, poor Charlotte & her grieving loved ones. I hope the family are given the space and time they need without the hideous press knocking on their doors.

I will bang on about suicide awareness and prevention for the rest of my days, that is for sure. What has really pissed me off is the looming question of "how did she do it" and now that we know how she did it, we shall pass a judgement and comment. Since when was it the right of the public to know how anyone spends their final hours? Charlotte like many celebrities (and non-celebrities) before her completed suicide. Note that I refuse to use the word 'committed' as I do not see suicide as a crime but rather a tragic end to one's battle with their inner demons.

It has been on my mind and I debated whether or not to comment on Charlotte's death. This isn't really about her though is it? It is more about the hunger the public has to know every intimate detail of celebrity life and death. It is disgusting! How she completed the act is irrelevant to me, just as it is when someone dies of cancer or a stroke or any other disease for that matter.  They died. It is sad and horrible for those close to that person.  Do I need to know how your uncle, grandparent, friend or pet spent their final day and what the final complication was that took them from this life? I don't. I just know that I am sad for you, for them and for anyone effected.

How anyone spends their last moments in this life is not up for public speculation, gossip or judgement. I wish the media could be forced to not report on methods of suicide but rather focus on the tragedy that suicide brings our community.  I read about Charlotte's method of suicide via facebook and it made me terribly sad. I know it also triggered emotions and flashbacks for people I know and care about dearly. Pretty sure this is not the goal of suicide.  From what I have read suicide is about ending suffering (not life), so why does our media insist on inflicting suffering on others that might be vulnerable and/or sensitive to this kind of detail?  Suicide is not a rare event. Chances are we are all going to know a few people that have attempted it and probably some who go through with it.  I don't know what we can do to make our media respectful to both the dead and those that are left behind but something needs to change. It needs to change now.

And because this is my blog and I am focusing on doing what I can for those in crisis, please check out my fundraising page here. If you have been bereaved by suicide and want to chat with others who have been through it too you can join my support group here. Thank you. Xx

forbidden

oh i could just fade into you

your words melt me 

and leave me

aching, 

i'm wanting more of you

she tells me you are like forbidden fruit

a sin of flesh

full of seduction and desire

and here we are

de ligno autem scientiae boni et mali

who decides the definition

 what is right and who is wrong?

i'm wanting more of you

you are the lump in my throat

a shame to manifest

i will be banished from the garden

is the attraction inflamed
by the shouldn't
the couldn't
the wouldn't...
but we might, mightn't we?

 

oh i am drawn into you

your words engulf me
and leave me
dreaming,
i've got more of you

Elephants, grief and the zoo

When an 11 month old baby dies, it wreaks havoc on any family. An accidental death with an "approved and safe" toy.  Imagine a half-sibling is due to be born within days of this death. Think about the bereaved mother having to grieve her son and then be surrounded by the sounds and smell of a newborn. What about the older siblings that miss their mischievous brother and are then almost immediately provided with a new baby in the family. This entire situation would be beyond torturous.

Welcome to the Elephant enclosure this week at Melbourne Zoo.

Condolences and congratulation messages have swamped the Zoo's Victoria facebook page. Both are filled with honest and raw emotion. Rightly so. My first thoughts were filled with anger and sadness. I hope they have removed that fucking toy that caused the death of Sanook! I don't understand how such accidents can occur in an environment that attracts so much media attention, donations and funding. Yet here were are.  A toy has taken the life of a young calf and I start to think about elephants and grieving.

Elephants carry their grief for extensive periods.  They shed tears. They show signs of what humans call clinical depression. They come together as a family (or herd) and look out for one another. It is common for Aunts to mourn very closely with the Mother of a deceased calf.  They take the process of goodbye pretty seriously too. They perform burials and can spend days at the site. You can watch clips on YouTube of Elephants and respect they show the body of another who has died. It is pretty moving stuff. Beautiful and soft creatures these giants are.

I wonder why the staff at the Melbourne Zoo removed the body of Sanook after only a few hours. I can only assume that the viewing (aka paying) public couldn't be kept from seeing the elephant enclosure.Apparently the elephants are clearly in grief and have been seen huddling together. They are quiet and withdrawn but also looking out for the new mum. Surely during such a highly emotive week these creatures have the right to be spared prying eyes.

If a human baby accidentally died at home and a new baby was to be entering the family within days that child services would be all over it like a rash. Do young animals have that same right to scrutiny and safety?

RIP Sanook. Xx

today i burnt my anger & my fears...

Write down everything you are angry about and/or fear in life. Burn it.

Before...
I'm a bit aprehensive about this project but acknowledge that anger and fear both play a major part in my day to day living.  Being one not to avoid such things, I am going to try and redirect my focus on these two things because honestly, I'm anxious about the fear and I'm angry about the anger!  Nothing will ever totally eradicate either of these two traits and nor should they. Without the inhale there would be no exhale, as the buddhists would say.  How do I think I will feel during and after this project?
I imagine, if I allow the raw emotion that I will feel ever ounce of it. I imagine the buring will bring a sense of empowerment and control.

Here we go....

You know what... it just made me feel calm. It was good to SEE what all this anger and fear is (eventhough I am fully aware of these things in my mind, making them physical does something else). They are still inside of me, they didn't go away but they are not as dominant as they could be.

The hardest part was tearing up the anger and the fear. And while it did feel REALLY good, it is not something I have done before as I normally keep these 'records' as a memory of what was/is. Now I am ready to burn these bitches!!.....

The burning is the fun part, that is for sure!! goodbye anger and fear!

After...
I actually feel really good. Dare I say calm?
Anyone who knows me after work on a December day knows that this is very far from the norm.

heartbeat

our arms linked as we wandered through the city streets

we didn't care for the snickers and the stares

and i,

i could feel your heartbeat

a flicker

a flame

a fervidness

to blame

i rested my head on your shoulder as the music played

we didn't care for the world that night

and you,

you could feel my heartbeat

a whisper

a whetting

a whirlwind

to tame

in your firm embrace to bid goodnight

we didn't care for the rules or the righteous

as i,

i could feel your heartbeat