AT MIDNIGHT

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THE PATH TO BAT ISLAND

I am hoping I shall sleep soon. Round about now I think of the shattering things. Now and then I think of the major rock bottoms I have had in life and then I weary and despair and sometimes – my heart simply aches and breaks.

I guess I was expecting conversion at the level I experienced in Port Macquarie Hospital in 1985 and then the one that got me clean and sober in 1987. Each of them fired a great faith and sense of purpose in me and I guess I was expecting that this time – but it has not been like that.  There have been miles and miles of doubt and rebellion and fear.

The abyss has yawned most of the time and things which have worked for me before have not all worked this time.

I shed a tear for my own little children who had a wretched early childhood and whom I left. For the 1000kms between me and 2 of my loved ones.

I shed tears for losses and frights and not visiting and taking care of my Dad. For my sister and my niece .

Sometimes – all I am is a shattered shell. Something about coming back to Bellingen is bringing it on even more intensely. The path to Bat Island for one thing. And the streets of my town.  And then curiously on the other side of the Despair lies something sweet and kindly.

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Once there was a way,
To get back homeward.

Once there was a way
To get back home.

Sleep, pretty darling,
Dot not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.

Golden slumbers,
Fill your eyes
Smiles await you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling
Do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.

Once there was a way
To get back homeward

Once there was a way
To get back home

Sleep, pretty darling
Do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby.

Songwriters
LENNON, JOHN WINSTON / MCCARTNEY, PAUL JAMES

Read more: Beatles – Golden Slumbers Lyrics | MetroLyrics

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8 NOV 2016 NORTH BELLINGEN

PONY RIDE TO THE BRIDGE.

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LOOKING WEST AT BELLINGEN BRIDGE 8 NOV 2016

Today I saw Antonia, the counsellor, whom I really like.  She intimates that I ask an lot of myself. She is in the Old Council Chambers which is a building I love.

The Girls picked me up and we had Gelato at the Gelato Bar. Shopped the IGA and Bellingen main street and then I came home.

Just on dusk, enough courage came to try a Pony Ride towards Town and I DID IT. Through the old Caravan Park and down Dowle Street – all the way to the Bridge. I reckon I will soon be able to do the shops as I did in Urunga. That will add another dimension of freedom.  I had just been complaining about living in suburbia – then realised that its not precisely suburbia here. The bats flew over. The tropical island was still sitting there in the middle of the river even if the do gooders have trashed a lot of it.

ACT AS IF.

I am doing right actions to make things seem better and now and then – now and then – I can feel it. I  am cheerful tonight. Antonia suggested that I need a carer – in a less assertive suggestion than that – That’s how my ears hear. I think she also intimated that I don’t need to do so much.

Ah well. Another day has passed.  I added a couple of steps forwards and I am a little light hearted at 10.33 pm. I even had a near tearful moment thinking of the good things people have done for me.

Another thing that happened today was a few drops of rain. Lovely. Then Lise came down with salmon patties for my dinner. Made by Dave  and muffins she made. Funny damned world.  There is a phrase in the Big Book someplace which describes this time for me as it has done before. I shall hunt it up.

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http://www.csp.org/experience/james-varieties/james-varieties9.html

In the end we fall back on the hackneyed symbolism of a mechanical equilibrium. A mind is a system of ideas, each with the excitement it arouses, and with tendencies impulsive and inhibitive, which mutually check or reinforce one another. The collection of ideas alters by subtraction or by addition in the course of experience, and the tendencies alter as the organism gets more aged. A mental system may be undermined or weakened by this interstitial alteration just as a building is, and yet for a time keep upright by dead habit. But a new perception, a sudden emotional shock, or an occasion which lays bare the organic alteration, will make the whole fabric fall together; and then the centre of gravity sinks into an attitude more stable, for the new ideas that reach the centre in the rearrangement seem now to be locked there, and the new structure remains permanent.

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THE BACKYARD OF NO 16 DOWLE STREET WHERE WE LIVED IN 1996. PHOTO TAKEN 8 NOV 2016