A Place in the Sun

 I thought of starting piano lessons again. It has been a while.  And, I thought - the lady upstairs from my office is a well-known piano teacher in Malta.  I hear the piano all day on a Tuesday - I could not miss out. So here I am, of a Tuesday at 6 p.m., starting again. Still having difficulty with self-discipline and all the things I thought of committing to.  This piano business has been the replacement for the love of ballet, seeing as the pain in my knees has often forced me to stop dancing. Piano lessons are not just for children, but are also great for adults who have always wanted to learn how to play the piano or who wish to continue their musical education. Taking piano lessons as an adult can be a rewarding and enriching experience. It can help to reduce stress, improve cognitive function, and provide a creative outlet. Moreover, with technology and the availability of online lessons, it has become even more accessible and convenient to learn the piano fr...

Embarking on a solo work-related journey led me to the captivating destination of Jersey. As the weekend unfolded before me, the inevitable question arose: where to dine? While the allure of retreating to the comfort of my room tugged at me—enveloped in its cold embrace, the prospect of a lackluster and solitary evening loomed. However, I chose to seize the moment differently. I envisioned this dining experience as an date with myself. With a touch of finesse, I carefully applied some makeup and wore elegant cosmetic jewelry—initially, I wasn't too sure I wanted to dress up so fancily. A couple of times, on the way to the restaurant, I resisted the temptation to buy my food from a grocery or take-away: would I have done that if I were dating someone? Or let someone do that to me? I thought, not. I thought of myself holding my own hand and must confess I almost felt shy. It was as though my lonely spirit was afraid to take the hand of my lively spirit. I came to this cute Thai resta...

  I am dying. Not a physical death - I mean, we're all moving towards death, physically, but that's beside the point. They say that the seed must die in order that the plant, the flower, grows. These platitudes might mean a lot, might serve as encouragement.   But nobody tells you how painful that death might be.  And how hard it is to see the end of the tunnel, even if you know it's in there somewhere. The current government's exposed corruption have led the country to take draconian measures against small enterprises and businesses (for fear of repatriation by the larger ones) in an attempt to placate the international community at fears of tax evasion and corruption taking place in this Mediterranean gem.  This has entailed the dismantling of my practice, the end of my freelance work and the entry into full time employment, with the stresses that it brings for persons with my current stance. It's taking it's toll, and I'm always tired. This has also entai...

  Whatever nature it takes, love requires management - of one's own way of being first.  To love another, you have to know how to care for yourself first. The old cliche, that you cannot fill from an empty jug, comes to mind, but it is, of course true. So, based on a recent experience that threw me, I delved into Thich Nhat Than's book, True Love, a veritable manual of how to deal with human relationships, the Buddhist way. I was brought up the Catholic way and I cannot say I've ever been given such an easy-to-follow and helpful 'manual' to human relationships. All I got, from my Catholic background, is a mountain of (sometimes-unwarranted) expectations from others, that have sometimes placed my relationships into question. Naturally, the ones that give the most trouble are the ones where one is most invested. That's a true and painful admission. But the lessons you learn for 'romantic' love, can easily be translated into other forms of relationships. Th...

 I often ask myself why I used to feel the need to numb my feelings. Did I always need to numb them, or was it a compulsion that drove me to do so. Whether highs, or lows. There are 2 schools of thought. Some say that you turn to substances because of your propensity to become an addict, something inherent in your physiology. Other schools of thought are proponents of the underlying issues being the cause for a person to turn towards substances of any sort, ranging from alcohol, to mood-altering medication, to drugs. It makes little difference what your poison is, once you are on the merry-go-round, really - you're stuck there until you find the will to get off. I have always had deeply intense emotions - the artist in me always prevailed, even if I performed brilliantly in academia. As powerful as is my brain, so is my capacity to be subject to very intense emotions, that has not always been easy to deal with. Indeed it was very, very hard. 'Was' not being exactly correct....

 A couple of weeks I was having a  chat with a friend of mine, who's an NLP Trainer. Incidentally she was my trainer but this was a chat over a meal, as friends. As we do. The subject came up, of myself participating in some voluntary activities. I mentioned that as I've grown older it's become much. much harder to commit to anything.  I'll explain. Years ago I used to sign up for things - ballet classes, voluntary groups and other activities that required time and commitment, usually on a weekly basis and sometimes more. As the years rolled by, I found that this became increasingly difficult. No matter how much I loved the activity, the intention, the idea behind it, I just could not come up with the grit. I would join for a few weeks, a few sessions, a few events but then feel unable to commit.   This made me very unhappy and gave me a sense of dissatisfaction, because I kept comparing myself with others, seeing them gain achievements through commitments and s...

 Many have mused on the ability of humanity to recover, to get out of this global pandemic that has just simply changed the way we live. Not just the way we work, or the way we socialise, or the way we treat our families. Just everything we do. I don't think I have yet emerged completely from the shell I have built around myself during the time when Malta stood still, for about three months. I wasn't ready to crawl back out into the sunlight and I wanted introversion to go on. I think I felt this even after I'd found love. 2021 has been much easier on me and I welcomed the closures again in March, preferring to stay within the cocoon I'd built around myself.  Of course, it was an entirely new way of being and I still am finding my feet. Being in a loving relationship is nothing like it used to be. It used to be so simple when we were younger - if you wished to meet up you would just say so.  To express a thought was free - nowadays one is more easily led astray by conce...

They say creation comes when you are at your most emotional. But, really ? Does it ever? Many have written about writer's block, too. And that muse abandons them when they are going through difficult times. The pendulum swings either way, it seems. The last few months have been far from easy. I have swung from being crazily busy to being rendered inactive after falling off my bicycle, just before the pandemic had us in semi-lock-down. I spent all of my time during this period wearing a knee-brace, and a good chunk of that having to use crutches. I would have thought this was something that would throw me - as would being confined and forced to stay away from socialising. In reality I was healing, healing from a huge gaping hole that was caused by living with someone who had addiction and bestowing on him different kinds of love. What started off as love among equals soon turned to be, for me, a love that provided support and resolved itself, perhaps, into the son I should have ha...

COVID-19 has hit the world a few weeks ago; in Malta it's been nearly 3 weeks since we all started working from home. The world has been thrown into utter confusion but do we join ranks? At Asteria , we decided to take our equipment home (to the extent we could), and work from our desks, particularly because we are a mix of vulnerable people, those who commute only using buses, and because therefore it makes more sense. Many law firms have shut their doors to clientele, to protect members and employees. The courts are closed anyway - acts cannot be filed except using the emergency procedure to open the court registry using extraordinary means. There are, underway, a number of discussions with the Chamber of Advocates that might enable proceedings to resume if they are urgent or if they can expediently be dealt with online (such as sittings of certain cases). This might cause trouble with prescription (time-barring) and the current legal notice that suspends all prescript...

And so you move on. It is not some 'namaste' revelation, nor is it some hopeful journey. Or at least, not right away. Succumbing to addiction creates victims, not only in the addict themselves but in the sufferers who have to reap the damage sowed by the loved one who is an addict. Relationships are burned away - indeed, trust is burned away and depending on how bad the damage done, the harm might be irreparable.  There could very well be trauma involved - has there been violence of sorts? fraud? Violation of trust, of one's safe haven, of one's home ? These are all considerations that the community remains comfortably unaware of. It is considered that now that the addict has recognised his or her wrongs and, or gone into rehab, things will look up but this is most often not the case. And so society moves on, unaware of the underworld that is in recovery. It could be argued that even the support services are unaware: there is much weeping and gnashing of teeth...

I remember my first tricycle, when I was three years old, and not only would I chase up and down the garden path we had (was paved) but we used to go down to Raffles ground and spend hours running around with it. When I was about 4 or 5, my parents got me a lovely black and yellow bicycle and my red tricycle went to my sister (although I still secretly liked it). At first we had side-wheels, and then they were gradually taken off. A few years later, we got a red Tomahawk, which I still winder the fate of today. We graduated to using the bikes not only in Luxol but other areas where they could be taken for a good old spin. This was most Sundays. At some point, we also used to cycle in the small street / alleyway next door and go round and round the block. Since I lived (still do) on a main road, commuting here and there was not much of an option and I was into windsurfing with my dad and his best friend. and ballet more than anything else. Eventually I moved on the...

Living with addiction is no joke. Whether or not you are an addict, whether or not you are seeking to recover, or perhaps you might be living with someone who is contending with addiction, there are the traumas, the underlying issues, and the proverbial hole in your back pocket. This expression hit me during various discussions at recovery meetings. Recovering alcoholics will tell you how money seemed to vanish (though it would sometimes mysteriously appear instead) during their life as an addict.  They would have spent too much on alcohol for themselves, rounds for others, stocking up their cupboards for those long nights. With that, there is probably an alleviation of guilt somewhere. You break your car irreparably, drunk-driving. You fix it, not because it's worth doing so, but to atone for your sins. Someone makes financial demands on you and because when you last were pissed you made a fool of yourself, you pay up. It's never-ending. The outflow never seems to stop....

What a beautiful expression, and how deeply meaningful. Gratitude.  Gratefulness.  Thankfulness.  Counting one's blessings.  Appreciation. Acknowledging that people have had time / willingness or whatever it takes, to deliver some benefit to you, perhaps unprompted. Looking back on the last twelve months, I have had no option but to recognise the high amount of blessings I have received, having stepped on the right path. Just one year ago, I was headed toward London, a conference and disaster.  That disaster would prove to be, not my undoing but a blessing, because I put it to good use and turned matters around to my benefit. It hasn't been without struggle and I have re-visited and confirmed all my promises to myself. You cannot deny, however, that when you preserve yourself, then you are able to keep your word and therefore be a gift to others. This weekend, I was away and I was surrounded by people, whom I had often spoken to but not quite remembere...

That was the question during a therapy meeting. What do you consider to be "normal". "NOT ME," screeched my amused brain. Tongue in cheek, of course. Not me. Today there is wide acceptance that everyone has that little thing that sets them apart from the rest. A quirk, a chip on the shoulder, a scar, or a genetic make-up. Yet there seems to be a mainstream of what people consider to be normal. My mind wandered off to a poem ( see below) that I heard, entreating with 'normal day' to make itself known to the writer. It often makes me think of how little we appreciate what we call "mundane" (the word itself having a deprecatory note to it). “Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in t...

I heard, yesterday, that one of the very first lecturers to make an impression on me in law school, has passed on to another life. Hon. Justice Emeritus Giuseppe Mifsud Bonnici, 88 at the time of his passing, was affectionately called "Jojo" by one and all in class, and he was a force to be reckoned with.  I still remember him clearly, riling against bureaucracy, indignant at a certain manner of doing things in University and his deep sense of justice - Natural Law and Natural Right. He was not one to be contraried in class - as I imagine was also the case in court. His temper may have appeared short but he was a righteous man - one who stood up for what was right. On his subject in our first year at university - the much hated book, Finnis - I was oft in two minds. The author was a pedant, and the book made heavy reading. Convoluted at best. I hated studying it with a passion and found all forms of philosophy repetitive.  However, Jojo would bring up humane issues ...

The tone of the iPhone, specifically, triggered it.  I used that particular "bling" for incoming e-mails, work e-mails, onto the phone, back when I was working in St Helier. Gut-wrenching pain reverberates through me, momentarily, as I remember the familiar smell of my beautiful apartment on the Esplanade, overlooking the yachts, and the walk to St Aubin's beach, 3 km of pure bliss as the tide was out, gazing longingly at the sand and sea. The staleness of struggling out of bed and the sinking feeling every time I would be called into an office, after moving to Malta. It was never-ending and the voices still echo in my head, as though I were in a time-travel cavern. I remembered the anxiety as it all spiralled again - and my struggling with myself and the thoughts of the one person  I had joined this team to escape. The crushing grief, his dogged insistence on remaining so close and yet so far. My perseverance in trying to get it out of my system but eventually succum...

" I kept my answers small and kept them near; Big questions bruised my mind but still I let Small answers be a bulwark to my fear. The huge abstractions I kept from the light; Small things I handled and caressed and loved. I let the stars assume the whole of night. But the big answers clamoured to be moved Into my life.  Their great audacity Shouted to be acknowledged and believed. Even when all small answers build up to Protection of my spirit, still I hear Big answers striving for their overthrow And all the great conclusions coming near. " "Answers", Elizabeth Jennings Often we find that, while processing something of significance in our minds, we turn our thoughts to that which is less relevant - indeed we become obsessed by minor details when we really should be dealing with matters of greater import. One might find oneself distracted by clearing out a drawer when they really should have started to draft out a paper.  Alternative...

I sat around, moping about the fact that someone's letter, supposedly posted ten days ago, had not reached me. Granted, the mere allegation that someone posted something does not mean it was posted at the agreed time or place.  Nor does it mean that the letter will be delivered swiftly, given the rushed period that precedes Christmas.  However, this caused me to turn my thoughts to how our expectations have changed over the years.  As a young girl, it was nice to have something to look forward to, and if a friend sent me something by post (perhaps we were unable to meet, or something of the sort), I knew that it would arrive, at some point, and it was a nice delicious feeling to know that the future held a nice little surprise for me.  It mattered not when it did in fact arrive, even if I looked at that letterbox with anticipation. Somehow, I could not bring myself to recreate that positive expectation this time round. My mind was immediately filled with ideas of...

It is past 2 in the morning and the recent trend seems to be that my eyelids should be unable to remain shut. I am aware of the generous contribution being made by my erstwhile friend Caffeine - I've been binging unashamedly and unreservedly on sources of it.  Luckily, with this substance I know it's a fad that will soon be switched to something else, like sparkling water, tea or hot chocolate. It will begin to make me queasy, and I will just stop. Or perhaps stick with the dark chocolate.  It's an anti-depressant with delightful side-effects (weight not being one of them). It is during these silent mornings that my thoughts turn in on themselves and their cackles begin to echo in the caverns of my consciousness.  These audacious thoughts keep me awake and I know the reason. I sat in my therapists's room the other day.  This wayward one had strayed off for a few months and returned to its fold to ruminate.  He eyed me with amusement, as he always does, and a...

Of course the world gives us good things to look forward to!  How one earth would we carry on, without things to smile about, things to look forward to ? Life has an extraordinary way of balancing the yin and the yang, and unless we are truly unfortunate, or utterly pessimistic, then we always have something to smile about at some point. Anxiety can be good.  Not that it feels good, but it may be induced by positive situations. My current state of mind is a productive one - the anxiety is generating work and high levels of efficiency.  There are things to look forward to and one particular thing that has lit up my days, even if it does not let me sleep at night. I almost hardly dare to dream and I am just looking at the idea, the feeling, and letting it stay with me, allowing it to infuse me with joy until it does become a reality.  I am almost sure there will be a few obstacles along the way, but the human spirit is always hopeful and the resulting anxiety is ...