Saturday, March 02, 2019

I have stories from every day. I reflect on them but can't always share here. This one I can ...........




I have stories from every day. 

I reflect on them but can't always share here.









I meet people every day.
They feed me in many different entry levels.

I learn more than I give.
I always give.
I always learn.
I never give advice.
I ask a lot of questions.

This
Below
Is ........................

A the end of a training week-end, 
I often aim to intensify participation.
If you have ever attended one of my facilitated sessions - 
you will know that I have massive involvement -
reflection - participation - motion ...... changes emotion.

Here is one example.
Midst every contribution .............
this guy composed a poem and read it out 
to everyone in the group - about 20 of us.

Have a read & reflect yourself afterwords.
Maybe it will trigger you?
Maybe you can see it as a mirror 
to stimulate your own learning?
About yourself?
How you want to change ?
To be?
To become?

BHP


*Picture a child filled full of feelings unable to fathom
Being treated like a social leper and as invisible as a phantom
Let me start the years 1995 when my freedom was supposed to be written
But being invisible on the roads in my home my freedom weren’t given
So had nothing handed
Took nothing for granted
Took nothing from no man 
At the age of ten I had to be my own man

So when freedom weren’t given I had to take it
Mums favorite vase because I starved for attention I had to brake it
But my life relating something like a playground
A load of round and rounds 
A lot of messing around
Craving for the foundation to keep my feet firmly on the ground
And smiles seen as expensive luxuries so it’s cheaper to wear a frown

From curried chicken and homemade macaroni and cheese cooking in mums kitchen
Always being told not to be no one’s slave the times are over for cotton picking
A life without god so bibles weren’t anywhere to be found
Always getting the belt, shoe anything she could get her hand around
Just for play fighting with my siblings and one of us was loud

I got shouting instead of a kiss and a cuddle
I simply feared saying something wrong so I just stared and mumbled
But that was just the methods of a heartbroken mother
All because of my cheating father
We thought we were bad but it was simply because 
being faithful why couldn't he be bothered
So after him getting kicked out by mama
Instead of him getting all the consequences we got the drama

The saying goes what goes around comes around 
so why did It seem like I always got the karma
Maybe she wanted to see me go mad but why me
Could it be I behaved just like my daddy

The life of a single mother bringing up three boys must have been cold
Lonely because none of the hopeless dads got involved
Just left her with three boys and expected her to cope all on her own
When I saw how strong mum was I had no reason to moan
She had a well paid job raised three guys on her own

But at the age of 14 I changed I yearned for articulation
Truly believing I was designed for sophistication
Suit to suit long winded conversation
Not to be used as a mere tool to get money from my dad 
“mums way of manipulation”

The madness was surreal and often lead to frustration
Simple stuff like playing basketball felt like a vacation
It was only then when I felt some sort of relation
That’s why I’m undefeated and to beat someone effortless regulation
No matter what situation
This was my freedom this was my emancipation
Just like when America signed the independence proclamation

Benefits of being invisible no one sees you so 
there’s no conversation because no one’s looking
My dad weren't one of my hero’s
But he was cooler than seven sub zeros
He showed me the art of cooking
But it was my mother when my grades slipped that gave me the ass whooping
But I knew It was her way of saying I was loved
whether from my Mum, my Nana, or my Grandpa joyfully watching from above

When it came to the age of seventeen there were girlfriends
My poor heart was never on the mend
How many times I thought it was meant to be
Thinking that I could once be L.O.V.E.D
Well at least be in L.O.V.E
But sooner turned like an unripe apple being taken to early off a tree
Just like my childhood which brought along more misery
Now tell me a person’s childhood is as happy as can be
And I’ll show you no matter sibling or in a relationship LOVE weren’t meant for me

But never the less
After being made homeless
And had suffered so much stress
I found the YMCA
Although my first perception of it was gay

But then realising they were helping to change these
Generation of babies
who ended up in there because of abuse, drugs, or 
even because their parents were lazy

Always being told they love me loads
I’m so glad now I got involved
So now I can truly say behold
A once invisible child stands before you both brave and bold
They gave me the ball and showed me the goal
Slam dunk! 

Thanks YMCA for taking me out of that alluded zone
For a love you have shown I would never have known
And within Christ I would never have grown
So tell the world YMCA makes adults out of lost children
Thanks YMCA, Leon, Evan, Jim, all of you for listening and
especially Pip Wilson.  
Thank you



BHP