The Other Side of Inertia - The Big Sheila begins

It’s that time again, the time when the momentum of the year has brought us to a place of inertia – do you hit 2012 with the same pace, do you move forward, faster harder, with a force that changes your current trajectory, or do you stand still in your grace?

I’ve chosen not to continue as I was, rather to break through my trajectory from last year and put myself back on course of what my hearts desire really was. In fact, I’ve made those popular new years resolutions way before the nigh of December.  You could say I’ve been cheeky getting in early like the Christmas decorations that start in October!

I’ve chosen to pursue my life long dream to start my own food business. I am The Big Sheila and I’ve started a company in this name! It will be my kitchen on line, creating, sharing, gathering and capturing all there is to our food experiences.  YOUR experience with me in your fridge will open in the first quarter of 2012, when I’m launching a local kitchen in Singapore and a Global kitchen for all our of foodie friends around the world.  The website is only in construction at the moment, but here is your link: www.thebigsheila.com

I’ve had many years where I’ve had so many lists of what I want to do, the ideals of what I wanted, the standards that I will up hold, the books I will read, lots of wonderful hopes but this year is different.  This year has become more real than those before.

I resigned from my big job in September, gallant in my intentions to the right thing by my CEO and what the business needed. I resigned so the business could hire more resource, cheaper than I to accelerate growth. With no job to go to, knowing I was a talented woman and confidant I was very employable, I took a bold step forward.  Yes, I had potential job offers coming in, especially so I could tell my mother I was going to be ok, but I wasn’t saying yes to anything.  I needed some time to put my feet on the ground. Consciously I knew I was doing the right thing.  Looking back now, I realize what I’d done was subconsciously create a new space for me to step into.

I’d given myself room to breath and put my feet firmly on the ground in order crystalize what I needed and what I truly wanted from my life.  I turned 38 in this process and it was the most motivating birthday I’ve ever had.  Yes, single, no marriage, no children but with a truck load of energy and dreams that I realized was only with me to make a reality.  I suddenly thought, “holy cow, I’m going to be 40 in two years and I never wanted to say what if!”.   There I was, just me, who I am as an individual, driven only by the passion of what I wanted to be, but never had the courage to before.

I escaped to Thailand after I resigned to a peaceful health retreat in Koh Samui called Kamalaya. It was a two-week put my feet on the ground and find my balance exercise. I took with me a bright red A4 book to write in. In the front pages I wrote words that opened my mind and may seem fluffy to some, but made complete sense to me.   For in my business world I’ve learned to always make a statement of intention, to articulate the end state, what is the end result and how are you going to get there?  So this is what I wrote ….

October 2011 - The transformation - Always be in your truth 

• ·      To live my dreams
• ·      To turn my dreams to goals
• ·      To turn my goals into successes
• ·      To see my success in abundance
• ·      I am awake and checked into my life
• ·      The creation of love, balance and prosperity is all around me.

Then on the next page I wrote –

I am The Big Sheila and this is my end game:

• ·      To be published hard copy for both my writing and food
• ·      On broadcast for my food
• ·      Recognized as a food line for The Big Sheila
• ·      Published for The Other Side
• ·      Financially secure and independent from these business ventures
• ·      It’s the 8^th November 2013, I’m 40 and my writing and food has given me financial independence and wealth.

Then I did a mind map with ME in the center – and branches around that were themes about my body, mind, love, friends, family and community.  It was a busy page with lots of thoughts and words to cement and visualize my path, a holistic map of my life to help me keep balance and focus on what’s important to me with my entire world, not just being successful in business.  Everything in your world on page, bright in front of you suddenly makes a big impact, let me tell you! Clarity.

I took loads of supplements, slept 10 hours a night, read four books, talked to some spiritual guru’s and spent time alone, only focused on finding my balance. I think I did this one successfully. I left Thailand knowing what I was going to do.  I’m sure that this balance has helped me to ensure that my new trajectory is on course for next year.  My axis are all aligned, as I shuttle through 12.01am, 1^st January I feel safe that my movement forward will be on course, solid, and only the trail blaze will be that of the burning off of the matter I need to leave behind in 2011.

And do you know what? Since I’ve decided to do this, I’ve had help for places I never dreamed of getting it from. I’m put it out there and said to the world, this is what I’m doing, and then like magic there are people, in droves, all there to hold my hand and lead me forward in fact! It’s truly inspiring, my floodgates have opened up entirely and I’m standing amazed at this point, utterly warm, totally confident in what I’m doing and a part of me there is wishing I’d only had the courage to do this sooner.

The other side of Inertia 

You may feel that will fuller belly’s, muffin tops and less vitality that we once had because of all that has consumed us in this year has slowed you down, name your poison or reason, therefore no need to change, just let the year tick over.  Stay solid in your current state, don’t move and don’t take action! This means you are happy with everything that you have. BUT, if you complain, you are a victim and you enjoy it.  So you decide.

Or you may be the feeling heavy, but you know that staying as you are is not an option, but how the hell do you transform your list to reality? Because you know you’ve done it before, make a list that is - and magically at 12.01, with a clink of a glass, a snog and a mass of hugs that you’re reinvigorated, for a moment you feel all new again and come March, it’s out the window!   Your inertia is still moving through the barrier, but your axis is off kilter, so you don’t move forward in the trajectory that you wished.  

Stop and have a good hard look at yourself. You know what you’re doing, you know what is “the same old stuff”, trust your gut, stop ignoring it and get off your ass and know that some simple shifts might help your axis to be more aligned.  I’ve said before, work out your patterns and look at the things you do over and over again – there is a reason you do them.  Open your eyes a little to yourself and hey, wear sunglasses if the hard truth is a bit glary.

Or you may be one of those lucky ones that love your grace and the ticking over of time just means another blissful day in the world of who you are.  Up and downs are normal and you’re ok with that. So here’s to another beautiful year of whatever life brings you.  I wish more of the same.

Resolutions or not, grace or unbalance – how many of us are truly living the life we wanted for ourselves? Dreams are can seem impossible to make a reality, granted - of course choices are made that contributes to paths that we take. But you know in your list, say you'll have open eyes as this year turns to 2012 - you all have choices. And that is the simplicity of your truth.

If I can be straight to the point, like I did, get in touch with what your passion is and what you’ve always wanted but didn’t know how to.  Then ask for help to make it happen. People are there like you never known when you’re passionate about what you believe in, let me give the mail!  This world is actually full of people that want to help others be successful and I’ve only just tapped into this source, but it’s there. It’s incredible, I’m open to it now, so it’s my wave to ride I tell you!

In my momentum of this closing year I want to share and capture my appreciation for those loved ones that have held my hand this far and reminded me of who I am and that Leopards don’t change their spots, they just get bigger! Meaning, my passion for this dream hasn’t changed, it’s just got bigger.  I’ve asked for help and no Christmas tree could compare to the gifts of support I’ve received from these people who are all firmly holding my hand through this journey.  It’s overwhelming.   No wonder my 2012 trajectory seems so certain right now!

My message to you is simple.  Make your list, but remember, have courage, find your balance, get off your ass, ask for help, talk to people and always believe in yourself.  Oh, and wake up, those dreams you have are here and now…. if you wish to launch. Get ready for a new trajectory! 

Happy New Year… and here’s to open skies and seeing our goals turn into successes!

Love love love,

TBS

XXX

 www.thebigsheila.com

The Other Side of Paying it Forward

I went back to Cambodia this year to build houses with the Tabitha Foundation, a charity that is set up to aid the communities in rural areas outside Phnom Penh.  There were 37 of us this year and we built 24 shiny new green tin houses.  Making it 56 houses in total over the last three years. We broke out into 5 teams, all with team leaders from the group of the year before to help the newbie’s and maintain what became known as “quality control”.

It’s a five day trip with many different elements to it - the first night we all meet at the famous Liquid Bar that is 50 meters away from hotel, a bar I wanted to rename “Fluid” because of my mental dyslexia. The first night is an orientation of sorts. Meet and greet, many beers, all of the “why are you here and how did you hear about this” stories. In actual fact, 99% of the people that go are from BT, because over the last three years the original clan were from BT and have done such a great job of spreading the word.  It was so impressive, there were people from Hong Kong, Australia, England, Scotland and Wales, and Singapore.  A mixed group of not many ties, but come the fifth day, there would a group of new friends that would be sad to say goodbye to each other.

The first night is a group bonding night. It’s warming and cute to see the eager new people talking it up about how fast they were going to build their green Mansions, making claim to be the first finished and wanting to be the winners, many-a-adult “Bob the Builders” knocking back beers!  I smiled like a mother would knowing we had some tough days ahead, but would learn only in their own time.

Day two is for the new of the group to understand the history of Cambodia. It’s an orientation at Tabitha where they hear about the graphic history of what the Cambodian people endured through the reign of Pol Pot. Then a surreal trip to both S21 the torture chambers and the Killing Fields, each to have a lasting impression on these fresh minds. I wrote about this last year. (http://thebigsheila.blogspot.com/2010/11/other-side-of-killing-fields.html)
 (http://thebigsheila.blogspot.com/2010/11/other-side-of-cambodia.html )

For old recruits that found that to be confronting and enough education in year one, chose to get involved in local life in a different way - Nigella style! We went to the food market and a cooking school to learn how they created dishes that we would enjoy on many a menu whilst there.

 Some of us wished we had this market in our own cities. It was magic. Bright colours, the greenest lush vegetables, fish flapping madly straight out of their morning bath. Tight packed lanes of produce, lined with the beautiful characters of the market woman whilst their men worked all day to bring these sumptuous local morsels to sell for what would be a single bus fair to us, each day. There were no used by dates here, nor conventional electronics like such things a refrigerator. Maybe we found it all a bit romantic, but it was spectacular.

Day three, after another night of our group bonding for drinks to share our days experience, getting to know each other better, the mood was a little bit more somber;  the reality and education process had set in.  At the crack of dawn we set off in the bus heading towards the community where our first lot of houses would be built.   All in gloves, some with kneepads or pillows to kneel on, new and old hammers, wall and floor nails in our pockets and tool belts to boot. Go Bob the Builder!!

It was extremely hot that day well into the mid 30’s.  Girls are on the floors, hammering hundreds of nails into bent and twisted bamboo and our thumbs just as much. The men were up 12-foot ladders brave and sure-footed reaching high enough to ensure the sharp edged sometimes lethal green tin was steadfast.  We all sweated buckets, there was nothing beautiful about us, most of us looking like we’d been dragged through a bush backwards by lunchtime. 

As team leaders, it was our duty to do quality control, with a gentle nudge from another leader, I picked my sorry ass off the floor, my back seized locked up almost from being bent over in the same position for hours, to check all was in upright, tight, flush and firm.  One of my team was a tall, strapping strong good looking lad, broad shoulders and full of gusto about being Bob on the first night, and as I turned the corner to ask how he was up that ladder, his face turned to me and told me the answer.  I felt like that mother again, seeing that look that I knew, I’d seen it the year seen – a face that shows you what that pain feels like, the surprise of it even, but showing the determination he felt to push through.

It's hard, hard work. Physically so exhausting, but mentally you don’t want to give up or look like you’re fledging because these families are with you, they are there - right beside you, trying to help hammer nails, or tact those killer tin sheets in so you can hit that final satisfying whack of the nail. Then as we high five each other, to say “way hay, we’ve done it that one's done", they’ve moved in and the house warming had begun! And guess what, we’ve still got three more houses to go….

My Bob the Builders were excellent. They hammered with a special beat to keep themselves going, they held each others ladders and swapped every time their hands would cramp to a point that they couldn’t actually release the hammer or the claw that their hand had become. And the ladies we relentless, hammering like no tomorrow every once in a while stopping, biting their lips because they wanted to scream "F-ME -ARGHHHHH".  After some hours and a combination of my thumb being flat and probably the loudest yelper,  I told them to just let it out, the locals really didn't know what the F bomb meant!

Some of the guys had cramps going all the way up their arms, but thank god for their inner strength because they never complained, when some-one yelled “that needs another nail up there”, there they were, up the ladder, shouting at their buddies to hold the strut on the other side so they could hammer the nail straight.  We built 16 houses on that first day. So proud. 

We all struggled; there is no shame in that, although we were all there with gallant intentions, it is impossible not to deplete our banks of raw energy doing what we were doing in that heat and condition. Commendable though is the mental determination to continue on by every single person in our group, no matter what. We just needed water every 30 minutes and someone to please feed us some sugar!

On day four, we went out again to finish the job. There was a real momentum amongst us now; we could all feel it, comradery at its best.  My team had an especially difficult shaped house, backed against some massive Cambodian Urns that meant we couldn’t get our ladders to the right places, so we fell behind.  Every one had finished by now, and we had the last house to do, so I approached the groups having a well-earned rest and drink to ask for some strong men please come and help us finish this last final house.  Within moments there were 16 people gathered, nailing floors, hoisting up green tin, helping each other to hold the struts, even the Cambodian men were helping me get the nails in the first time to the tricky bent bamboo, maybe they took pity or worried about me wasting nails because I kept flinging them left right and center as my aim was so rubbish by this point.  Kids were scurrying below the house where I sat as every nail flew like tennis kids fetching the balls on a finals match! It was real team work and very inspiring I tell you! 

Next to our final last house stood an old, dark dirty brown aged shack. Quite a contrast to our architecture.  An old man watched with his few dogs in toe, an old duck shedding her feathers with her babies cheeping and bouncing close by, not in cheer like you would hear them by some angelic pond, but in pain, for they would not last the week.  Then as I hammered, I actually noticed the wise old man. He struck such a chord and interest with me being the first elderly man I’d seen in Cambodia, considering the travesty of murders that had taken place with his generation.  Who knows what age he could have been, but purely by his presence he earned my respect and title of being wise to me as he represented a survivor.  

He sat observing us, expressionless on his perch, watching our group’s effort come to life. He didn’t move he sat stagnant for the 2 hours while we worked on his abode, staring at us.  Stoic.  Then, when more men turned up to finish the difficult bits, he rose, moving slowly, leaning on his cane for strength towards his green tower - curious or was he checking up, I wondered?  I stopped working for a moment to enjoy my knowing smile - he was now doing quality control, there was no doubt about it!  He was checking out original leader, Doug’s work. It made me gleam with a lovely sense of appreciation.  To be fair, Doug was limping with a knee brace up a 12-foot ladder; it was fitting of our wise man's stature.

When the team had finish and headed back to the base I stayed, I didn’t’ want to leave at this point.  I turned to him and raised my hands together in the pray formation to offer my blessing to him and his family.  His body didn’t respond immediately but he connected with my eyes - and after some great pause, I put one hand on my heart and raised the other to point at the house, cocked my head towards him and giving him a look like a child wanting her elder’s acceptance.  Finally, he rewarded me with a wide open gummy, wrinkled, beaming smile of gratitude and cocked his head to mirror mine.  I wanted to run and hug him but it would have been like disrespecting the Brigadier,  so I did nothing but returned the gaze,  my smile gripping my ears, heart racing, eyes warmed with tears, but desperately trying not to let them flow so not to embarrass my dear man. That was something, a very warm and fuzzy moment taking away every weight of my exhaustion into thin air.   What an honour!

The Other Side of Paying it forward

We all have tough lives, at some point we’ve all faced tremendous challenges, whether from our jobs, our families, past history with lovers or misfortunes that threw our balance off course.  Many of us wish for more, say “what if”, don’t follow through or just become complacent because we don’t have the strength to do what we hoped for.  So we look for distractions, we change jobs, change lovers, enjoy too many drinks, eat too much, or point out the negative before seeing what the silver lining really is from that experience.   But let me remind you, that these communities in Cambodia don’t have restaurants, top shelf alcohol in abundance at the local pubs or nightclubs to create a distraction. They don’t know what Xanax is or have psychologists to help with their historical pain or sexual abuse that the children suffer because their parents are so badly affected by what happened in reign of Pol Pot.  They have scrawny buffalo’s to sow their rice paddies, wooden leaking boats to catch their fish or wooden poles to fish from the pond that sits at the edge of their village where they defecate, and they now rely on charities like Tabitha and people like us to reach out to pay it forward.

37 people decided to give up their personal time and money to come to Cambodia to work tirelessly to help these wonderful people and pay it forward to give back and help others less fortunate than most of the people we are associated with in our daily lives. Actually, it’s not just the people that actually came on this trip we should thank it’s all the people that donated money and time to attend charity fund raisers and our plea’s for help.

My gorgeous friend Belinda Bowtell committed suicide this July and our family and friends decided to send money to this fund instead of sending flowers because she had wanted to be apart of this group since the day I returned from our last trip.  I had the great pleasure on behalf of all those that knew and loved her to mount a plaque in her honour – I chose to place it on the first house that my team built.

After feeling a real sense of pride doing this for her, admiring the gesture I’d just nailed, someone asked if I was ok, which is always the trigger, I had to walk away to be alone - I’d started to cry.  But you know what, if you have any spirituality or faith, you’ll understand what saying here, she was there with me that day, I definitely felt that. 

On our last day we left our families with a Blanket Giving Ceremony, a gift and tribute to each house that we have created. It’s very cute - we’d all became so attached to these people that have watched over us with joy and the lovely softness of their manner.  Flashes went off nonstop – it was like a red carpet moment, yet on a dusty road with sweaty red-faced foreigners all loving the connection with our people for the last time.  It was a special ending for our group  – we were rather proud, united, backing each other completely through the heat, pain and exhaustion, and sharing a great giggle and tight lingering hugs, no matter what level of sweat.

There may have been a bit of bravado and ambitious intentions on that first night’s bonding session at the Liquid bar, but I know there is not one person that was on this trip that was not emotionally affected by what they were able to give back to these people.  Each and every one of us has a story to tell about how we were impacted by this experience and I’m sure that even after the hang overs that we all got from enjoying ourselves each night - we’ll take moments while we’re back in our own stamping grounds, talking to our mates, to our families, or even when we catch our selves in the mirror just out of the shower, we’ll spare a thought for those people and wonder how their getting on in theirs. Who knows, they may even create new life for us to build homes for next year!

And as for our mixed group of many - we'd become one by the last night, we arranged a celebration for  kings, a feast at the local restaurant called "Friends" where they teach the local how to cook, delici-os-so!... ah, and then a treat of kicking up our weary heals, dancing the night away, a mass of group hugs, flashing camera's and WAY over the suggested amount of fun and giggles they suggested on the label! Lots of indulgent warm and fuzzy stuff that happens at the end of an experience like this, that can only be discussed on tour!

SO - Whenever you’ve been given something or experienced something that you have felt had a positive impact on your life, look around and see who else would benefit what your support or gesture of a simple hand.  Pay it forward, because as we all help each other out, the mutual reward in abundance is a very grounding experience for us all. 

If you’d like to be apart of this group and wonderful experience next year, get in touch. Our fund-raising starts in April 2012, I’m holding a WAX OFF again – it’s a fun event where we wax men for the charity of Tabitha!

It will be something you’ll cherish and talk about for years to come.

Lots of love to all and our new Cambodian friends

TBS

Xxx

The other side of a love that we all lost

In loving memory of Belinda Jane Bowtell, 24th October 1977 - 8th July 2011.




I lost a friend last week. She took her life, as lovers often do.  Lovers that are so passionate about the well being of others in their life, before their own.  Lovers that always care outwardly, but have never developed the tools or ever knew how to share what is happening inwardly to them.  

These lovers, carry so much on their shoulders. Completely willingly.  Because somehow, this has become their role in life.  But unfortunately for all of us, it hides so magnificently even their own inner thoughts, or turmoil.  For our lovers have no voice to share from what becomes a deeply lonely part of themselves.   That part, they hide so well.

The world lost a wonderful woman on the 8th of July 2011, because a concealed solitary depression took her to a place that she felt peace would finally only come in silence.   

In life, we meet so many people, we acquaint so many faces that we smile at, talk to, share stories, pass by, forget about, maybe see once every in while, because we choose to, or do out of habit, or keep because of normal conventional ties. We keep so many connected in nice friendly mate-ship.  

Then, there are those that we meet, that from the moment that we connect something deep with in us tells us that they are very special. A conscious feeling that from the moment we meet them, we know they’re unique. We feel that bond and we know the difference. Deep within. 

My friend Bel was one of those people to me.  She was one of life’s dancers. So outwardly strong. Pragmatic to the core, and always, always, shot straight from the hip and the heart. She called it how it was, consistently.  And I loved her for that. I thought I’d met my match, I felt that she was braver that I was. This woman, stopped me in my tracks; and I don’t say that about many people. 

I’ll never forget, the day she came boldly up to me when I arrived in Singapore, told me she knew who I was, loved my energy and thought I was someone she really wanted to know better.  Actually, she turned out to be someone I really wanted to know better. 

I lost my friend, and I struggle with the fact that I did because I didn’t see her darkness. I was blind through my own distraction. 

She was in love with her best friend.  Together for 11 years. They had what others, liked me, wished for.  They were a unit, a bond in absolute friendship, love and commitment.  They were best friends. She would always say, “you know, Dave could leave me one day, and life could end one day, but you know what, that’s life, and all I can say is that I’ve had the best life I could have asked for”. She was always so matter of fact. 

Her husband lost his love and soul mate to the silence of depression. 

Her family were real, honest, good people that loved unconditionally. They shared life’s ups and downs, family normality, laughter and joy. And work through the confrontation that of one of them was not balanced; but not the love that they lost. 

Her family lost their loving rock. Their golden haired girl. The one that brought they family together in a strength of will and love that made it all seem OK. 

Her friends and colleagues lost their axel of realness. An anchor for so many, not just me. A confident, for so many, not just me. The one that always stood up for what everyone wanted to say, but so few had the courage to. The one they would turn to for advice on how to keep going in a rough patch, a tough time, when something was confronting, or so challenging they didn’t know what to do. Or just a smile to keep you going.  She made it seem all OK.  In a very real way. 

Her friends lost their sanity point.  The source of positivity, and reinforcing answers; always at the right time. 

We had a very honest friendship. Well, I was very honest with her. Sharing many of my irreconcilable secrets.  The last lunch we had together, I asked her what was really happening behind her eyes?   She didn’t have the tools to talk. I knew this. But I could see a sadness.  I could see she was struggling, but felt like me, was not great at expressing it. I vowed that the next time we court up, we would only speak of her. She agreed, but always said, “you don’t want to hear about me?”.  We all have complications in our life that we struggle with, internalize to our determinant, and feel so afraid to share.  And no matter how significant or insignificant it is to someone else, it can be so isolating.   So scary to talk about. 

I started a new job this year.  I had the great opportunity of building a new business with a new team and she was the first person I asked her to come and work with me.  I wanted her to be my financial guru. God love her, she turned me down, because she and her husband Dave had a plan. They wanted to get pregnant early in 2011, and that just wasn’t in her moral code to start a new business knowing that.  

She got pregnant in February of this year. She had complications. Several morning sickness and horrific back aches and neck pains. She fell into a depressive state, and stopped working in March of 2011. She wasn’t coping. But even with medication and a trained psychiatrist, no one one could catch her silence.  

I’ve seen many emotional pregnancies, but I didn’t see this. 

I woke up at 6 am, the day she died. I felt her. I didn’t know why, but I reached to my IPhone and I immediately emailed her.  The message said, “where are you, I needed to see her”. 

The other side of losing the ones you love to suicide is finding acceptance. 


I don’t have the answers for depression. I’ve suffered from it myself. In 2004, after a very traumatic time in my life, I was in a very muted place. I remember, being the life and soul of the party in my London days, but driving home one day from work, in my BMW 5 series, thinking, “it wouldn’t hurt if I drove into that pole right now”.  A sunless, lonely, silent place that I didn’t have the courage to share with anyone for years later. But this is not my story, and that’s another blog, and through a lot of work, I have come to a very healthy place in life. But I know, as many do, about the depth of that silence place. 

I’m a bit like Bel, trying to find the answers, trying to be pragmatic in the face of adversity. Yet, suffering from a huge, irreconcilable case of denial,  I set off to research why this could happen to my friend.  5 months pregnant. Jumping off a balcony.  Leaving her lover and her best friend, sleeping in their bed. Carrying their unborn child, not knowing the sex of the baby, they called it, “Lentil Bean”.  Opening the balcony doors, standing there in the humid Singapore air, completely numb.  Holding a balcony rail, standing eleven stories high, in silence, committed to what she was doing.  Then, in the darkness of a starry night, at 4.30am, dressed in her pj’s, still wearing a maternity bra, she climbed over the rail and flew into her silence.  

Her husband talks of a hole in his chest, that he has no tools to know how to fill. I felt something so different. 

What I’ve discovered, and by no means is this the reality of Bel, but a possible reason; through researched information available by doctors published on the Internet is that there was an alarming number of pregnant woman that had committed suicide at 5 months. They had suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome before a pregnancy, then as a linkage to this pre-determination of self, suffered extreme chemical imbalances when they become pregnant. 

It helped me with my pragmatic acceptance. Or denial. But my chest, trying to connect to Dave’s hole he spoke of, was still numb. 

Her Auntie and Grandmother died late in 2010 in quick succession.  She was incredibly fond of them, didn’t show many this pain, but shared with me that she wasn’t coping with the lose these loves from her life. But in her true trooper style, so would so quickly divert, change the topic, and then say, “She was ok. She was fine.”  I hate that expression, “I’m fine”.

I spoke to Dave two days after she passed, and told him how depression has no arms or legs. There is no voice in this place. I shared my research with him, but I don’t know if he heard me, or was even ready to hear this? We all deal and process in such unique and varied ways. Time is not linear now.

The funeral was held in Melbourne on the Monday 19th July. A chance for all that could make it to see her face again. An unforgettable image of her hair of gold, her smile, shiny so bright and so wide, with her alluring brown eyes. I know she connected with every single soul in that room.

Was anyone in that room ready to say good bye to this woman that they loved? No, not at this time. No one was ready to lose this love. As I watched her white casket , lower slowly into her grave, into the earth, my face screwed up in agony.   It was quite there at the burial, it was in our silence that we all dealt with that moment. And then, she was gone. So quickly. 

The challenge of reconciliation.

I stood, watching her husband Dave stand at the edge of her grave, in his silence with his lost love. The tears that fell on my cheek, were the heaviest I’ve ever felt.  I too was not ready to say goodbye.  

The last communication I had with Bel, was me sending her a text in May, self indulgent in a busy workload, telling her, “I missed her, and I needed to see her and she how she was”. She responded saying, “this pain ruining her life”. 

My response, was that “I’ll get through this launch and I’ll come and see you, hold on”. My business launch was 5 days later.  I never saw her again. 

I went straight to Tullamarine Airport straight after the funeral to fly back to Singapore.  A 45 minute solitary taxi ride, dressed in black, I broke down.  Every part of me collapsed. I lost it. I felt shame for my distraction of not being there. My chest was not feeling a hole, but a burning inferno of pain.  I felt a pain in my chest, a tightness, a heat that I hated. I couldn’t breathe. I felt choked. My eyes burned, my heart thumped through my dress, I wanted to tear the fabric off my body. I wanted to feel blame for the loss of my beloved friend. I felt selfish, I felt horrible, I felt blind because of my own desire.  Irreconcilable pain. 

There is no blame, but there is the very confronting process of acceptance that everyone needs to go through. Shock, denial, anger, sadness, acceptance. But I do know that guilt is cohesive, and will only hinder life from moving forward. And I know this for certain,  our dear friend would have never wanted that for anyone that she loved. And has lost. 

I’m sure, many like me, feel like they have lost their source of truth, but are so devastated that they never really knew, or could be there to help hers. 


I, nor anyone else, could reach the darkness she felt. And as much as I really hate this expression,  “it is what is is”.  She had no arms or legs to reach out. She has found her peace. 

There is a saying that I shall close with: “Those that shone so bright, don’t shine for as long”. My friend Belinda Jane Bowtell, you shone in my life for a short but wonderful time. And the hole that we feel for you - one day, at some point, it will shift, as you would wish.  

No matter how many people you pass, or hold in your inner sanctum, please care for them. As much it is the role of some to protect gracefully, they also need nurturing too.  So, please; stop to ask ask of those that care so much for you unconditionally, how they are, and how they are feeling in life? Then ask again. Then, in three months time, ask again. Then just observe. Then, silently, reach out again, in your own un-confrontational way.   Because, you know what? They might not have the tools to tell you at any of these points, but it might  just be enough to thaw the silence.


It could just cure the deafness of depression, slowly. And one day, like it did for me, they may be brave enough to reach out in their own way. 

Through your love, you may help someone feel reconnected to the lose of love they have drowned in, for what ever reason.  

Hold the hands of the people that you love. 


All my love, 

TBS

xxxx

and..... I hear her saying, get busy living.

You’ll always be with me Bel. I will always love you. 

The other side of the 50’s Flop

This year, I decided I was going to ditch the 30 somethings lads, and try dating men with some know how! I was going to go head strong into the 50‘something territory and give that a whirl; what I like to class as dating the silver fox!

I love men with know how, but it’s got me thinking and interested that it’s actually a contradiction as well. And I’m wondering how many men in the 50something bracket have a blue funk about will they get it up? 

The silver fox knows how to play that game, he is smart, and the master at it. He’s charming, gentle, yet provocative in a really sexy, subtle way. He is the thinking man and he too likes the ritual, it makes him feel strong and manly and of course, he enjoys us playing like we have no idea what he's up to and then at the right moment, fall into his whim, doey eyed and.... ready.

Like most dating rituals there is a process that happens. The man spots his woman, gives her his sign; that generally starts with a conversation pertaining to getting to know her. She then in return gives him the signal that she’s interested, but will also communicate, in her own clever way, her requirements. Those things that she will desire for him to do in order to get her into bed.  It’s wonderful to watch. Just like clock work, he will set off, toute de suite, putting into place all that he needs to do to make his plan work, and hopefully his John Thomas too.

The other side of know how is the dreaded 50’s flop.  You have all heard people talk about how woman in their late 30’s look scared, ooze desperation, as the time clock is ticking, and their faces show it. Well, I’ve come to a realization that there is also a look that these 50‘something men all have too. It’s a fear! An apprehension of, if she falls for it tonight and I don’t have to work any harder to get her into bed, will it rock on?

As the years pass, things change with men and sometimes the results are not pretty. Not even when a woman’s boobs sink well below her rib cage, and she’s gone all native and can self-plat, could ever be compared to that of a man that can’t get it up! No thrusting engine, no Choo-Choo steam, no big bright red Thomas the Tank Engine head on! Nup, can’t ram home, can’t get started and ends up just relentlessly trying to push soft putty into something that should only house silky smooth contraptions or a rock hard - choo-oooo!

Ladies, so let me tell you, instead of having to cajole him and tell him how hot and gorgeous his John Thomas is, save yourself the headache and desperate hope for lock jaw, and get out there and get your man some of this love drug called Cialis. It’s like the sister of Viagra, yet less intrusive for the those that need a break on the old passion paddock to catch their silvery breath and reconcile the anxiety produced because a leggy blonde has just blown their mind...literally. 

I’d recommend Cialis over Viagra any day, it will keep your silver fox going for 72 hours. You will still need foreplay and a bit of hub-bub to get the silver hairs on his chest to stand up on end from a nudge and wink down below, but that engine will be a-hummin' now quite differently from before, and trust me, he’ll know it instantly.   And then, yes, he’ll be ready to show you exactly how he know’s it’s done.   

I say, a modern woman these days should not only carry a condom, she should also have a stash of these pills in her purse. That silly look of “father my child” will be instantly abandoned for something more permanent like Meg Ryan’s Cheshire-cat grin from “When Harry Met Sally”. And then ladies please, sit back and watch, just observe the attention. Then grin to yourself when you see how many woman under their breath are saying, “I want what she’s having”. 

You never know when you’ll find that gorgeous silver fox coming out of the shadows; or maybe you will know exactly when he's coming, if you take my advice? But I warn you, you may fall completely punch drunk by this little process, so keep your doey eyes open.  Nevertheless, who doesn’t love being treated like a princess by a man who can beat his chest loud and proud? He's feeling all manly and you get treated like a beautiful woman - the chemistry is so unbelievably sexy.

Choo-oooo!!

TBS

xxx

PLEASE NOTE: WARNING : Only use these drugs at your own risk, or if you have consulted a doctor. And please read the safety instructions. If your silver fox has a heart condition, you should know the health parameters, otherwise if could be your last Cheshire cat grin for a while. Check out the link below.

http://www.cialis.com/Pages/safety.aspx

TBS supports Expat Woman. www.expatwoman.com