Last night I dreamed that I was a child
Out where the pines grow wild and tall
I was trying to make it home through the forest
Before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees
And ghostly voices rose from the fields
I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path
With the devil snappin' at my heels
I broke through the trees, and there in the night
My father's house stood shining hard and bright
The branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms
But I ran till I fell, shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each other's hearts
I got dressed, and to that house I did ride
From out on the road, I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch
A woman I didn't recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door
I told her my story, and who I'd come for
She said "I'm sorry, son, but no one by that name lives here anymore"
My father's house shines hard and bright
It stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining `cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
taking people for granted and ... forgetting debts that cannot be repaid.
I don't know, maybe I am too eastern. Somehow.
Never mind I don't speak Chinese/ Cantonese.
Respect for elders, to me is still paramount.
I should .... she took me to montesouri every day for a year. To Common Entrance lessons.
Rearranged her schedule... because mommy asked. Mom didn't drive.
She put up money, without interest when my parents did not have the fees for university for my sister and brother.
So excuse me, if I think Ms and Mr big shots in foreign can't give a rats ass about the little old lady with the leaky roof and the cracked tile bathroom.
She's my mommy's sister. And she forgets now that mommy is dead.
I have decided that so long as my aunt is alive. I will not leave her side.
Despite whether or not she thinks she deserves more.... I do.
And she wont let me help her.
And she is all I have left.
Sometimes courage is tackling the devil you know, rather than the unknown.
I'm not really interested in anything that is offered locally, So I will look for something online, in the field I have chosen.
We make life choices, depending on the circumstances which apply at the time of the decision.
That's life.
Can the Brain be trained? COmparing the literature on the use of EEG Biofeedback/ Neurofeedback as an alternative or complementary therapy for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder ADHD.
She's just an old chinese lady. Well, technically she is 3/4 chinese, 1/8 African, 1/8 Scottish.
She didn't want an arranged marriage at 14.
She moved out on her own.
It wasn't easy.
Now she is old.
Trapped in her house, Lonely. Scared. Her fingers are curling, rheumatoid arthritis.
Last year around this time she fell down.
She was on the floor for four hours.
And .......... I realised, I am her. Very similiar.
Ironically, doing the same job, in the same institution.
Separated by 55 years.
And as I look at my future.
I .... I ... I
....... there is no alternative !#@
Now, UWI, won't even let me do the prerequisites to be a candidate for occupational therapy.
Sociology... Emile Durkheim... Suicide. Data from 1850.
There is wisdom in knowing when to give up.
But first I need to convince a few others to pursue the courses I dare attempt to make the argument, that a person trained to deal with the whole person, might be a necessary skill set in the health care sector.
Gestalt.... More that the sum of my parts
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
