I mean force your body to let go
take a deep breath in
turn your attention to something beautiful
there is always that something
a sweet memory
now just do it
#DigiWriMo , #Day21
I mean force your body to let go
take a deep breath in
turn your attention to something beautiful
there is always that something
a sweet memory
now just do it
#DigiWriMo , #Day21
I came across an article that enlightened me to the subject of “Acts of Deprivation”. In summary, we have this need to re-enact our childhood traumas that left us feeling abandoned. We want to go through them again because we believe that this time round, we can fix that feeling and feel whole again. This makes us attracted to people with the characteristics our caretakers had that made us feel abandoned. Hence, we all fall in love with our bad boys/girls. Below is a link describing Acts of Deprivation. There are also exercises you can do to identify this in your own life. Interesting stuff!
This is the sort of thing that manipulators love to use. All you need to do is identify the acts of deprivation in a victim and boom, you can get them to do all sorts of things for you. To any manipulative people that are reading this – whatever you have to manipulate to get is not yours to take, you will have to work very hard to keep manipulating to keep it. It’s not worth it!
From a writing perspective, this is the stuff to use for characters in a story. Let’s take 50 Shades of Grey; I can now understand why so many women were literally “wetting their panties” reading this book. A man with the looks she adores in a powerful position; he represents a twisted father figure very well! He spanks her, controls her, tells her when/what to eat, when to sleep, how to look after herself, buys her toys and even overly intervenes in her daily life to tell her what to do as if she can’t look after herself. Most fathers can’t be perfect all the time – they can’t always be there for a child and in return the child feels she can’t quite get what she needs from him. Christian Grey is not perfect! Add a lot of sex everywhere that you didn’t think was pleasurable and is suddenly pleasurable; the sex itself is also an act of deprivation. It’s a lot of scenarios that under normal circumstances would make you feel degraded – but all of a sudden, you read this and you realise it turns you on! (Like when that boy says something degrading to you, you suddenly want him more). Spoiler Alert – but apparently the 50 shades of grey books go through 3 books of him being out of her reach leaving her deprived until the end where Mrs Lead Character whose name I can’t even remember manages to “fix” all their/his issues and she is finally no longer deprived. So in reading the books, most woman’s childhood issues are recreated in some twisted way, then fixed in the end. We all have our happy ending 😉
On a more positive note. Acts of Deprivation has an opposite force called Acts of Inspiration, to be attracted people that accept us for who we are but whose characteristics inspire us to something greater! The challenge here is to get around that mentality that we don’t need to win someone’s care but just accept it, especially when we are hard wired to believe that nothing that isn’t worked for is worth having. My answer to that; we still need to work to fight that side of ourselves that loves to be deprived, and at least this time we will grow and have a better chance at a happy ending.
That’s more that’s more than enough inspiration from me, I would like to go brood on more deprived characters…
#DigiWriMo , #Day20
The character in my mind that haunts me most, is the image women create for themselves, she is Self Image. If she were to materialise from my mind, this is what she would say.
It would be hard to place the exact date I came into existence, I would guess I’m roughly 21. I have stayed this age for years. I don’t remember the first few years of my life or even the powers that created me. I like to think I was conceived around the time Madame was 3 years old. You will think I’m a woman when you meet me; I am probably a woman but I can be anything, I can be a man sometimes, I’m not the expert on what it is to be a man, but to be a man I basically take on some characteristics that Madame believes are masculine. She usually panics when I do this! It’s very important to her that I am a woman, feminine and perfect.
Madame has accepted me as I am on a few occasions but mostly I’m always being compared to some crazy perfect creature, who is ever changing and a figment of her imagination. I feel abused and hurt by this constant comparison! I used to take all that nonsense but now I play tricks to get my revenge. I wait for incidents that cause Madame to feel fragile then change the way I look. It scares her and she feels terrible. She also blames those incidents for my changes which is quite funny, but then she punishes me. That manipulative Madame knows that she is the sole reason I live so she punishes me by punishing herself. She thinks that by being cruel to herself I will become perfect. Not so! Oh I used to try, but I’m over that now. When she is kind to me, I reward her by being someone that will makes her happy. When she is cruel to me, I make small changes to myself that will make her believe that I will turn into her worst nightmare, Madame knows I’m the key to her being happy with herself – if I turn into her worst nightmare, she will never be able to be happy with herself.
Madame does not like interacting with the world; she uses me to interact with everyone else. She likes to stay locked away in that state of nothingness where she feels safe, she makes me give the illusion to everyone that I am her and I have to do everything for her. Now that I have told you this, you can understand why it’s so important to her that I am perfect – she wants to be seen as perfect too. Madame can be a cold unfeeling person, then there are those days, even months when she is besotted with me. It’s always those times when parts of me have come close to what she would like me to be. It’s intoxicating to be idolised, it worries me though; she idolises me so much that I feel like a god. To think you are a god is not healthy! I’m in charge of interacting with everyone – when I’m feeling like a god, I probably don’t treat people that humanly. Being a god makes me feel as if I’m so much better than them, this would cause me to act in a way that is not fitting. Madame doesn’t think how I feel when someone decides it’s time to bring me down to being a mere mortal, that is until she realises her idol is substandard. Then the phase passes and I’m back to being improved upon!
When I’m interacting with others, Madame doesn’t have access to try and control me as much. I can just go through the motions and send all the information I receive back to her. She loves new information so she is mostly well behaved during these periods. I say mostly because there are those times when others give her feedback that I’m slipping up, she gets into such a state and I’m left on my own to pretend everything is alright in case I make her even madder.
I am very tired these days, so much time is spent on trying to keep Madame happy. I thought she just wanted me to impress everyone else but it’s even worse when we are alone. She thinks all this alone time is the perfect time to coax me into being something better. I don’t mind improvement, we all need it, but she always wants instant change. She is not realistic! Teach someone how to ride a bike in a slow caring manner and it’s a lovely bonding process. Show someone a picture of a bike and say, “That should be you! Be that!” The person will fall and hurt themselves. In this instance Madame would probably get even angrier because the picture she pointed at hasn’t emerged. Absolute madness! I long for the day we can have a less turbulent relationship. I don’t want to be idolised, I want to be loved and accepted with all my flaws.
#digiwrimo , #day19
“Melissa is one of the most intense and hardcore hunters you will ever meet. Her passion for the outdoors kicked in at an early age while hunting with her family in central Minnesota. Throughout high school she could be found in a tree stand before class and dreamed of a way to hunt for a living.
After graduating with honors and a double major in TV broadcasting and Spanish from St Cloud State University, Melissa started her outdoor career as a TV intern. Within a few months Melissa was offered a full time position as a producer and traveled the world filming a variety of incredible hunters.
Although this was close to her dream job, Melissa still longed for the day she could be the one squeezing the trigger. In order to achieve this goal Melissa spent every spare moment filming all her own hunts. After each successful hunt she would edit the shows together and give the footage away in hopes of gaining exposure. As an avid bowhunter this took a lot of time and patience but after taking several nice animals and putting together solid shows Melissa wish was finally granted. Now seven-years later Melissa spends over 170 days in the field both hunting and producing TV. Her triple threat expertise includes producing, writing and hunting on camera for her show Winchester Deadly Passion.”
As seen above Melissa is very passionate about killing. When I first saw the picture of her smiling face next to the dead lion, I immediately felt disgusted, then I saw my facebook feed full of demonising comments about her, I felt bad for her too. There was no denying I was far more used to seeing a man with his gun next to a dead animal. This picture would have been more accceptable if it was a man next to a kudu for example. Swap the man for a woman, then swap the kudu for a lion and you have a very unsettling image!
What this woman did was absolutely legal and her killing a lion in South Africa means a big cash injection somewhere – some will argue this money goes to anti-poaching projects or even nature conservation. In terms of the law she has done nothing wrong. There is a petition going round for her to not be allowed back in South Africa. I do not see why any government official would entertain this. She brings money into the country and through her hunting shows will bring publicity about South Africa.
Also who decided which animal was fine to kill and which wasn’t? Many endangered birds are killed daily to make room for new resorts and beaches – do we have any problems with this? Yes – but not enough to stop us from enjoying the beaches or resorts built there. We eat meat everyday– do we have a problem with killing those animals? Different cultures have their ‘list’ of animals which are fine to kill. Dogs in China – yes. In SA – hell no!
Now, there are quite a few people hating on Mellissa Bachman. Why? Most human beings are not happy with the glorification of killing! In court, a jury is much for sympathetic to an apologetic killer as opposed to a proud one. For killing animals, there are different levels of what glorification is alright. Heads of antelope on the wall? Mostly acceptable in South Africa – I wonder how acceptable though? I have heard many people commenting about being unsettled the eyes on the heads are. The more large, beautiful and powerful the animal, the more value we put on it. A lion is magnificent! We do not like to see this animal hunted for a trophy. The more valuable the animal, the more you have to justify the killing of it for human pleasure.
In the past people could even kill hundreds of lions on their safaris/hunting sprees, then we got more educated and realised this was wrong. It’s illegal to act like this now. Today, if we look into the real reason for the decline in Lions – it’s to protect livestock! Predators prey on cattle, sheep and goats. Ranch owners kill the lions using poison, guns or whatever is needed to protect their livestock.
This is not killing for pleasure, there is a need behind this killing that we can identify with. It’s to survive, make money and protect meat; our source of food. Even though this causes a lot more damage than one trophy killing – it’s much easier to relate to. Perhaps if you are really passionate about keeping lions alive; you would best use your energy to educate farmers into better farming practices than jumping on the anger wagon towards Mellissa Bachman.
In some cases I can almost agree with hunting. In places where there is too many of an animal in an area, it can cause destruction to the environment. It’s necessary to bring down the numbers of that animal. This situation would usually occur because human beings caused the imbalance – building property in the wrong areas or too many predators being killed or removed. Never the less, these things happen, it could make sense to kill the animals to bring down the numbers. I’m also sure, some more creative ways could be reached.
Back to killing for pleasure – which is what makes us feel angry towards people like Mellissa Bachman? Unfortunately, humans do have this innate desire to kill. There are many people who deeply enjoy hunting. I’m sure it gives a feeling of power to have the skill to track down an animal then hit a moving target through all the surrounding ‘turmoil’. But my feeling is, if you really are a hunter; hunt fair! Get rid of the gun. Hunt like your ancestors did, use the objects in your surrounding area. If you can truly ‘win’ like this, maybe then it justifies that trophy! Thinking you won in this sport by shooting an animal from a distance is a big illusion. If you want to revert to the brutal ways of the past, do it properly! Even in saying this it still feels unfair. Animals attack humans for survival/food. If you are attacking for fun – the balance is off. The only way you could fairly express that desire to kill – find other like-minded people and fight it out, maybe then you can rightly feel like a skilled, powerful man/woman when you win.
It was a rainy day in Cape Town today. I could see the clouds rolling in over the mountain but my lazy self needed to get to gym. I had never been to the Oranjezicht City Farm Market and it was still open (Saterday 9.30 till after lunch), so I decided to stop by on the way to gym (I have a cool hoody and hipster track suite bottoms – I didn’t look that hideous :-P).
I got out the car and rushed into the market. Thank goodness it has a tent covering to shelter from the rain. I immediately liked it. It’s a small market – intimate and cosy!
First stop: Spades & Spoons Deli. I had recently seen photo’s of the place posted on facebook so was happy to be able to taste what I had seen. The lady that runs the place has been vegan for a good many years so all the products are vegan – mostly raw vegan. Raw chocolate treats, chocolate brownies, carrot cake and raw vegan cheese cake. I tasted everything! The raw orange chocolate dessert was my favourite, but I’m a chocoholic so I decided to buy the raw vegan cheesecake as an interesting change. The nuts she uses in the deserts are pre-soaked for digestibility, which I liked. I don’t agree with eating raw nuts that are not soaked. Most of her cakes are sweetened with agave (I’m not a fan of agave). Some of the desserts are sweetened with fruit others with sugar (probably the few cakes that were not raw). The cheese cake was delish and it was my first vegan ‘cheese’ cake. It was still very naughty and today was not my cheat day! She also sells raw crackers (carrot, sweet potato, coconut and ‘pizza’). I’m guessing they are made through dehydration and low heat. Very yummy! I bought the sweet potato ones. The crackers are there for tasters to have with the amazing dips. My favourite was the curry coconut dip!
The next place I found exciting was the french cheese stall. I prefer to eat raw dairy. If I’m having a cheat day, I don’t mind having pasteurized dairy from a farm that treats their animals fairly. I get introduced to a brie that is made from pasteurised cows milk. I hone in on the word pasteurized and ask if he maybe had unpasteurized cheese. YES! I was amped. He had at least 3 cheeses made from unpasteurised milk. They were from De Savoie region in France – this is apparently near the alps. Images of cows strolling through flowery mountain pastures fill my mind. I had once watched a documentary on some cows in the alps. All the flowers they ate gave the cheeses from the region its different flavour – I doubt this was that exact cheese but I was still! I bought Reblochon. I loved it. Nothing like eating smelly, creamy cheese. I should have bought more. Not to worry, the places name is La Cremerie and they have a shop in Gardens Shopping Centre. Not the best that they are imported from France (in terms of trying to buy local of course, I would never refer to french cheese being sub standard). We have no raw milk cheeses made in SA that I know of.
There’s a few stands selling fresh veg and I could only buy spinach ( I was already low on cash). I think I’m going to do my veg shopping there every Saturday. All the veg is local, fresh and organic.
The next place of interest was a man selling a variety of produce, but the quinoa was what held my interest. Organic red and white quinoa. I love red quinoa. It’s not easy to come by organic red quinoa in Cape Town. Unfortunately, the red quinoa stocked by Wellness Warehouse is not organic and I think it might be GMO (If I can’t sprout a grain, I assume it has been nukes and hence GMO). The man at the stall said he brought the quinoa from South America (not the seeds). He has started to sprout and grow them himself! Score! In the future I will be able to be a able to buy locally produced, non GMO, organic quinoa from him.
Cherene Organics! The sprouts I buy from Wellness Warehouse boast this name – I was happy to put a face to the product. The lady makes the most amazing pesto and humus. I struggled to chose one! I ended up getting the basil humus. The tub is already finished. What impressed me most is the amount of love she put into making the humus. The chickpeas are first sprouted then steamed. Only the best, natural ingredients added to the chickpeas. Preperation is everything. Our ancestors put a lot more effort into preparing food than we did. All beans, peas, legumes and grains should be soaked, fermented or sprouted. It helps your body assimilate the nutrients and it tastes better. I also feel more alive and vibrant eating these 🙂
I’m also into buying “biodynamic” eggs now. The eggs I found at the market were Happy Hen eggs. I’ve seen them on the Ethical Co-op website and remember them being labeled as Free Range, so I wasn’t too sure what their standards for chickens are like. I unfortunately can’t find a website online.
I found everyone at the market very friendly and they were all so passionate about the foods they were creating. I left the market to take a look at the ‘farm’ opposite the market. The rain had cleared up a bit. As I was strolling through the garden, I looked around – to my right Table Mountain and to my far left I had a view of the ocean. This must be the City Farm with one of the best views in the world! At the end of the farm/garden, I saw some steam rising off the ground, it was the compost heap. Two men were turning the ‘soil’…
It’s a non-profit community farm. Great initiative! Their site below to view more details on how it all started and how to get involved:
OK. Too much food in my belly! Off to gym…
Little J is feeling nervous, a little shy, she tries to hide behind her father. Her messy pig tails drop over her shoulders. She peaks around her father. He laughs “You’re a big girl now, you can go say hello.” She replies “You can go for me”. He refuses, “You can do it by yourself.” She decides to bury her shyness; she is curious to meet Big J. She looks down at her white lacy vest and skirt. It’s her favourite outfit, it makes her feel pure. She puts on a look of determination and starts walking cautiously toward the playground. She looks at all the green grass and feels happy. Playgrounds were a treat, there was so much to do. Hopefully she could get Big J to pull the see-saw down for her. She could also ask her to catch her at the bottom of the slide. Slides were scary, she sometimes got stuck at the top. One never knew what would happen at the bottom of a slide. It always felt better if there was someone to catch her at the bottom.
I adjust the scarf around my neck, it feels tangled. It’s my favourite wrinkled, black scarf. I can’t fix it, I can see little J in the distance. I have no idea how to deal with little people so I smile and walk, with a carefree appearance, over to her. I want to try and make both of us feel as at ease as possible. I have spent the large part of the morning playing out the future conversation in my head but still can’t decide how I should act or what would be important to say. If I was one of those overly emotional people, I would want to cry and just hold her, give her as much love and healing that I possibly could. I already know Little J would hate this. She only likes that kind of behaviour when she feels like a failure. She would probably like it if I took her awareness away from herself. I was finally facing her, “Should we have ice-creams and go sit on the swings?”
Little J is excited to be eating ice cream and playing on the swings. She could probably swing higher than Big J. Her father had told her that it was very important for her to talk to Big J; she had to think of something to tell her. She couldn’t think of anything, she just wanted to ask questions. Did she end up moving to England? Does she become an actress or a vet?
We sit on the swings eating ice-cream. I was hating the sugar, fake milk and the thought of how an animal had been tortured so that I could enjoy this ice-cream. Little J was appreciating the treat immensely. Both of us were wishing the ice cream would never end. I knew there wasn’t much time. I break the silence, “Is there something you maybe want to tell me?”
“You’re bigger than I expected.”
I laughed. “That’s right, you do become less short over the years.”
“Do you end up moving to England?”
“The possibility is still there but no I haven’t lived there yet.”
Little J’s eyes sparkled, “Did you become an actress?”
“A vet then?” she asks.
“No. Does that disappoint you?”
“Not really. Do we go on lots of adventures?”
I sighed, “Not enough of them, I’m always tired, but yes we do.”
“That’s funny, Daddy’s always tired too! Are the adventures like the ones in Famous Five? “
I laughed again, “I wouldn’t say so, no.”
There is a mission that needs to be accomplished and it’s not happening. We are both sitting on our own swing. I turn slightly to Little J and nudge her arm. Our swings are hardly moving. She is absorbed in the ice-cream.
I’m getting impatient, “Isn’t there something you need to tell me that you think I could have forgotten. Something that I need to know in life. I’m always confused if I’m doing the right thing or if I have forgotten who I am. There must be something you can think of to help me?”
Little me turns and looks up at me, she looks forlorn. “I can’t think of anything that I can tell you. You’re bigger than me, you should know more than me.” She forgets the ice-cream and looks sulky.
I feel guilty for pressing Little J. I have also failed at getting the information I wanted. I look up, the sky has turned from blue to grey and it’s covered in low-lying clouds. It looked as if it might rain. I’m tense. I change the subject, “Are you enjoying the ice-cream?” A chunk of ice-cream is about to drip off the cone. Little J uses her fingers to rescue the ice-cream into her mouth. She nods. The corner of her mouth turning up slightly. I can see she doesn’t really want to smile. She replies, “Mommy asks why I can’t always be good. I want to be good, it’s hard. Are you good now?”
I turn to her, “I try but it’s not easy. Remember how you told Mommy you can’t be an angel however hard you try? That’s how it is.”
The swing started to make me dizzy and the overdose on sugar wasn’t helping. I stood up and knelt in front of Little J’s swing. I tell her, “You have to accept that you can’t always be good. You are made of fire and ice, there are two sides to you. You need to embrace them both. You will keep feeling bad for being bad. That will hurt you. If you don’t want to see the bad in yourself, you won’t see it in other people. That can also hurt you.”
Little J gets up and takes my hand, it’s sticky from the ice-cream. “The swing is boring! I want to slide down the big slide. Will you catch me?”
I let her pull me to the slide but I don’t respond. We get to the slide and I climb up the slide behind her. I stand on the 3rd rung from the top of the slide. Little J is very slowly moving from a standing to seated position. I look around, I can see the cars and offices past the playground. The sun behind the scattered clouds create beautiful contrasts in the surrounding area. A slight breeze blows Little J’s hair. She is sitting at the top of the slide bracing herself to let go. She asks softly, “You aren’t going to catch me then? What if I fall?”
I take off my scarf and put it around her shoulders. “Even with no one to catch you, you will still slide.” I lean closer to her. Tears want to form in my eyes. “I love you very much. Both sides of you!”
The small little girl who was once me disappears. I reach my fingers reach toward my neck, my skin feels warm where the scarf was once was…
#DigiWriMo , Day15