I’m tap, tapping from prompts offered by Kat McNally’s #AprilMoon and Susannah Conway’s aprillove2015. I’m careful of my words. They can send powerful messages to the mind. We know what tricks the mind can play on us. So pay heed what you say and think. I’m often guilty of not paying attention and let every wisp of smoke get in. That smoke smoulders and flares into flames. Before you know it, there is a raging fire.
Let me take care and form my thoughts carefully.
Good morning, self. It’s a beautiful morning. See how the light dances on the wall. Feel it kissing your sweet face. It is blessing you with its healing warmth. Bask and luxuriate in its arms. The morning will pass fast enough. In the meantime, enjoy the peace and quietness.
You are the child of the Universe. You are loved and cherished. Be happy for you are as you should be. Feel blessed by the love and goodness in your life. Be grateful for your riches. Be strong in your faith. Be forgiving in your heart. Be generous of the spirit. Above all else, love yourself – no matter what.
Now I lay myself down to sleep. Goodnight self. Close your eyes. Empty your thoughts and smooth your brow of care. You have worked hard and done your best today. Now it is time to rest. Let the sandman sprinkle magical dust onto your eyes. Sweet dreams, my dear.
Thunder rumbled and crackled. Then the rain came – for a minute or two. It was a dramatic sound display.
Now we are left with the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. I am in a bad mood. I hope no one expects lunch any time soon. I am sapped of energy. Sheba is lucky she got walked. I can blame it on the positive ions left from the thunder. Everyone knows that they are not great for our moods and well being.
I have to admit that I am not known for my pleasing disposition, even as a child. Funny how some things stick in your mind.
The aunties in our village and my paternal grandmother were always telling me I was a grumpy girl and that no man would marry me. My mother never told me that. But the message took hold. And that was how I always thought of myself. I often warned people of my grumpiness – that it was me, not them that was the problem. I turned sour and defiant inside.
These aunties and my grandmother would later tell me again that no man will have me because of the scar sustained from a burn. It was big but on the inside of my left arm. It was not readily noticeable.
I could not remember a time without the scar. I was quite self conscious of it, wearing long sleeves and sweaters even in the heat of summer. I hid it by holding my arm close to my body. In a family photo shortly before we left Hong Kong, I was noticeably turning my arm to hide my scar. There were times I wondered how my life would be different if my arm was smooth and whole. But I could not conjure it up. The gnarled scar tissue stared back at me.
I outgrew my sensitivity when I became a nurse. The uniforms were short-sleeved. It was too much effort to be self conscious, trying to hide my scar. I flaunted it and joked about it. Eventually it ceased to be an issue.
Today, I see how vain I was. So many people are walking around with bigger and more visible scars than mine. But I realize that I was but a child then, sensitive and easily impressed. Now, I know the adults were not trying to be mean. They were just talking without thought, not knowing how their words affected me.
I had no voice then, but now I do and I am talking.