She pushes up against, the frozen solid ground.
Where snow and ice exist, all about and all around. Nature’s onward cycle, just gently begins again. With little seeds so hidden, deep within the den. Such dainty stems unfurl, enclosed within the kernel. Where life force does emit, jumping any frosted hurdle. No obstacle too great, for one with such a will. Searching ever upward, to break cold and crusted sill. Despite the stacking odds, there is a simple way. For drop of white, to crack clean through, and sway. Aligned with universal force, progress is slow but sure. Amazing for one so fine, delicate and demure. No chance the Earth does have, with its winter soil. With such determined might, such struggle and such toil. The self it needs to actualise, to bloom above the surface. To strive to be the one, to flower first in springtime furnace. Such spirits it does lift, for brighter times to come. Clumps of dancing belles, sing with hearts of joy and fun. Much pleasure to be had, sat amongst the drift. In barren times and richness, abundance and plain thrift. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.
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I’m grateful for the sunshine, I’m grateful for the rain.
I’m grateful for the trials of life, the pleasure and the pain. I’m grateful for this little bloom, of white and yellow flower. That brightens that of winter day, longest night and darkest hour. I’m grateful for its healthy spirit, that beams through muddied lawn. That keeps on growing, through wettest morn and that of coldest dawn. I’m grateful for the buzzard call, that soars on upward flight. Despite all the mocking crows, that tempt it into fight. I’m grateful for the faithful dog, with wagging tail and ball. That comes to lighten any mood, give joy and moment stall. I’m grateful for the ever present, for the time that’s here and now. For the chirp of raven rook, song of tit and moo of cow. I’m grateful for the traffic noise, the constant buzz of car. Distracting sounds from nature’s calm, stretching thought from near to far. I’m grateful for the passage by, of the tinkle of a bell. For the blue sky up above, for heaven joined with earth and hell. I’m grateful for the peace I find, of dropping into zone. At one with which is all around, I no longer feel alone. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. Living In An Open-Hearted Way Can Bring Both Sunshine And Showers As I walk along my chosen path to help people establish the essence of who they are and overcome the effects of bullying to find their true identity, it is necessary for me to continue to place one foot in front of the other on my own odyssey too.
We are being encouraged all the while in the 21st century to be open-hearted, authentic, honest and true to our nature in our individual quests. It is a courageous route for us all to take because in doing so we are being prompted constantly to embrace and show our vulnerability. In our own hero's journey, where we triumph over adversity, we expose ourselves in order to build rapport and trust with any person that we wish to work with who recognises their own story of suffering in our sharing too, this is our triumph. However, the exact same action that we carry out in speaking our truth in order to attract new friends towards us can also invite old foes that might wish to seek out and exploit our defencelessness for their own gain. They might be notable abusers, bullies and other critical influences that we have experienced in our past who continue to try and keep us small or indeed quiet for their own benefit or justification. In sharing our story with the world we have to be ready for this type of scenario too, for if we aren't fully prepared for it, we will continue to absorb, collapse and descend back into the realm of adversity, very quickly. Both forces are at work in the universe constantly to help us develop and evolve towards where we need to be as human beings. When we start to bring awareness to all aspects of the situation that we encounter we can start to see the overall divine plan for our lives and the state we need to be in, between triumph and adversity, if we are to keep an even keel within our lives, one of serenity and peace. Recently I have chosen to share more of my 'overcoming the effects of bullying to find my true identity' story in order to hopefully connect with other people that might be continuing to experience this situation in their own lives too. I wasn't however prepared for the storm that was about to present itself when my truth started to permeate in the direction of my own immediate family. Over the past month it has felt like I have been very much walking between the eye of the storm and the tempest that has then come to surround me. Many people have indeed expressed their admiration in my direction for my very brave account of what it was like for me to grow up within my own home, at school, college and then in the workplace, all within a bullying type environment, when I chose to express myself both through poetry and film as part of Anti-Bullying Week back in November. This is when I felt I was in the eye of the storm and completely in the flow of life, stepping forward on my path. Conversely however, completely unknown to myself at the time, my comments were also being received in a very negative, fearful way by some of the people that have been closest to me in my 50 year existence upon the planet. In fact they found my statements to be most shocking and hurtful as their version of events, their own truth, was being perceived quite differently to that of my own. Here, the thunder, lightning, downpours of rain and howling gales have been difficult to experience once again. It has been necessary for me to batten down the hatches for a while, an old age survival strategy of mine. However, with all the personal development I have done on myself over the years, together with the support systems I now have in place, both with regards to individuals and communities in my network, I have been able to continue to stride onward towards my goal. In the past I would have felt totally uprooted by this experience when the hurricane has come to hit, this time around however I have been able to weather the storm and come out the other side perfectly OK, grounded, centred with my roots, trunk and branches all still fully intact, I can still stand tall within the forest. This primarily is because I have been far more aware of what has been going on around me when the winds have started to pick up this time around. I have been able to take my share of responsibility within the events that have occurred, I can perhaps see now where other people are coming from and what their angst is all about connected to me and my living situation. I have been able to accept this scenario for what it is and not tried to change the process that has been instigated, instead I have let the necessary healing start to take place. I have released my attachment to any outcome and let go of any expectation as to what the final result of all this will be, I have just acknowledged that it is all taking us somewhere to where we all need go. Things are a lot better I believe as a consequence because of this change in mindset. At this moment in time I am inspired by the words of Oscar Hammerstein II and his song that he wrote in 1945, 'You'll Never Walk Alone', which also happens to be the anthem to my favourite football club, Liverpool FC. I am choosing to recount all the words here as I believe they bring hope at this time to us all. You'll Never Walk Alone. When you walk through a storm Hold your head up high And don't be afraid of the dark At the end of a storm There's a golden sky And the sweet silver song of a lark Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed and blown Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone You'll never walk alone Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone You'll never walk alone Indeed if your story in any way matches my own, you will always have me here in support of yourself in your corner, if you choose to connect with me in this manner. You don't have to walk alone through the storm you are encountering we can do so very much together. And as I believed might happen when I originally wrote this blog, all of these events were leading to a place where I could experience the next stage of my personal development journey and gain the maximum amount of learning from it in the new information that was being provided to me from the coach I was working with. Indeed as you approach the Visibility Gateway so all of these things will blow up into your face to try and keep you small, back where you have always been, but you need to summon up the courage to step through the storm you are being greeted with in order to find that 'golden sky' and indeed 'the sweet silver song of the lark' because in my experience they do in fact exist when the clouds start to dissipate. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below. Guided or misguided, we’re here in this space.
It is what it is. Totems and omens, aplenty in this place. It is what it is. Dead ends and roundabouts, traffic and noise. It is what it is. Litter and pollution, tin cans and toys. It is what it is. Long looks and stares, as questions abound. It is what it is. What are you doing there, eyebrows are frowned. It is what it is. Who are you to speak, to voice your concern. It is what it is. To care for the planet, with heart and discern. It is what it is. Frustration, regulation, cut back, restraint. It is what it is. Progress thwarted, travel constraint. It is what it is. A blanket of virus, knee deep in mud. It is what it is. Missed opportunities, dreams that go thud. It is what it is. Sunshine and showers, rain and rainbow. It is what it is. Strive as we do, to get back in the flow. It is what it is. Uncomfortable being, a pain in the bum. It is what it is. Praying for redemption, some hope to come. It is what it is. Magpies, golden stags, offer a lift. It is what it is. Droplets and downpours, no shelter a gift. It is what it is. Sodden prose now, ink splodged, no write. It is what it is. Still stepping forward, carrying the fight. It is what it is. A horse neighs a whinny, more sure of the end. It is what it is. We wonder what’s next, what life to be penned. It is what it is. Car horns do sound, it’s time for the off. It is what it is. Acknowledgement of self, acceptance aloft. It is what it is. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. My Second Parental Home One of the paradoxes of my bullying story is that I actually feel somewhat blessed to have been able to live my life in fairly comfortable accommodation throughout. In these places nature has always been at my beck and call and I have felt well looked after, nurtured and nourished, even over-nurtured at times too perhaps.
For sure, I consider myself to have led a privileged life, one where I have been perhaps spared the ravages of reality and an ordinary existence thus far by sheltering within my parental home for a period of time that has far exceeded the perceived norm by others. This however has led to its own pitfalls and problems, living within my own comfort zone and also finding envy at every turn from peers, contemporaries and dare I say relatives too. I have come to realise that being privileged or being in a privileged position is not necessarily a privilege. The shaman exists on the edge of society, where he or she is able to view community from the periphery, upon the margins. I have always lived on the edge of town. I have felt most at home with clear access to fields, grassland, moorland, woods and shoreline. It is here that one can properly commune with nature and start to see where the social models we live under are failing, or going wrong altogether, and hence the apparent reason for me to want to remain separate from all of that. Together with that there is the 'Angry Shaman' archetype that believes because he or she, in previous lives, would have been looked after as part of the community, cared for, in exchange for his or her services, that in some way shape or form that ought to be happening in the here and now today. Instead of which in a modern world things don't exist in that way at all and a monetary exchange is now required in order for the shamanic practitioner to remain sustainable him or herself. This can be a difficult thing to get one's head around as a contemporary medicine man. My living accommodation, rather sadly, has for a long time been viewed by my friends and foes as a place where a great deal of projection can be placed upon it. Projection, as I have come to realise later in life, is just another form of bullying. When it is perceived that things are such a way when in reality they are far from it. This is not to disguise actual bullying because this was apparent too throughout all of my upbringing and was first witnessed, outside the family unit, when a betrayal by a so called friend led to more than two years of tyranny from brothers in arms. The boy that I had befriended in the early part of secondary school used to come and play with me at my own house, the first parental home that I grew up in. That was before one day I saw his bike not parked outside of my gate but propped up against the wall of a notorious lad across the street. Someone who had perhaps always looked longingly in my direction, festering a degree of envy towards the perceived lifestyle I seemingly led, with two doting, loving parents. It is a potent mix when a traitorous friend combines forces with an envious foe, living in such close proximity to my own existence. It was the early 80's and one of the most popular programmes on TV at the time for any would be teenager was the Blackadder series. In it, within one of the sketches, Lord Edmund Blackadder asks Baldrick his servent 'Where is the Nutcracker?', of which Baldrick replies saying, 'Oh, it's his day off!' A fairly innocuous statement one would imagine, one that is pretty funny for most, indeed myself too no doubt when I first heard it and yet it was subsequently used as weapon of destruction towards me to cause me ridicule as to what my family life was like down the road, just because I lived in a slightly bigger, privately owned, detached house compared to my playground buddy's council house alternative. My father in his own life journey had done very well for himself, working his way up through the ranks of his business, earning 50p a week when he first started with the company right up to being senior partner some 40 years later, working for the same firm all of his salaried life. He was then able to leave the business on his own terms and move into a fairly abundant retirement without any real financial worries. On his upward curve through life, taking his family with him, I was able to live in better houses than the majority of my immediate friends. The second house I lived in, was a six bedroom house stood in at least one acre of grounds that included a tennis court within the garden. I like to feel, that naturally, I am a person of a generous nature and wish to share my bounty with others. I have a fairly open, honest and authentic streak within me that endeavours to welcome people into my life. I have found also however that in my openness I can leave myself quite vulnerable and exposed to those that are perhaps not fully appreciative of me and my circumstances. I have thrown many a party when I have been allowed the space, inviting a number of guests inside my own four walls, some great evenings have been had, cooking fantastic meals, offering wine, women and song. I jest, it wasn't quite like that. However in inviting people into my parents residence, in the same way that I was ridiculed for seemingly having a 'Nutcracker' at my service, I was then deemed to live on 'The Blackler Estate' where we had wildebeest and other game from the African Plains running about here, there and everywhere within the Serengeti upon the back lawn. Was this innocent jesting one asks? Or was there more poisoned arrows, cloaked within those statements of envy and jealousy? Certainly as they followed the then distant 'Nutcracker' jibes I found them quite hurtful, until later in life when I was able to bring a whole lot of healing to the issue at hand and realised that my buttons weren't so easily pressed any more. In the shadow work that I engaged with through David Richo and his book 'Shadow Dance' I gained enlightenment in the fact that envy just masks the qualities of admiration. A quality that is readily at hand for us to absorb back into ourselves when we take the negative aspect of the shadow and transform it into the positive alternative instead. The irony now is that I find myself at times envious of others, and have to remind myself or bring myself back to a mode of first attention to realise that this is just admiration and I am capable of living and leading my own life in just the same way that this person is, should I deem that to be the path that I wish to take also. So, in short that person is acting as a guide to my higher self and what is possible for me in my own life once I start to put my mind in that direction and take self responsibility for the benefit of all. It is only then that I can start to bring parity to my life and lead a happier existence, free of the cages I otherwise find myself in, it will be the same for you too. I cover issues like this in my Transformational Talk sessions as part of the Shamanic Practices that I offer. If you are interested in investigating issues like this yourself I can help you once you click on the links below and we answer The Call To Adventure together as part of my Introduction Services. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below. Whatever time of year it is, you are sure to be on show.
With seeds that scatter to the wind, or petals all aglow. A vibrant yellow amongst the fields, a sunny disposition. Tracking golden orb across the sky, whatever its position. A winter flower as much as spring, to you we can rely. When down in mood, depressed a bit, and all we do is cry. Many tears could well be shed, for both happy and the sad. Not everybody’s taste are you, gardener’s sight, far from glad. For the stalwart of the pasture, persistent pest upon the lawn. You divide opinion of the many, the less hopeful, more forlorn. Of the more converted though, your essence is a must. There for us each day on day, to you we are to trust. For your message to us all, is the faith that we must keep. When all of hope looks lost, and watered lids do seep. For despite all the odds we see, there’s unexpected twist. A surprise or two in store, of a situation to be fixed. There’s still joy to come, silken threads before unseen. Connecting us to a solar path, ever onwards towards our dream. Interlaced like spiders webs, strands criss and cross at will. Taking us closer to a divine plan, where spirits lift and fill. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. A pheasant breaks cover, just above my head.
A clapping of wings, stopping me dead. Like an arrow he flies, to the other wood bank. I'm distracted, I pause, to him I must thank. For now I've switched over, into the mystery I sink. As the elements conspire, to make me just think. The sunshine emblazons, autumn's fiery red hues. No wind in this valley, to disrupt the clear views. The earth starts to sing to me, its melodic song. The water in front of me, a mirror, where I belong. I'm in awe and in wonder, of the path of liquid gold. Moving incrementally down river, the story unfolds. Two swans glide so serenely, across the mill pond. Creating ripples of silver, to which I'm most fond. My breath is now taken, my heart in my mouth. My chest gripped in tension, my soul shifts South. I'm encouraged to release, to let my spirit drop. To dive into the deep, let my thoughts go plop. There's just me and this stillness, not to be afraid. Just to witness the telling, the act to be played. For now in the emptiness, a brilliance is filled. A flash of orange and turquoise, my whole being is thrilled. For there in the moment, a kingfisher flies forth. Not one but there's two now, connection true North. I'm in rapture, enthralled, in bliss, pure joy. At one with my surroundings, in heaven, oh boy! By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. A Lockdown Gift - Our Ability To Reconnect With Nature One of the more positive things to have come out of the coronavirus pandemic and the lockdown of 2020 has been our ability to reconnect with nature.
Faced with vast periods of time spent alone at home, stuck between four walls, with only a tablet or phone screen for company, we have yearned for the great outdoors and taken every opportunity to go out and fill our lungs with fresh air and deepen our connection with the world around us. If we have been unable to venture into the wilderness like before then we have become more aware of what has been happening on our own doorstep. We have begun to value intimate time spent with bird, bee, flower and tree in the gardens, fields and hedgerows close to where we live. We have learnt that experiencing a restrictive, controlled, bullied existence is not a healthy one for us, short or long term, as many an oppressed individual would testify. It can lead to poor mental health, stress, anxiety and depression. Here we live our lives as fragmented souls cut off from our true selves and wider community, no amount of consuming can ever fill the void left behind. Whether we wish to live a life closer to our own nature or that of the planet itself, the plants and animals are just waiting for an opportunity to become more acquainted with us, to act as our allies. Flower essence and shamanic practitioners are trained to tune into what these allies want to communicate to us at a more profound level. They do this through capturing the spirit of the plant through a bowl of holy spring water and then sampling it or just understanding what an animal’s unique power and essence is from the characteristics and behaviours that it wishes to display to us all. This knowledge can then filter into a more expansive body of shamanic practices and healing techniques designed to restore any qualities we are lacking, bringing us back to a state of wholeness and balance, helping us to vibrate at a higher level of energy frequency to that which we do now, moving ourselves from a place of fear to one of love. If you would like to reconnect to nature yourself and want to tap into what the flora and fauna is wanting to communicate to you why not join me on a Medicine Walk or engage in a Flower Essence Consultation to discover 'The Essence Of Who You Are', these are the best routes into discovering the Great Mystery of how we are all interrelated and connected. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below. Stretched well away, from your solid core centre.
Wrapped around root, every cranny you enter. Up stem and over bush, in relentless full pursuit. Clambering over everything, a claustrophobic brute. Rhizomes are splayed, far and wide you do grab. Clawing at the soil, unsuspecting seedlings to nab. Of poison you are, to a gardener’s fair mind. Treasured bush strangled, light robbed plain blind. Secateurs are then brought, to which you are chopped. Cut back to the source, many tears are then mopped. The harvest gets a breather, but wary it should be. For soon you’ll gather strength, and back you’ll come with glee. For every time you are slaughtered, knocked down to the ground. You lift yourself back up, where more anger abounds. Enraged that you are, of being bullied again. Of your right to grow strong, and bring resistance to men. For in your fair essence, there is this persistence. Where it is futile to banish you, for high is resilience. If only we could learn, to love your white bloom. To bask in your morning glory, and give you more room. For in the realm of Great Spirit, that of our Eden. There is a place for us all, to thrive and be feeding. Keep trying we will, to make our effort reap pay. To shine if we might, discover joy and to play. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. From birth I was rejected, as God had left his mark.
A lesion on my forehead, mother’s shock, quite stark. So little time to suckle, so soon upon the bottle. Forever sat upon the pot, so scared I was to puddle. Quickly I began to learn, to be nice boy, quiet, timid. To fit in with parental kin, keep lid on, know my limit. Such ingrained conditioning, I soon was lamb to slaughter. At mercy to my friend or peer, bully, thug or father’s daughter. At school I came to realise, the suffering and the pain. Of muddied shoes and spitting foes, pushed down banks in solid rain. And then there was a locking arm, closed taught around my neck. To the unforgiving floor I fell, and wondered what the heck. Off to head of year I was, returning from the black. To resolve this issue, once for all, to get some existence back. More difficult though it seemed to be, as formed I was, the walnut. Tight within the shell I lived, no thought to shape, or being hermit. For when one bully disappeared, another came at once. More dangerous than the one before, more tyranny, more months. Punching arms and kicking legs, left just holding thread. To the last day of the term, where I was wished plain dead. A pattern had been formed, to college and to work. Every oppressor I could meet, to administer any hurt. So attractive I seemed to be, a wondrous bully magnet. My life led to others rule, criticised, controlled, their pet. At the heart of me however, was one undying firm belief. That another way was possible, to bring ultimate relief. To a counsellor I would go, eventually to reach out. A thought to gamble all, win big or leave with nowt. Gatekeeper to another world, porter to the door. Where I could spot a realm of flight, where I could rise and soar. The path was being shown to me, the runway to take off. To leave the caterpillar way behind, greet butterfly and that of moth. And so it was to seventeen, not age but turns of wheel. To drop all facades that were fake, to live life that more real. Where many members of my clan, Lepidoptera of great power. Would give me teachings, learnings, prose, of nature and the flower. For stag to come, and gift masculine to the bone. For tiger, wolf, panther to arrive, to start to bring me home. For condor to appear, and raven, that of owl. To be blessed with healing arts, for me to cry and howl. For here I was beginning, to find myself at last. Animals supporting me, ensuring such a blast. Working with me hand in hand, to be trusted without fail. To assist me in supporting you, as me, myself, swallowtail. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. |
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