Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Great Prayer!







Lord,

Thank goodness you know me,
because I don't always know myself!
I suppose there is a purpose to the menopause,
forgive me when I fail to see it!

Please help me to understand why bits of my anatomy
are travelling south at alarming speed.
Why does a nice juicy apple not have the same
'must eat' quality of a yummy chocolate cream gateau?

You don't get to my age without knowing a thing or two,
please help me to disseminate my wisdom
without saying the fatal words
'I told you so!'

I admit to an interest in others affairs;
keep me from passing on
the tempting gossip and smugness that comes
from not giving into similar temptation.

Support me while I listen to another's woes.
Help me to resist the urge
to regale the hapless person with my
much more important tales of adversity.

When complaining that the young
do not have the same qualities I possessed in my youth,
help me to realize that rose tinted spectacles
aid my recollection!

I notice a certain asperity has crept into my speech
when discussing the problems of society,
please make my response
more thoughtful and less prejudiced.

While I will never be a candidate for beatification,
please enable me to attain a level of amiability
so I do not repulse my family and friends.

I am mathematically challenged
so please assist me to count my blessings and realize
that I am the most fortunate of women.

AMEN 


Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The TV of the Mind


What gets the highest rating in your TV mind? What gets the most views? Are there repeats from the past that are always dependable for full concentration and energy? Is it just shoes and breasts, depending on your gender?

I was laughing at myself the other day. I was caught off guard.

I was walking down the street to the supermarket. Its a busy road. I was happy, but my happiness attracted a certain attention that I became intensely aware of. I stopped feeling happy, and became aware and sensitive and then I laughed at myself, dropped my slightly risen rib cage, let the wind shake my hair and I let it go.

I thought to myself, ha, got you.

Then I was in the supermarket and straight in front of me was the tall figure of a well built man who gave me one of those looks and I felt this creeping female power rising. I haven't felt that for a few years. The urge to become a prize worth the male’s advances.

It caught me unaware and I quickly hid behind the laundry detergent until the Spanish words had turned themselves into a soothing blur.

I walked home with a little less spring in my step, laughing a little to myself, but my mind was sharp and watchful and I remembered 'be ever vigilant'.

Watching the TV of the mind - that part is ok. But when the images give rise to that sorrow, that sensation, that coveted desire... this is the moment of test. And to watch ourselves get caught up with the tangles of the mind, and then slowly un-knot ourselves.

With gratitude to OS

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Fear of the Self?

Fear of the Self?

We were walking down a small street in Melaka, Malaysia. The boys were in front of me, and we were all carrying large back packs from our transport to our accommodation.

We were about ten days into our four month trip. I’d read carefully all of the do’s and don’ts but didn’t feel particularly worried about anything. I thought.

Suddenly, I felt someone behind me. I was sure that they were so close I could feel them and my heart leapt. I let out a scream and turned, quickly to see who it was. But they had moved so fast! I turned again, at this moment, truly terrified.

And then, I realised, that the ‘someone’ was my back pack. My luggage.

How’s that for symbolism?

Perhaps, when you're ready, we could, as an option, put our luggage down sometimes, if not just throw it into the rubbish. Just as an option.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Coming out of the Spiritual Closet


Last year, I announced at the dinner table, that finally, after years of struggling and pretending, I was ready to embrace my impression of my spirituality.

That is, I was going to be honest about how I felt about god/God, spirits, meditation, images, symbols, synchronicity and let myself in for the ‘fruity loop’ comments of my peers and companions.

Why be honest about something so private?

There are two reasons for this. The first is that I dislike lying. I dislike hiding information. I have a repulsion for it. Personally, I feel cleaner and freer telling the truth, and being open about how I feel and what I see. If that means saying, spontaneously, ‘wow, look at that flower – isn’t it just an expression of purity?’ and it brings a laugh of embarrassment from my companions, I don’t mind. I can’t and don’t wish to repress the irrepressible at this stage.

Secondly, everyone is a bit wacky. That is, everyone has strange stories to tell, but they don’t tell them, because we don’t want to be laughed at, or thought of as kooky or different. So – if you are reading this, and you have a kooky story to tell, feel free. That’s why I came out of the closet, so you feel like nothing you can say will be weirder than what Tiffany is going to say.

And in this case, it takes one to know one.

With you in fruity loop land, and loving it.

Love and blessings

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Wearing Cross Cultural Clothes


~the whys and therefores

About me (contextualizing my comments)


My name is Tiffany Jones.

My Australian-born parents are a mixture of Welsh, English, Scottish and Chinese heritage. I have lived in Australia, Japan, Norway, Denmark and Spain. I’ve travelled to thirty countries.

I wear clothing I’m comfortable in and clothing I like. (I know its not the same as everyone else and still, I’m happy to be comfortable rather than fit in.) I’m a believer in discarding clothing that I identify with negative experiences or makes me feel negative towards myself.

Questions on Cross Cultural Exchange (why I wrote the post)

Last week, a friend of mine posed some questions about cross cultural dressing. For example, why decorate the face with Bindi’s if you are not Hindu, why dye your hair a different colour if you obviously have black hair, why try to be whiter if you are naturally dark, why do white girls have cornrows sometimes, and why do some Asian people surgically ‘round’ their eyes to be more Caucasian. Why not just display your own heritage and be happy with that?

These questions are not exactly in the same category as cross cultural fashion, but they do point to an opinion many people hold that consists of ‘what you are, is what you were born as, so stay that way and don’t mix your creativity with others’.

Because our image, the way we present ourselves, the way we dress, adorn and paint ourselves is a creation. We can create sloppily, or with high skill, with little thought, or with great care. Its a creation.

Who Decides What We Wear?

The fashion changes have often been brought about by necessity. The changes of women’s fashion were the greatest during war times when material was in short supply (so skirt hems went up), or because women started working (trousers and clothing with more freedom of movement).

We’re inspired by what we see on TV, in magazines, on the street and by our friends. The images that we see are created by fashion designers from across the globe. We are wearing and buying clothing that other people design, and we choose from these designers. (Designers are typically the first to admit that they are inspired from other culture's interpretation of clothing.)

Denim Jeans

I bought my first pair of jeans when I was 30. I hated jeans because I thought they were ugly, heavy and common. Everyone wears jeans. I changed my mind because at that time in my life I wanted to be common. I wanted to be just like everyone else. And jeans was a way to feel normal.


And ‘normal’ my dear friends, is what we see, mostly on TV. What we see on TV comes from North America. Teenagers in Norway, Australia and here in Spain are highly influenced by American TV and American fashion. What do teen queens wear? Jeans and a cutsie little top.

The story of jeans is a classic example of how fashion travels. The material, Wiki states, originated both from Genoa and India in the 16th century for sailors. In the 1800’s, were being sold in North America for factory workers. In the 1950’s, they were popularised by teenagers in North America. So, who owns the copyright or national identity of jeans? The Genoese, the Dhungaese, or the Americans?

So then, if I go to India, and I wear a Punjabi suit (suitable since Hindu’s and Muslims living in India are typically modest) I am cross culture dressing. Perhaps its acceptable in India, but if I wear it here, in Spain, or in Norway? What do you think?

Do you think ‘ahh, that girl can’t wear that, she’s not Indian?’

But what if I wear the pants only, and a singlet? And a bracelet? Then, am I being a ‘hippie’ or am I cross culture dressing or perhaps you didn’t even notice since the pants are in fashion at the moment.

And what if an Indian person wears jeans? Are they disregarding their culture for that of the Americans?

Accepting or not accepting the fashion of different cultures seems to be based on how often you’ve been exposed to other culture’s ideas of fashion or not.

The pants from the Hill tribes of Thailand are in fashion right now in Spain. Every tenth female is wearing them. Its fashionable and I can tell you right now that most of the females wearing them do not know where they come from. They just like what they look like. They are, in short, cool.

Does it matter?

Really?

Where do shirts come from? Who has the right to wear them?

And if we really want to get picky, can only Italians eat pizza? (God forbid)

Everything is personal and nothing has a blanket answer. There is no right or wrong. There can certainly be ugly and attractive, but we all know that admiration is in the eyes of the admirer.

On a personal note, I love Indian clothing. The colours, the freedom of movement – you can eat what you want and the top is big enough that your stomach doesn’t show its bulge, its elegant and protective from sun and wind and more feminine than any pair of jeans.

I have never felt as comfortable as I do in my favourite blue Punjabi suit.


Other opinions are heartily welcomed.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Appearance of Silver Hairs


Its shiny and wayward and doesn’t fit into the style I chose, but I love them. I love each one. They can be a symbol of wisdom, of experience, of life.


When I take a positive note to something that has a modern reputation as being a negative, like grey hairs, I think of Nickos and Shirley Valentine and his rapturous description of her birth marks.
So maybe you don’t believe me, but it gets me to penetrate your mind with a new idea of what is. Then perhaps, after accepting that ideas come and go, we can allow what is, without an opinion and without insistence. Insistence seems to always want to sell something, and at this stage, I’m no different.

I’m selling positivity.

I want us to question what the media tells us is negative. If everyone is afraid of grey hair, then they will dye it, and money is exchanged for your fears.

If people embrace the silver strands, standing independently and fiercely upon our heads, we just smile to our mirror, instead of peer and squint and complain internally every morning.

Where’s the good in that?

Silver strands of my life
Breaking into my phantom youth.
Be, I am, and smile at their insistent direction.
Resistant they are, and full of self importance.
Silver strands of my youth
Coming to remind me, of me.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

On Being Human is Now On Being One With Life

Hi everyone!
Hello Tiffany!

Hello

So - what happened in October?
It was my birthday - I turned 37....

I feel fantastic - and, happily, magically and most importantly - I've embraced my life...

in some way, this is what I wanted, this year, without knowing it.. I've been away from my 'normal life' for a year... to take a year to be me - to figure out what it is that I'm suppose to do - to learn - instead of teach... and bang...

I took a step off the ledge... and now - I'm on the other side ---

of belief of faith of trust of life

The world is new - and yes, a new day is here....

Love, life, flow, tao, love, spirit, oneness, truth, beauty, love, here, now, life, cells, light, bright, ever, truth, love, god, creator, source, all, one, being....

Love to you all -

Tiffany

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Humorous Moments on the Road

March 08 (On the way to Noosa) or otherwise entitles 'How to generate hate mail/male'

Tiffany - All cars should have a little digital sign on them, saying what they are doing.

Albert - Most of them would say 'I'm going to the shops, my husband earns the money.'

(editor's note - Albert says that I should put the above quote in a time context. IE - it was a weekday, and mid-morning. Tiffany says - 'what ever, you still sound like a neaderthal')



March 08 (while planning part of our maybe more of Asia trip in a year)

Albert - If you could name your own airlines, what would you call it?

Tiffany - Far Kov Kwik Flights

What's yours?



Albert's Growing list of jobs he wants to do when he gets big. (Albert is our 29 year old)

- Truck driver
- Air plane pilot
- Racing car driver
- Garbage man
- Post man
(Editor's note -Albert just emphatically denied that he ever said he wants to be a postman when he grows up. He wants to change it for taxi driver.)
- Taxi driver
- Buyer for Indian shops around the world


Brisbane Airport - ‘Mum, please don’t cackle. Its unnerving.’

Brisbane Airport (about our plane and slight delay) – ‘Your plane has an engineering problem’ (ha! Good one!!! Yeah, right! Are they actually allowed to say that??? As a legitimate excuse for lateness? Why can’t they white lie a little bit. ‘Sorry, but Captain Smith’s manicure is still in progress, your flight will be 30 minutes delayed’. I’d be prefer that.


On the road from Litchfield to Darwin, bumper sticker ‘I live with FEAR, sometimes she lets me go fishing.’


(all of these comments have been previously published here - http://journals.worldnomads.com/allwelcome/ )