Earth: The Movie

Lilly of the valley ring out all along the river bank as the daffodils nod their heads like jaded heavy metal fans to a new beat but young tree branches sway back and forth like teenagers at their first gig. The sun shines and paints the sky in a blue of 50 shades and clouds gather like sheep in the fields. River waters run past hearing stories and songs from the birds to bees as it goes by but never stop long enough for the endings. Generation after generation this is the way the movie went, well until now that is.

Ragged men and plastic women walk on by oblivious to the songs and stories around them. For theirs are not those of their ancestors but ones repeated from words and pictures seen and heard on black boxes; as false as a rabbit laying chocolate eggs and lies spinning in quicksand. As young cyborgs cling to handheld blocks with screens to create their own tales and music that are just as false and fake as those from the black boxes. Creating new worlds but do not know the script of fate is already written.

How long until the songs of nature are replaced forever with auto tuned cover versions by the cyborgs and will anyone notice in a decade or more? Pictures of their ancestors are mere images stored in clouds in cyberspace but nobody dares look at the sky’s clouds as chemicals fell poisoned many. Stories that nobody alive now remembers how as it was before, rewritten and spun so many times now so are accepted as truths and history of this planet but not the one many fought and died to try to preserve for them.

The world is always changing as the Earth spins on its axis with few prepared to pole dance at the north or south. Human song is a symphony by a group of composers but not the only one on the planet. cats and dogs, flowers and forests, sing too, just listen. There are stories written down by the birds and bees to the trees and mountains engraved in an ink that is not invisible. Humans stop trying to direct and act this movie, it’s not the role for us, grab the popcorn and enjoy the journey to the fullest.

© Fi S. J. Brown

The animals of mental health

Winston Churchill and I have a few things in common- we were both born in the United Kingdom on the 30th of November and have experience of depression, to which he likened to a black dog.

To me a black dog is an interesting analogy for depression; tears fall from my eyes do leave my face feeling like it has been licked all over by a dog and equally I feel like curling up into a ball to do nothing as the world is a cold and dark place I wish to retreat from. However, unlike a dog that wants attention, the last thing I feel like doing when depressed is having attention from a group of people but a reassuring hug every so often does. When depression hits, I try to think positively of the good people and things that exist at this moment in my life, but find myself saying but do they really want or need to hear I am not coping? Some days I wish I could give them good news, yet all I seem to find is the negative and think it is better to say nothing at all.

For many that do not feel the impact of mental health or seen someone close to the battle it, they cannot understand how we look well on the outside, yet inside came be feeling so bad that we may wish to take our own lives. Some even believe as it is in the head it equals being crazy and will do stupid things as read in the media or see on TV/movies how mental health patients are and as such should be locked away from others as may kill them in a rampage instead. I have realised this is because mental health is a masterful magician making us appear to be a fluffy pet rabbit on the outside, but on the inside feel like an old rusty ornament from years of neglectful abandonment. For those it impacts it is sometimes hard to work out which we really are, is the fur others see nothing more than a mask or is the rusty one a truer reflection of what we have experienced through life? Is there any way to find the truth?

The journey of life is hard to do alone, family are not always there and maybe even the origins of why we feel as we do from abuse or other toxic actions. We also try to make friends and even partners, people we want to share the journey with and would hope they love and respect us as we do them. When we let anyone close it can be hard for any of us, let alone when battling mental health as scared of how they will react. For when they realise we are not the fluffy bunny at all, feeling our fur disappearing in front of them and that first glimpse of rust. It can may may make them run away at any moment, scared through lack of understanding or amusement that we hear voices to survived a suicide attempt. Others may try to help, but feel powerless to do so and scared to say the wrong thing around us. Which all leave us feeling naked and lost.

What can we do? First how about oiling the rusty looking rabbit? Try it, as to those of us with mental health conditions it is like giving us love and support, as it help us to feel we can carry on again today and maybe even tomorrow too. Equally, it may look like rust but give it a polish as that becomes a form of reassurance and comfort that someone else cares about us. With oil and polishing we discover that we are not rabbits at all but flowers; all of different shapes, sizes, colours and textures that with support can bloom, being whoever and/or whatever we want to be. Collectively we become like bouquets as cluster together and showcase what makes each other so special, rather than a single flower in a bud vase.

Even if do not understand mental health, how our minds can make us think so negatively about ourselves and/or life, do not let your ignorance be an excuse. Ask and learn from those that it impacts not judge and mock, as may find more people than you realise are fighting this battle. Remember appearances can be deceptive, as do not tell all we have experienced in life to get to this point and how hard every day life can be. Today maybe hell with torrential rain and grey skies, but tomorrow can be blue skies and sunshine, nothing lasts forever. Equally, the reverse can happen, what someone may mock and laugh at today may come back to haunt them tomorrow, unable to cope in the relenting rain as did not learn from before. So lets work together to end this stigma, supporting each other, being a best friend that is loyal like the dog and gnaw away at problems like the rabbit with a carrot.

© Fi S. J. Brown

flowers

 

 

 

The Last Rose

She is now the solitary rose of summer,
All alone in the evening sun’s lonely slumber.
Her friends now gone are but memories,
Only footnotes captured in someone’s pictures.

Never to become part of a wedding bouquet,
But made that garden special every single way.
Hearts and souls of many she has touched,
With a fragrant pale pink sweetness they loved.

Counting the days till all her petals will fall,
As the trees’ leaves change for the autumn ball.
Each one a tear over another summer gone,
Will anyone remember her as the world carries on?

© Fi S. J. Brown

Nature and us

The sea – watching the waves going in and out calms our hearts to the same beat, which untangles the brain waves and recharges the soul.

The hills – from the distance they look so high but once climbed the view is incredible, like the reward for overcoming whatever what has hurt us.

The forests – full of trees large and small that hug us as we walk among them, which sets of birds flying past to take away our woes far away.

The flowers – a variety of colours and types, which no one is truly different but neither are they truly unique, equally none are perfect, like us.

The soil – best walked on barefoot and let its nutrients absorb into and moisturise our skin, replenish what a moisturiser filled with chemicals cannot.

The seeds – pick up two or three to plant ideas in our minds, not of what will make us money but bring us contentment, all starts small, like us.

The unseen – the mircoorganisms we share this world remind us how even in a crowd it can feel empty and all have hidden talents, start exploring.

© Fi S. J. Brown

View from my window

Listening to the sound of my neighbour cutting his grass, it is like a metallic bee hovering over flowers, which duck in fright that it may sting them not share their pollen with the others. The air is filled with the grass’ scent, an air freshener that joins the clouds floating on by, together they sing a strange duet that few seldom stop to hear. The blue skies overhead watch over the land like gods and goddesses from mythology, joined together hand in hand and led by the Jupiter of the ocean in the sky. Finally a beacon comes out to give the touch of hope to all that not only see her but let her gentle touch in reassurance to those that need it.

© Fi S. J. Brown

The Springtime Opera

After being awoken by a kiss from a Prince Charming of bumble bees, the cherry blossom blooms in pink and white across the land. Singing their duet that in turn wakes up the northern world to spring, from the first act of the grand opera that is nature’s own ring cycle. Climaxing as it falls like a spring snow onto both pavements and roads. Each white petal glides slowly down as though a majestic swan, and each pink petal as though it were confetti from a wedding.  Like tears, they are swept into gutters, and their relationship is over…well at least for a few months. Thus the curtain falls and ends act one.

Act two opens with the lambs’ chorus, to which they dance around the fields among the daffodils. The lambs are like children and their white coats mark their innocence, as spring’s story is one celebrating birth and new life. The daffodils along with the tulips and bluebells when touched by the wind sing and dance their songs. Not forgetting the biggest diva of Planet Earth has to sing her aria, such is the human way, thinking their own song is the most important element of them all. Finally, the days gradually get lighter at night, these are the notes of nature’s songs getting longer till act two ends.

© Fi S. J. Brown

Image

The Bumble Bee’s Tale

The humble bumble bee must rank as one of the most vilified creatures on Earth by humans. As children we are told to be careful not to be stung by one, yet they only do so because it is frightened or protecting the colony – most of us would lash out if someone tried to attack or those we love too! They then suffer the tragedy of dying for protecting those they love, because a mammal’s skin is so thick it can remove the stinger back out and it’s organs are torn out in stinging. It would be like the police shooting us for defending our homes as we attacked an intruder to our homes.

Then their role in pollinating plants is often underestimated what they bring to us. Many of us love to see flowers blooming around us and almost around in the spring air but do we ever thank the bee’s role in this sight of colourful beauty? Probably not. In the UK it has been estimated that we have lost 97% of our flower-rich grassland since the 1930s. Furthermore, bees account for 80% of all insect pollination of plants at least 30% of the world’s crops and 90% of our wild plants to thrive due to pollination from them. That is like us humans taking over 80% of the world, using at least 30% of the available animals a food source and killing 90% of the wild animals as do not bring us any “benefits” (i.e. food or companionship).

You may think that last comparison is silly or crazy, but is it so far out? When we have human greed by materialistic goods increasing, a new iPhone or designer handbag having more importance than hills and rivers. We want to put a price on everything we can see or hear. In the UK alone two species have become extinct in the last 80 years and others have declined dramatically. Maybe it’s about time we thanked them for their help in giving us peas to strawberries, rather than reaching for pesticides or growing genetically modified crops so do not appeal to insects before they are no more and once we saw dancing with the spring flowers.

© Fi S. J. Brown

 

Image

Soothe my soul

I went to the Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh, yesterday afternoon, a place that really helps to soothe and calm my soul. The flowers vibrating in the wind sounded like Tibetan singing bowls, all different tones to match the different species and colours, making my every step like a mediation. The trees gave me hugs like a parent to a child, with their overwhelming height and branches so long, I felt loved and safe in their arms. Watching the animals, birds and squirrels, they took my worries in their wings or up trees far away where they could no longer hurt me and stop me dwelling. The river that runs throughout whispered to me I must relax; stopping to watch her flow felt like a massage touching my every part, and by the end her rhythm had become one with my heartbeat. 

Image