Blog Archives - FordeFables

June 30th, 2016

30/6/2016

Thought for today:
"Nowhere is such beauty to be found on this earth, than that which is seen in the reflection of womanly thought, thinking upon the memory of a past love or the anticipation of a meeting to come.

There has probably been more written upon the topic of 'love' than any other subject one can think of. Therapists provide advice on it, experts pronounce its absence or presence and romantic books never fail to profess its existence by the final page. For my own part, I have loved more than once and believe that there is no absolute in the emotion. I believe that each person we love, we love differently to any other. That is why we love the best when we love someone for who they are.

Love is often a pretend by-product of lust and remains just a word until we bring it meaningful definition. I know it means many different things to many different people. Some can obtain pleasure from the mere holding of hands, the sweetest of smiles or the sharing of souls, whereas others require nothing less than the emotional force of sheer sexual physicality to feel its presence. Without this coup de grace which they call passion, some romantics say they cannot know love at its best.

Perhaps it takes the hurt of a previous experience, the loss of a prior relationship and soul mate or even the advancement of old age which makes physical passion less necessary for one's future happiness. Love is most evident when it is seen in a couple holding hands and enjoying their moment of togetherness. When you can share your secrets and your fears with your partner, that's when you know trust is at its highest. I knew I truly loved, once I was prepared to remove my mask of concealed thought and feelings, the mask I often hid behind whenever I feared a certain outcome; the mask I could not live without until you came along and I felt safe enough to remove it and reveal my total nakedness.

Then there is also the one true love you no longer have in your life; the one you lost to another, the one you surrendered to illness or through tragic accident upon the battlefields of war and death itself. It is often so very hard to come back from such loss, to be the person you once were. It is only when your emotions have freed themselves to express once more the things you want but no longer have, that you might find new love. It is only when you allow your heart to be reopened to the possibility of ever finding love anew, only then, can you find the new you; not the person you once were, but the person you now are." William Forde: June 30th, 2016.

June 29th, 2016.

29/6/2016

Thought for today:
"A butterfly preparing to descend on the heart of a flower is like being touched by perfect love for the very first time. All that it takes is a sweet whisper, a gentle gesture, a loving kiss, a tender look or that knowing touch, and one's heart starts to flutter and establishes a beat that was never designed to co-exist with any other experience. You are overcome by the magic of the moment and open up your heart, mind and body to anything that may follow. You are floating above heaven on earth, adrift in a cosmos of possibility among the most brilliant of stars. You are in love!

As the lovely film star of my youth, Jane Powell sang in the 1954 film, 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers', 'When you're in love, really in love there is no way your heart can hide it. When you're in love, really in love, you simply let your heart decide it." William Forde: June 29th, 2016.

https://youtu.be/xMPX9g0fapE

June 28th, 2016.

28/6/2016

Thought for today:
"Oliver Wendell Holmes Senior, the 19th century American poet and author said, 'The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer.'

I have frequently questioned the hygienic sense in allowing one's pet dog to give you or your child a big slobbery kiss and yet, come to think of it, I've never heard of anyone in the whole wide world dying from such a practice during my 73 years of life! It seems to be the preferred way that your dog likes to show its everlasting affection towards your taste; a bit like a pet licking its bowl clean after enjoying a sumptuous meal.

'I said you could have a sniff if you wanted Horace, not a big slobbery kiss. Now calm yourself down before I throw a bucket of cold water over you, you little rascal!' " William Forde: June 28th, 2016.

June 27th, 2016

27/6/2016

"Thought for today:
"One bad thing about old age is by the time you've worked out what you want, polite society considers you too old to have it! On the other side of the coin however, one good thing is when you learn to fart like a lady, no gentleman will ever turn his nose up at you!" William Forde: June 27th, 2016.

June 26th, 2016.

26/6/2016

Thought for today:
"The old saying that the best things come in small packages is often very true, but not always, I might add. An anthropologist study on one of the central African tribes of pigmy people many years ago revealed that despite their absence of height (less than five feet tall) and overall smallness in body size, the small males of the Aka and Mbuti Tribes fathered more children than did taller and larger men of other African tribes and most Europeans. It just goes to show ladies that size doesn't count, but sperm does!

When I was a Probation Officer, training up in Newcastle on Tyne during 1970, being a lover of dancing I was a frequent attender at every dance I could get to. I am relatively small in height (the result of an accident as a child which stunted my growth), but until recent years could always dance well.

There was one young woman on the Probation course whom I befriended called Carol. Carol loved dancing, but nobody ever asked her to dance.The reason was simply that Carol stood over six feet tall. She was naturally conscious of her height and foolishly dressed down in her attempt to minimise it; wearing the flattest of shoes. She always wore 'flatties,' as she called them, never wore a dress and felt that she looked much better in jeans or slacks.

Over the year in Newcastle, me and Carol became the best of friends and surprisingly, we also finished up being regular dancing partners. Given that this was the year of the Shake as opposed to that of the Waltz, dancing together became physically possible. I had always been a rebel and so breaking any stupid rules of etiquette which said small men don't dance with tall women because they both finish up looking a pair of wallies, seemed to me a rule worthy of breaking.

To digress momentarily, after my childhood accident, though small in size, I never felt small in person. Unlike me though, Carol had lacked self confidence for most of her life. However, during our year of daily contact and close association, she was to come out of her shell totally.

One night at the bar while other students were dancing, I noticed Carol there alone drinking a half pint of bitter. She looked somewhat isolated in a room of happy people and for the remainder of that night we spoke. She told me she loved dancing, but felt too conscious because of her height walking to the floor, even if anyone asked her to dance, which they rarely did. The bulk of our conversation that evening was around the problems of her height and how being a six footer made her feel. The evening concluded by me asking her for a dance, but due to the disparity in our height, she declined.

Being a Behaviourist and keen student of psychology at the time, I would often use less conventional thought and methodology whenever approaching problem situations of long-standing order; what many folk might describe as turning things on their head to best advantage.

Carol had agreed to let me help her if possible, overcoming her height consciousness, saying that she'd nothing to lose. Our first private exercises in her room involved her learning to stand on her toes, like a ballet dancer might. This exercise not only physically helped to strengthen her foot arches, but psychologically assisted her in learning to make herself as tall as possible.I also had Carol regularly practising exercises where all posture was upright with head looking straight out, never downwards and spine always straight, never bent, even when she bent her knees to pick a coin off the floor. All of these exercises were supplementary to the breathing, muscle control, imagination exercises and relaxation training I gave her for almost six months. I had used such exercises myself from the age of 12 to help myself stand and walk again after three years of being unable to walk.

Then we spent a number of weeks learning to dance the Shake together. Carol was an excellent dancer and when she moved to the rhythm of the disco music of the times, her long lean body lost all its ungainliness and assumed a sensuality it had previously lacked. A number of weeks were then spent persuading Carol to improve her wardrobe, change her hairstyle and colour and have her nails manicured and eyebrows tweezed. Although a student, being a single child born to financially well-off parents, Carol had no difficulty financing this make-over venture.

Throughout this entire period, when I must confess to having felt a bit like a Professor Higgins, many hours were spent talking about other associated problem areas she wanted addressing. When I considered Carol to be confident enough and after much coaxing, I eventually persuading to wear a stylish short dress that we shopped for together and high heels to the coming dance at the University.

My rationale was that all of her life she had tried to make herself look smaller and plainer by wearing flat shoes, and using a stooping posture in the company of smaller others; anything that made her fit into the background better, but this had not worked and had only made her more miserable and more conscious of her height. She even told me that in her middle teens, she would compensate for her height by looking for boyfriends over six feet tall only, be they good or bad, likeable or not. I told Carol that her good looks were there to make her stand out in a crowd, not blend in the background like a wallflower!

Carol had a natural beauty both inner and outer and eventually she came out to the University dance one Saturday night dressed to the nines. Her new hair style and fashionable dress showed off her gorgeous figure to maximum advantage, but it was the 4-inch-high-heels that clinched it! Carol had the longest legs in the dance room, but Carol also had the best pair of legs on the floor, and the high heels made them look even better. For the first time in her life, Carol felt good to be the tallest on the floor and to stand out from all others in the most positive of light. She confessed to having danced more that night than she had in all her previous life.

For three or four years after the Probation Course had concluded, we kept in touch. During these years her confidence grew and I was proud to witness her pass out when she joined the Northumbrian Police Service. Though I was unable to attend her wedding, she married someone who stood 5 feet 8 inches tall (six inches smaller than herself), and though her long satin dress covered them from sight of wedding guests as she walked down the aisle, she proudly told me afterwards that she wore 4-inch-high-heels!

Whenever I see a very tall woman today dressing down and wearing flatties, I am sorely tempted to pull her to one side and tell her about the tallest woman I was ever privileged to know.

While I have told you of a significant part of my relationship with Carol, some of the men out there will realise that I haven't told you all whilst all of the women know that I never would. What I can tell you however, is what Carol taught me. Despite being tall in height, Carol taught me that any small or tall woman can lead any man, big or small, a merry dance; so long as she has what the man hasn't, but wants." William Forde: June 26th, 2016.

https://youtu.be/n-XQ26KePUQ

December 31st, 1969

25/6/2016

June 25th, 2016

25/6/2016

Thought for today:
"My thought today is one that I have not discussed with you before and to do it justice, I cannot broach it sparingly.

'If I had my life to live over again, the next time I would find you sooner and I could love you longer.' These were words I heard spoken by a homosexual friend of mine to his partner over thirty years ago. The time was during the mid 80's when Aids became the greatest scourge of the homosexual world and many heterosexuals thought that this killer disease could be transferred simply by shaking hands or drinking out of the same cup as an infected person.

All of my earlier life, I had been reared in a Catholic household believing that intimate relationships between people of the same sex were 'abominable.' At that time, the church, the state and society at large outlawed such practices and until 1967, homosexuality was a criminal offence under any set of circumstances. Although I wasn't aware at the time in which I grew up, but there had always been discrimination against homosexuals deeply entrenched in the minds of the majority. Even many years after it had become legally acceptable between consenting adults, it still remained socially and religiously unacceptable. Many who are older and of my generation, may probably never be able to get their head around homosexual behaviour or see it as being normal/natural to be sexually intimate with a person of the same sex, and will knowingly or unknowingly, silently or vociferously discriminate against such practices until the end of their days.

I recall during the 1970's, the moment when my view towards homosexuals started to change and become more rationally based. At the time, I was one of the few Probation Officers in Great Britain practising 'Behaviour Modification' as a method of work in seeking to change illegal and deviant behaviour. This method of working was born in America and during its earlier years, it had acquired a bad name for having used Electroconvulsive Therapy (shock treatment) to change certain behaviours that were thought to be deviant. While this 'treatment' had many successes in changing some deviant behaviour during the 70s and 80s, the mere fact that it was never once demonstrated to have changed the long term sexual thoughts and feelings of a homosexual towards a person of the same sex was enough to convince me that for the homosexual, it was perfectly natural to be homosexual!

As a practising behaviourist, it mattered not to me whether homosexual behaviour had been brought about by human defect or design. Physiological body evidence of the time seemed to suggest in medical surveys, the existence of a malfunctioning created by an electro-chemical imbalance in the mind/body of the homosexual. This effectively told me that the gay person had been genetically programmed that way and therefore, for him or her, it was perfectly natural to think, feel and behave that way! Later, research by numerous eminent others globally suggested that if society wishes to see a homosexual as being influenced by deviant behaviour, then such a deviancy can be shown to be one of an electro/chemical imbalance that they are born with and not responsible for, anymore than you or I for having been born with brown or blue eyes, dark or fair hair.

Being an avid reader and the lover of words, in the 80's I frequently read over six books a week. I became intrigued by the word, 'gay,' when used as either an adjective or noun. I was curious as to why this term had changed over the centuries and had become more acceptable both by society at large and homosexuals in particular as their preferred description of usage. I was also eager to learn more about gays, especially as so many favourite authors of mine were said to be of this nature such, as Oscar Wilde and Virginia Woolf to name but two.

The word “gay” seems to have its origins as early as the 12th century in England and was derived from the old French word ‘gai.’ The word’s original meaning meant something to the effect of 'joyful', 'carefree', and 'bright and showy'. Around the early parts of the 17th century, the word became associated with immorality. By the mid 17th century, the word came to mean 'of loose and immoral living'.

Fast-forward to the 19th century and the word 'gay' referred to a woman who was a prostitute and a 'gay man' was someone who slept with a lot of women (ironically enough), often prostitutes. Also at this time, the phrase “gay it” meant to have sex.

Around the 1920's and 1930's, the word was given a new interpretation. In terms of the sexual meaning, a “gay man” no longer just meant a man who had sex with a lot of women, but also referred to men who had sex with other men. There was also another word, “gey cat” at this time, which meant a homosexual boy.

By 1955, the word 'gay' had officially acquired new definition; now meaning 'homosexual males.' Gay men themselves seem to have been behind the driving thrust for this new label as they felt (and many still do), that 'homosexual' is much too clinical sounding and suggests a disorder. At this time, homosexual women were referred to as lesbians, not 'gay.'

Since then, 'gay', meaning 'homosexual' has steadily driven out all the other definitions that have floated about through time and the term now refers to both men and women who are of homosexual nature.

It is not for me to moralise about the sexual practices between gays any more than it would be appropriate to moralise about any of the sexual practices between heterosexuals. What I can attest to is the experience that knowing some gay friends has greatly enriched me as a person. Although having been an expressive person all my life, there was a 'female side' of me that I'd been unable to get in touch with and which my gay friends helped me to 'out.' This side dealt with what many males considered as traditional 'female' emotions; those types of feelings that men believe they should not express in public and frequently feel uncomfortable having: especially those of us who, like me, were reared by 'manly' fathers of the John Wayne ilk who believed that 'a man's got to do what a man's got to do', along with the belief that 'big boys don't cry.'

The most important gay influence on me was to give myself permission to cry if either the occasion or the extent of my emotions determined it. The next important thing my gay friends taught me was to place the importance of my 'feelings' above that of my 'reasoning' wherever movement of the heart was concerned.

On a less serious side, I must end with one female practice that has always puzzled me. It is a piece of behaviour that only women seem to engage in that no man does, whether gay or heterosexual, and which no terminology or common phrase has yet managed to describe. I refer to the practice of women preferring to go to the toilets in a posse as opposed to on their own. I don't know where that practice stems from as I cannot find reference to it in any of my historical books, but I must say that it seems highly 'unnatural' to me, and given the opportunity, I'd criminalise it tomorrow!" William Forde: June 25th, 2016.

December 31st, 1969

24/6/2016

June 24th, 2016.

24/6/2016

Thought for today:
"Tidal waves illustrate all there is to say about life in general. They represent our 'hellos' and 'goodbyes' from day to day. Their ebb and flow mirrors our breathing in and out of all our activity. When life threatens to overwhelm us, our choices are to either surf its towering waters or go under and drown in the depths of its despair.

Take note from the sea of life. Never give up, for there will surely be a moment of time and place when the tide will turn for the good and change our destiny. I believe today to be such a day for Great Britain.

While I am naturally pleased that Britain voted to Leave the European Union, I recognise the disappointment, apprehension and even fear that many Remain voters will undoubtedly feel right now. They probably have an image in their mind about a future Britain outside the European Union which frightens them. If that is so, the only way out of this negative mental trap is to change that image and replace it with a more positive one that accords with the new reality of the dawn. This process of mental shift is the basis of all stress reduction, transcendental meditation and relaxation methods.

As I said in my post two days ago, living in a new world necessitates facing our fears and learning to believe in ourselves and learning to believe in our country once more. If this doesn't put a tiger back in your tank, it will undoubtedly put some national pride and bite back in your British bulldog spirit. As a born and bred Irishman who has lived in England most of my life, I have not felt prouder to consider myself British for many a long year than I do today. I look forward to the challenges ahead and the national prosperity that successfully facing and overcoming them can bring ourselves, our children and grandchildren. I also look forward to the English football team winning the European Cup!" William Forde: June 24th, 2016.

June 23rd, 2016.

23/6/2016

Thought for today:
"When we first established our 'friends with benefits' relationship on January 1st, 1973, I foolishly believed all of the promises you made to me about our happy union together, but during the past forty three years, your naked desire to have all of me without giving back anything of substance in return has finally opened my eyes. You deceived me wilfully throughout. You have stripped me of everything I was brought up to cherish, everything my father and grandfather fought for during two World Wars.

During the years we have been together, you have bullied and brow beaten me to abandon all of my ways and adopt yours. You have treated any innocent association I have ever dared to have with another with the jealous and punitive response of a control freak; reminding me constantly that without you, I am nothing and could not exist, and threatening me with all manner of fearful threats should I ever try to leave you.

When I think back upon our relationship, I have to conclude that during the whole of the past 43 years we have never really been together. All that has happened is that you have done your own thing, irrespective of what I've wanted and just expected me to tag along behind you like a grateful and obedient partner.

During these years of union, you have done everything to increase my dependency on you. Fearful that I might one day run away from you at the first opportunity, you have removed all my protective garments. You have stripped me of my sovereignty, my independence, my national pride, my basic rights and my freedom to choose my own destiny.

I'm having no more of this failed marriage! I'm having no more of you! I want out! I'm LEAVING you, you bully!"
https://youtu.be/UVzXVmoOGjQ

William Forde: June 23rd, 2016.

June 22nd, 2016.

22/6/2016

There have been three momentous decisions I have needed to take in my life; when I was 11 years old, after an accident I was told that I'd never walk again and at the age of 71 years when I learned that I had a terminal illness. On the first occasion, I needed to face the fear and learn to believe in myself before I did walk again. On the second occasion I needed to face the fear and believe in myself that whatever life I had remaining, I would live it. Tomorrow, when I am asked to either vote Remain or Leave, I will have to face the fear element involved in either decision I might make. If my vote is to Remain, I shall need to believe in myself and get on with it. If my decision is to Leave, I will have to believe in myself and in my country that we can make it work!

On 30 January 1649, King Charles the First was beheaded outside Banqueting House in Whitehall. The assembled crowd is reported to have groaned as the axe came down. Although the monarchy was later restored in 1660, the execution of Charles the First destroyed the idea of an all-powerful and unquestionable monarch who was determined never to allow the sovereignty of the country's Parliament to rule supreme.

This great country of ours once cut off the head of a King just to give our Parliament freedom to make its own laws, raise its own taxes and govern its own borders and decide its own matters. Why then, oh why, are we prepared to hand our sovereignty over to five unelected Brussel puppets on a plate, when their very titles of President of this and President of that betrays their very desire to federalise the European Union?:
Martin Schulz; President of the European Parliament since 1st July 2014.
Jean-Claude Junker; the President of the European Commission since 1st November 2014.
Donald Tusk; President of the European Council since 1st December 2014.
Jeroen Dijsselbloem : the President of the European Central Bank since 5th November 2012.
Mario Draghi : the President of the European Parliament since 1st November, 2011.

Our Prime Minister, David Cameron tells us that all of the European Heads of State, the world's bankers, all financial institutions, countless economists, numerous connected establishments and organisations confirm all the unacceptable risks and bad things that will follow if we vote not to remain a member tomorrow. In those famous words of Mandy Rice Davis, 'He would, wouldn't he!'

And the reason why all of these eminent bodies, who have invariably got it wrong more than once over the past decade on a number of major things, want Britain to Remain is to preserve the status quo which is simply shorthand for, 'No change means protect my vested interests, obscene bonuses, fat pensions and Prime Minister honour awards!' All of these bodies predicting doom and gloom if we leave are part of the European Establishment, a corrupt cartel of vested interests and protectionist trade policies, who enable their 'establishment partners' to preserve the status quo, however many times they fail us and have to be bailed out with our money!

Let me tell you, nobody knows how leaving will affect Great Britain economically. In all probability, because of the volatility of the stock market, we would probably take an initial hit from which we would soon recover. However, anyone with a brain in their head can jolly well guess that if we Remain as the European Union is getting more bankrupt daily (practically and morally), has growing unemployment levels for the young person approaching 50% in a number of countries, with Greece fast approaching another bail out and Italy showing signs of one soon to come, along with the greatest exodus of refugees and economic migrants on the move and entering Europe day by day, something will have to give!
And if things go to pattern and we do foolishly vote to Remain, it will be the British Government who will be required to do the most 'giving' to the European money pit. Already, we can see the French attempting to place fear into the hearts of those who will vote to Leave, by freely allowing thousands of economic migrants to camp all along the French coast line, many of them young children, ready to cross the English Channel.

Please note that I am not against the freedom of peoples to migrate; even on economic grounds, providing the country of entry has the wherewithal and the backup services of social, housing, schools and hospitals to accommodate them humanely. To do otherwise is to offer false hope. I do and will always believe that every country in the world should remain open to genuine asylum seekers and can benefit both culturally and economically from migrants in managed and desired numbers.As to the volume of such numbers, that should be for each country to decide at given times. That is controlled migration!

We were told yesterday by Steve Hilton, the PM's former director of strategy, that David Cameron was told 'explicitly and directly' by civil servants four years ago that it was 'impossible' for the government to meet its flagship immigration pledge of reducing net migration to below 100,000 because of 'free movement'. Being told that however, did not prevent that pledge being featured in last year's Tory manifesto. When put to Downing Street, a spokesman for the PM replied, 'We simply do not recognise this story,' which is current political jargon for, 'I'm not saying it's true or it's false; merely that I am refusing to acknowledge it!' Or as a four-year-old child might say while sticking his fingers in his ears at something he doesn't want to hear, 'LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!'

As far as speaking the truth is concerned, I'm no more inclined to believe Davis Cameron of late on any subject he pronounces upon any more than I did, Tony Blair, who led Parliament and the British electorate down the garden path over Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. And whilst we are on the subject of gardens, it has been a long held British tradition to have a picket fence around ours instead of being opened planned. This doesn't mean we do not open our garden gate to allow people in, but merely that we decide how often to open it, who we let in and how many we allow in at one go!

I do feel however, that it represents the height of hypocrisy to actively discriminate against immigrants from outside the Eurozone as opposed to those within this European cartel of corrupt practices who actively refuse 'free trade' to poorer countries and instead offset their guilt by the annual offer of foreign aid; the major effect of which is to increase their dependency!

As the result of an accident in my childhood, I was unable to walk for three years. During this time of traditional restriction, I had to find other ways of getting around on my own steam if I wanted to maintain my self respect and dignity. Consequently, I grew up very independent, believing not to do for anybody, something they could do for themselves. When I joined the Probation Service in 1971, I had a colleague at my office of work who walked ungainly and slowly due to a bodily condition which partly disabled her. Whenever my colleague entered the staff room, someone would always go out of their way to make her a cup of tea, a practice she not only encouraged, but came to expect. Through their blind assistance, they were merely aggravating her level of dependency on others while thinking their action as being benevolent.

The above example is no different to taking away national respect and dignity from a country of poor people by blockading the sale of their goods on a free and open market and instead, year after year, increasing their dependency upon foreign aid handouts to assuage western guilt for having deprived them of the means of earning their living in the first place!

Likewise, while I welcome nationalities world wide into our National Health Practice and hospitals, to advertise specifically for them in their own countries instead of promoting more nursing courses for British folk is wrong. What gives us the right to head hunt the skilled labour of third world countries to emigrate to ours to seek work and higher wages when such skills are needed every bit as much, if not more, in their own country of origin? I see this practice as something to be ashamed of, not proud; something no less harmful than plundering other countries of their natural resources simply because we possess the means and temptation of monetary rewards to do so!

I make no apology for wanting to vote Leave tomorrow and I feel that my track record against racism since teenage years is second to none. As the youngest shop steward in Great Britain in 1961/62, I led a strike of almost 400 men and women, because the owner of the textile firm where I worked refused to hire a West Indian who was well qualified to fill the advertised vacancy. This was at a time when Great Britain was openly racist! I deeply resent the implications that many politicians seem quick to make today, that anyone who is genuinely concerned about current immigration policy is a promoter of racist dogma and hate, and is against migration per se. That is not only blatant nonsense, it is also a lie!
There are three things you can bank on to be an absolute certainty in your life; death and taxes being just two. The third is that no country can ever exercise pride and self-respect when their governments have deliberately gone behind the backs of their electorate and relinquished their own Parliamentary supremacy to an unelected foreign body to exercise on our behalf!

Even a rat will desert a sinking ship if it wishes to survive the pending disaster. Even the lowest of rodents knows that it cannot be in a future position to save others if it cannot save itself, and believe me, the concept of the European Union is fast sinking and is on the verge of going under. However noble one's intention towards others, however willing and able one usually is to help others, no person can perform to their own expectation if they find themselves ill, overwhelmed or handicapped. One needs to be in a good state oneself before one can truly help others more needy!

Had we known in advance in 2008, the consequences of the bank failures and what the economic world recession to follow would bring, would we not have taken some sensible precaution to protect our families from its worse effects? Of course we would! Why then do we not act now while there is still time to take charge of events rather than merely follow them. Far better to remain free from the shackles of Europe and be in a better position to truly help our own population as well as the migrant. Far far better to take a financial hit now, if that is the price to be paid, than to become bankrupt further down the line and instead take a battering from which is harder to recover!!

Money is not the be all and end all of a man's life or the measure of a nation's worth, whereas respect, free will, self government, along with the independence to choose how, we as a country live, conduct our lives and help others in the process is!

It is time to start governing ourselves once more! I say reject the pessimistic view and the Project Fear that the Remain campaigners seek to thrust at you in their attempts to talk down Great Britain to exist outside the single market and seize back the pride and self belief that witnessed this country win two world wars against all odds. As to these five unelected European Presidents who are seeking to achieve that which Charles the First or Adolf Hitler couldn't, I say, 'Bring back the Madam Guillotine and off with their heads!'

Vote Leave tomorrow and take back control of your country!" William Forde: June 22nd, 2016.

June 21st, 2016.

22/6/2016

'What is Love?' by William Forde

Love is positive energy, excitement and blind belief
that who you love, loves you in equal measure.
Love is ever faithful and contained,
its worth far far more than any other treasure
to be found on earth, below ground or in the sky above.
It's who you were, it's who you are, it's who you'll be,
it's you, it's me, it's love.

William Forde: Copyright June 21st, 2016.

June 20th, 2016.

20/6/2016

Thought for today:
"I have always been led to believe that until you've been there, done it and bought the t-shirt that 'you shouldn't knock it!' In my time, I've certainly heard of many clever and inventive ways to keep door-to-door salesmen, Jehovah's Witnesses, rent collectors, political canvassers away from your door, but this method is a bit below the belt if you ask me!" William Forde: June 20th, 2016.

June 19th, 2016.

19/6/2016

Thought for today:
"Today is my sister Eileen's birthday. I have always believed that having a sister is God's way of making sure you never have to walk alone. I am the eldest of seven siblings and Eileen is the third in family line. Each sibling has different traits and character strengths and without a shadow of doubt, a few stand out more than all others with my sister Eileen.

Eileen is first and foremost the most sensible family member in the seven of us. She is probably the most accessible one and is the wisest counsellor as she is the listener of the family.

Whereas the rest of us, whenever we hold a family conversation at a social gathering, nobody can get a word in if one waits for too long a pause between sentences. I suspect that when one is brought up in a large family and there is only food enough for five at breakfast time, but there are seven children descending the stairs, one soon learns to push and shove and raise one's voice in the stakes for survival. Another family hearing us in a pub would guess there to be a heated argument in progress instead of a good old family discussion. Indeed, a stranger observing Eileen being the only one listening, might think her to be a friendly neighbour instead of one of the rowdy Forde family.

Another strong character trait about Eileen is that 'she is a stayer.' Whatever the situation, she seems to possess the capacity to sit it out and see it through. She is a person whom once she has started reading a book, will read it to the end before deciding its merits. Eileen displays a patience that puts lesser mortals to shame. She has never once bought what she couldn't afford to buy because she has the patience to wait until she can pay for it. It is perhaps no surprise that she and her husband John, the steadiest and most reliable of men, have been married for over fifty years.

God forgive, but should ever any of my three sisters die before me, I could never think them not being there with me, as they are part of me. I loved you yesterday and I love you still; I'll love you tomorrow, Eileen and I always will. Happy birthday, sister. Your big brother Billy x" William Forde: June 19th, 2016.

The picture was taken a number of years ago when me and Eileen visited Jersey for a week.

June 18th, 2016

18/6/2016

Thought for today:
"I was brought up saying grace at the table for the food we ate at each meal. By my teens, the words had got abandoned and a simple making of the sign of the cross seemed to suffice. By the time I was in my twenties, both the words and the symbolism had vanished from my table completely.

In my 70th year of life, after making close friends with neighbours Dave and Miriam, the practice of saying grace was reintroduced into my life by them whenever we meet for a joint meal at our respective homes. We say grace for three main reasons; to offer personal thanks to God for the food upon our table, for the people around it and for consideration of the occasion.

I'd like to say that the food tastes better for the saying of grace before eating it, but sadly any such claim would be purely subjective. What I can say however, is that I most certainly feel better, especially when I think about the third world, many of whom starve regularly and go in want daily." William Forde: June 18th, 2016.

June 17th, 2016.

17/6/2016

Thought for today:
"Yesterday, the Labour MP for Batley and Spen, Jo Cox was murdered in the streets of Birstall, leaving behind a husband, children and country to mourn her passing. Only elected to Parliament one year ago, her compassion and genuine goodness crossed all political parties to mark her out as a 'family member' whom all the House along with her constituents greatly respected and admired. God rest her soul and bless her family in the time ahead.

Speaking of family, today is my sister Mary's birthday. Mary is 18 months younger than me and is far bossier in personality. Since our mother died thirty years ago, she has adopted the matriarchal family role. She plays the role of 'Gate keeper' in the Forde Family. Nothing ever escapes her attention or gets passed her without her approval.

Every partner, fiancee or spouse that one of her brothers or sisters has ever had cannot be fully accepted into the Forde Family without Mary's approval. If she says that they are okay, then they're in, but if she gives them the 'thumbs down' sign, it is far better to get rid sooner rather than later.

Throughout our development, me and my next two sisters in line, Mary and Eileen have always been the closest in shared experiences and sibling affection. I am the eldest in a family of seven children and an 18 month gap separates me and Mary, and a one year gap, Mary from Eileen. Until my ninth year of age, the three of us even shared the same bed; a situation that the Social Services would prosecute parents for today and throw away the key.

Most of my adult life, myself and Eileen have always referred to Mary as 'Blessed Mary.' This is because she has never driven a car at 31 mph in a 30 mph area or has ever dared to park on double yellow lines. Both me and Eileen are convinced that she has never looked twice at another man outside her husband, has never committed a mortal sin or ever collected a parking ticket or picked her nose!

I have always grown older believing Mary not to possess one ounce of badness in her bones, but have in more recent years noticed how her poor bones have deteriorated. During the past few years she has had a knee and hip replacement and has been plagued with rheumatism in her hands, a condition I might add which has corresponded with the outbreak of a few character flaws I've also noticed during her weaker moments.

Our Mary has this annoying habit of asking you a question and before she has given you an opportunity to answer it, she has asked you another question or has started a conversation with another person in the room. In fact, I doubt she has ever started a conversation and ended it before starting another with someone else, or listened to the conversation of two other people for longer than one minute without feeling the need to butt in and interrupt their flow.

All in all though, given that we've known each other over seventy years now, I feel sure that we'll be able to rub along okay, so long as she learns to pause for breath between one sentence and the next. In this world of uncertainty, it is refreshing to have some things close to you that remain forever constant and which you can remain certain of.

I know that if I go to the other side of the green sod before Mary, she will still talk to me even though I've already left the room, and if she passes over first, she will still butt into my conversation from the other side of life to ask a question, the answer to which she will not wait for before continuing with her next train of haunting thought.

My final certainty about Mary is that I love her dearly as I know she does me. We are family through and through. Happy birthday sister. Your big brother Billy x" William Forde: June 17th, 2016.

June 16th, 2016.

16/6/2016

"Thought for today:
"There are no words that can adequately express the unconditional love that exists between a mother and her child; there is no person who can take a mother's place. The one certainty that constantly existed in my life from the moment I was born was that my mother loved me and always would.

Being the oldest child of seven, I knew that I was 'special' because she daily told me and never let me forget it. Being told at every opportunity that I was 'special' naturally made me feel 'special' and in time, I came to believe that I was 'special.' I was well into my teens before I realised that every child is 'special' to their mother and I was almost thirty before it dawned on me that everyone and everything in this great big world of ours is 'special.'

At the age of 11 years following a serious traffic accident when a wagon ran over me and twisted my body around its propeller shaft, I was expected to die. When I didn't, my mother believed that it wasn't the skill of the hospital surgeon or the administering of the Last Sacraments by the Catholic Church who were primarily responsible for my recovery, but because I was 'special' and still had great things to achieve in this world. To my mother, the mere fact that I had faced death and survived it against the odds merely reaffirmed my 'specialness' and after the press had described me as a 'miracle boy', I was instantly promoted to being a miracle son in my mother's eyes and remained forever after 'miraculous' in them. When a mother believes so much in a child, it becomes impossible for the child not to believe in self enough to automatically guarantee success.

When I was growing up and had done some wrong, my mother could always sense it, even before anyone told her. She seemed to possess a seventh sense which had purposely been given to her by the Lord to know what I was thinking, even when I didn't say it. It was as if she had been endowed with the power to catch me out whenever I tried to get one over on her.

Being the mother of a Catholic household, she told me many times, 'Billy Forde, know that God is everywhere and sees all things, so it's no good trying to deceive Him as well as me.' While I was prepared to believe that God was everywhere, I also believed that even He took a nap sometimes and didn't see absolutely everything I did, and that was why He made my mother; to keep an eye on me when He wasn't watching!

When you were alive and I'd say, 'I love you Mum,' it wasn't out of habit that led me to say so, but to remind you that you were the best thing that ever happened to me and that without you I may never have known my 'specialness'. You represented to me the wheel of life, a neverending circle that could never separate us. I started within you, Mum, and when you died and I was left without your earthly presence, I felt that a large part of my life had also ended and would never again be quite the same.

When I now think back, Mum, on all your actions I recall, it was undoubtedly you who was the miracle worker and not I. Watching you feed a husband, self and seven children on the smallest amount of food was every bit as big a miracle in my eyes as that of Jesus feeding the 5000 on five loaves and five fishes.

Mothers rarely let go of their children, so children invariably give way to spousal pressure and let go of them. When you died, Mum, at the early age of 64 years, for weeks I cried and for years after I refused to let go of you. I suppose that in my heart of hearts I have never really let you go and while I possess a memory to recall your spoken word and see your smiling face, I guess I never will. I suspect that the umbilical cord that enjoined us at my by birth could not be broken even by your death and that our life is as one until it is no more for either of us." William Forde: June 16th, 2016.

June 15th, 2016.

15/6/2016

Thought for today:
"If it be our desire to administer mercy to those in greatest need, our task should be to constantly enlarge our circle of care in a world of concern and compassion. We are all creatures who are supposed to be able to live alongside each other peaceably.

All living things need warmth on cold nights, food to eat and companionship to share. It is mankind's duty to look after the visitor who sleeps upon his land while looking for a better life. Neither man nor creature was ever meant to strive for basic survival or stray too far from civilisation and the understanding of their own kind. It is only when we free ourselves from the shackles of possession and ownership that we are able to inherit the goodness we were born with to dispense in equal measure.

In many ways, the strays of the animal kingdom are no less significant or more important than the exodus of wandering man. Why then do we treat humans differently to animals in the degree of compassion we give out to them? I very much suspect it is because we are more prepared to look into the eyes of a suffering animal who has strayed from the safety of a good home and see the nature of the want which stares back at us.

Show society a suffering human stray in identical circumstances however, and the human tendency is to look away and quickly walk on by. How are we able to do this when their need is just as great as the stray dog and their prospect of receiving stranger help far less likely?

The only possible explanation is that somewhere along the road of 'progress,' mankind developed the capacity to unharness his humanity, suspend his critical faculties, abandon his capacity to care for his fellow being, harden his heart to their suffering, deafen his ears to their cries of anguish and pain and learned to close his eyes to the uglier consequences of allowing life to pass by and doing nothing.

In his defence, mankind often holds up their compassion for the dumb animal as their evidence for being a caring human being and a kind person. It is however, self delusional to accept your dog's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are indeed 'wonderful.'

If you don't believe me, starve your pet for one week and then allow the horrible neighbour across the road (who was just released from a twenty-five year prison sentence for murdering three innocent children, their parents and 94 year old grandmother), to place a piece of juicy meat on his front lawn and watch your faithful breed stray towards survival.

At the end of the day, even a dumb creature will do what is necessary and seems more natural to survive. Why not then, one endowed with a human brain?" William Forde: June 15th, 2016.

June 14th, 2016.

14/6/2016

Thought for today:
"All people are different in their nature and in the amount they feel comfortable telling us about their background and self. Whereas one person seems perfectly at home to let it all hang out there and reveal everything to all and sundry, another would die of embarrassment were some private aspect of their past or present life be publicly revealed about them.

I was brought up in the 50s and though the average family had less to live on than any family has today, you would never have guessed it. I recall that whenever an unexpected visitor called to the family home, however sparse the pantry was, whatever my mother had to eat was put out on the table for the guest. There has been many an occasion when a visitor ate my evening meal in a sandwich without ever knowing it. I also recall our family living on tick from one week to the next. We would pay the grocer, Harry Hodgson for this week's groceries from dad's next week's wage packet! Often, Harry would know when mum entered the shop that her order would be on the tick, but pride would allow mum to disguise our poverty from the queue behind her. Instead of extracting a ten bob note from her purse to pay for the required food wanted that day, mum would palm Harry a piece of paper which explained she would pay him when dad next got his wage packet. Harry, God bless him, always played the game and rang up the till in which he placed mum's note and gave her a few coppers change to complete the pretence (which he would naturally add to the eventual bill). I only learned in later years that half of the mums on Windybank Estate played the same game with Harry as did my mum as they shared the same queue in his shop!

Every Friday, the households on the estate would get the weekly 'Spenborough Guardian,' where the news that was most sought after was the news that shamed. Of most interest would be discovering those who'd been fined for failing to have a dog licence or no tv licence; and who had appeared before a court for poaching or some drunk and disorderly offence. Only once in a blue moon did one ever read about some dirty old man in a mackintosh raincoat frightening walkers down the fields of Green Lane. Then, there was also the obituary column, revealing who had died rich, who had died poor and who had died in debt. I often imagined Harry Hodgson hurrying to read the obituary column on a Friday morning to find out who'd died owing him a weekly grocery bill that would now never be paid!

My father was a miner at a colliery in Birstall for many years. Every day the miners would take sandwiches to work in their lunch boxes, but few ever revealed the simple fare that often filled them as they ate in dusty silence. I remember being told about one miner who daily bragged to his workmates each lunch time underground about the beautiful sandwiches his wife had packed him that day. 'What's she given you today, Jack, you lucky bugger?' his mining mates would ask smilingly as they ate their bread and jam. Jack would reply, 'Beautiful ham and cheese again today, boys.' Jack and his wife had been separated since she walked out on him two years earlier for a younger man, but being ashamed to reveal this fact to his work mates, he preferred to carry on with his daily pretence that she made him sandwiches to die for instead of the jam or fish paste spread between the slices of bread he'd put there himself. Unknown to Jack, all his work mates knew the truth, but never shamed him by letting on that he was kidding nobody.

When my first mother-in-law, Dorothy died, I nursed her at home during her last three weeks of life. Two days before she died, she revealed to me, that her first child had been a son who had been born to a soldier out of wedlock. As was often customary in those war years, the child was reared by a distant relative and brought up as their own child. Dorothy later married and had two daughters. Apart from her only brother and the distant relative who'd adopted the child, nobody ever knew about this secret family arrangement; not even Dorothy's husband. A few years after my mother-in law's death, having learned of this secret, I eventually told my ex wife and her sister, but neither of them ever chose to initiate contact with their brother.

When I was first married in the 70s, compensation from an earlier accident in life enabled me to purchase outright a brand new detached house in Mirfield and five couples in the Avenue became the closest of friends. We would socialise weekly as a group, dine at each other's house in rota fashion and even go on holidays together. One of my friends lost his well paid sales job and was so ashamed at being out of work that he pretended to go out to his work daily rather then tell his wife and feel a failure. It was almost four months before his wife learned that he'd been unemployed and had been borrowing large amounts of money to live on.

Friends cheating on their wives or husbands is always a dilemma for most of us. My best friend's wife was cheating on him with another man and all the group knew about it except Christopher (my best mate) and myself. Indeed, three of the other women in the group even provided Chris' unfaithful wife with false alibis on certain nights; saying she was with them instead of being out with her lover. When I eventually learned this I was angry, especially as my wife had been one of the women providing a false alibi. At the first opportunity I felt duty bound to tell Christopher. His marriage ended in divorce, he moved area and I never saw him again.

After my first marriage ended in divorce and the usual period of feeling sorry for oneself had passed, me and another male friend went out dancing to the Mecca Ballroom in Bradford. While we both loved dancing, being foot loose and fancy free, we each had our mind on other things; preferably good looking women who were also prepared to be good time girls. We each decided to take our own cars in the event that were were lucky in our pursuit by the end of the night.

We had a great night out and by the end of the evening, we had each found a good looking partner to take home. My partner was a very nice woman, but was obviously a person who had some unresolved issues. She talked a lot on our way home and I half-listened. To my shame, I'd have to confess that my mind was elsewhere throughout the journey. The upshot was that while we were both happy to become closely acquainted for a first meeting, she probably needed to talk much more than I did. When she talked, her content was highly relevant to whatever problems she was experiencing at the time and represented in large measure, the unravelling of her life story. This seriousness of her situation contrasted greatly with the smallness of my conversation. While she was opening up her life to me, what I'd been prepared to tell her about myself concealed much and revealed little. It wasn't that I lied, but I undoubtedly deceived and misled by omission. I had been prepared to let her reveal all, and though she was also willing to fully engage with me, her mind was clearly on tomorrow whereas mine was most definitely on tonight!

The day after I felt so bad by the behaviour I'd displayed the previous night that I determined there and then, it would never reoccur. The situation was made all the more ironic by the fact that I had been trained in a job that paid me to listen to the troubles of others and to problem solve. Last night's listening by me had been halfhearted at best. In truth, I felt very disappointed with myself for the lack of respect I had shown towards her overall situation. I vowed there and then never again to place my own needs above that of another's and however difficult or embarrassing it might prove, to be fully open in all I said and did thereafter.

I have, to the best of my ability, kept this promise to myself that I made 40 years ago. I won't pretend that it never presented problems to be open and truthful at all times and in all situations since, but it has become easier to carry on with the passing of every day. I can say that it has made me a much happier person with myself and my environment and there is not one thing that would ever induce me to return to the man I once was instead of remaining the person I am today." William Forde: June 14th, 2016.

June 13th, 2016.

13/6/2016

Thought for today:

'Daydreams' by William Forde

'Daydreams, invader of my dearest hopes, and sentry of my warm desire.
To touch passion I have yet to hold, to sit beside you by the fire
is all I ask of you my love, is all the love I have to give,
is all the life I want to live, in daydreams.

Dreamers, learn not to fall out of love, to curse the stars from up above.
They see things in soft haze of day, their life consists of dreams at play.
Happiness, hope and pleasure too, marriage vows, eternal light, forever happiness in sight, is all we see when all we do is live, in daydreams.'

William Forde: Copyright June 13th, 2016.

June 12th, 2016.

12/6/2016

Thought for today:
"The greatest of all freedoms mankind was ever granted by his Maker was their 'freedom of choice,' and it is this aspect of our functioning which clearly distinguishes us from all other form of animal life.

So often in my life as a Christian have I had the conundrum posed by non-believers, 'If there is a God in this world, why does He allow such cruelty and tyranny to exist? Why doesn't He prevent all heartache and stop all suffering?'

While it is often hard to take this fact on board, most of the world's suffering is man made; suffering which has come into play either through man's design or deliberations, actions meant or unintended. The remainder of the world's suffering springs as a product of mankind's 'free will' which is exercised throughout one's life, every moment of every day by every human on the planet. The result of such 'free will' produces a response to every reaction, a consequence to every act and reveals a cause behind every effect.

Hence, the only way that God could remove all pain and suffering would be to take away the 'free will' He gave to mankind. Unfortunately, to do that would be tantamount to making all ideas, feelings, actions and intent meaningless and to render all emotions that one is capable of expressing, redundant. There could be no more happiness without the existence of its counterpart sadness, no more pleasure without the existence of pain and the presence of no emotion without the accompaniment of its opposite.

Just think about it; no more feeling alive. One might as well have never been born!" William Forde: June 12th, 2016.

June 11th, 2016

11/6/2016

Thought for today:
"There are some people who always manage to do 'just enough' to get by in life and then there are others who do far more than is ever asked of them or required. It can often be difficult to judge when 'enough is enough', whether we be an artist or author and cannot be sure if our painting or book is complete enough to consider it 'finished.' Similarly, with relationships that have gone stale and have past their natural 'sell by date'; it is often hard for a lover or partner to know that the relationship has run its course and is now 'over.' Sometimes we have to create our own closure instead of waiting for another to end things for us.

Man is an overindulgent creature who is never completely satisfied until he has had more than is required. All manner of 'overindulgence' by mankind eventually leads to greedier appetites, whether it be food, drink, drugs, land, wealth, status, sex or power, and when the addiction is at its greatest, the subject loses the ability to recognise and rationalise that 'enough is enough.'

When I was a young lad and black and white television had just emerged, most of the hours watched involved lots of serious discussion by old men smoking pipes and telling the world how it could spin better on a more understanding axis, if only we accepted their worldly wisdom advocating this change or that in our behaviour. One such old buffer spouting at the time was a man who was born at the turn of the century called Malcolm Muggeridge.

Thomas Malcolm Muggeridge, was a British journalist, author, media personality and satirist. As a young man, Muggeridge was a left-wing sympathiser, but he later became a forceful anti-communist. I can still recall his words coming from that box in our living room over sixty years ago, as though he spoke them today. He essentially said that there were enough resources and land space on earth to feed and accommodate everyone in the world 'once we learn to lower our living standards and become fairer in our access to and distribution of total resources.'

I must confess to thinking the old buffer stark raving bonkers at the time. Indeed, I even considered that his views were an insult against the intelligence of any sane person. I asked myself, how he could put such a bizarre proposal forward as to learn to exist on less, when the specific aim of every developing country on earth was trying to drive up living standards for its peoples?

And though it took me another sixty years down the line for his thoughts to penetrate my brain, suddenly, I began to grasp the point that he had started to make during the 1950s. I now know that he was right and that only when we are prepared to eat what we need rather than than what we want, will not a single person anywhere be left starving! Only when we are prepared not to eat two slices of bread where one will suffice will we become the sharing nation of peoples that Muggeridge espoused. The man may have been no more than an old buffer in my youthful eyes then, but I would gladly shake his hand if he was still around and apologise for ever having thought him bonkers!

Laozi (Lao Tzu) was a philosopher and poet of ancient China and he is reported to have once said, "He who knows 'enough is enough' will always have enough." Most of us who inhabit the western hemisphere have enough and don't know it.

As a benevolent nation governed by a sense of fairness for all, we should consider nothing less than free trade to all the countries in the world as being a humane absolute! If we wish to regain the national respect that Great Britain once enjoyed across the globe, besides enabling all poorer and developing countries a greater opportunity to develop their own self respect, we will curtail our foreign aid budget of annual hand outs which promotes increasing dependency and instead, increase all areas of free trade across the world, which promotes fairness, independence and self respect. Struggling nations like struggling people require 'hand ups' to get by in life with dignity and not 'hand outs' by patronising trading blocks and business cartels that impose unfair tariffs on their exports.

The simple economical truth is that through the imposition of trading barriers and high tariffs by rich countries upon poorer countries, the wealthier and more economical powerful countries earn ten times more money to add to their GDP than they 'generously' give with strings attached to poorer countries through foreign aid; and worse still, to the despotic rulers of poorer countries and many dubious and corrupt causes.

To see farmers all over Europe burying tons of perfectly good food weekly because their produce do not correspond to the cosmetic measurements and look required by Brussel bureaucrats, when millions of people in poorer countries scavenge from refuse sites daily to live, is nothing less than scandalous. To witness European farmers pouring millions of gallons of milk down the drains daily and see them stock pile butter mountains left to waste rather than give the produce to the hungry poor is nothing short of obscene. To recall the once proud fishing nation we used to be before we were forced to abandon our right to fish in our own waters and to see our remaining few fishing vessels forced to dump back into the sea, tons of dead fish on every trip, because they happen to be too small or too large, stinks to high heaven! Whether it be curvy carrots or bendy bananas that are proscribed unacceptable for human consumption by our unelected and unaccountable European masters, surely it is now high time that we set the record straight.

The time has come for us as a nation to wake up and smell the coffee, which has more than likely come from one of our former Commonwealth partners. I say that 'enough is enough' and that the time to leave behind our old life and to take control of our new has arrived." William Forde: June 11th, 2016.

June 10th, 2016

11/6/2016

Thought for today:
"When your world still seems to hold too many secrets of betrayal, for a time you feel that you will never trust again: not him, her or even self!

During a lifetime of counselling people with all manner of problems, the most intractable I found was when the person felt betrayed by someone they had deeply loved. Indeed, the more they loved, the greater the degree of betrayal felt. The reason is simply that betrayal is largely an emotional problem and is therefore easier to become more irrational about in one's thinking when struggling ing to resolve.

I have worked with people who cheated and those who were cheated upon; married, single, heterosexual, gay and bisexual; young, middle aged and old! When it comes to feeling betrayed there is no sector of society or type of person who is immune to its harsh emotional consequences.

Loss of a first love in one's teens can seem like your world has caved in on you, no matter how many times anyone tells you that you live a long time and there are plenty more fish in the sea. Adults suggesting it is no more than puppy love merely wants to make you bite back at their unthinking insensitivity. For a teenager to break with their first love is so serious a matter, that few parents will ever grasp the degree of loss felt by the young person. To the teenager, they haven't just lost a boyfriend or girlfriend, but their entire life and peer respect. The fact that such feelings are highly irrational ones which stoke their emotions, make them no less hurtful to experience and difficult to come to terms with.

Loss of love as a young man or woman in your twenties can often be taken more philosophically on the surface by most as we tend to be more resilient to rejection. Like a surfer riding high the crest of the wave, you occasionally get dumped in the sea. Instead of falling to pieces though, you are more likely to put on a new face, get back on your surfing board and push out into the ocean of exploration once more. There are however those of introverted personality who lose all respect for themselves and are more prone to engage in some manner of self destructive behaviour in a whirlpool of emotional disturbance that always ends in unnecessary hurt or self injury. Such young people invariably require some form of psychiatric intervention.

Then there is the 'almost married person', the one who is dumped at the altar or who only finds out after the wedding vows and marriage rings have been exchanged, that the best man had always been best man in the bedroom stakes or that the maid of honour, as far as the bride was concerned, hadn't any!

When married life is founded on a lie, that which starts in deceit always ends in final discovery.There are some people who were never meant to marry as they are unable to demonstrate the trust and forbearance which is required to make such a union work. There are also some who are simply too selfish in disposition ever to conceive the notion of 'give and take' and make it a workable one. Then there is the unfaithful partner who has stopped taking their pants off for their spouse, but is seemingly happy enough to remove them for Uncle Tom Cobbly and All. These are the types of person one can see at every self-service station on the motorway. They queue in line for their food and just after they have moved away from the checkout, they look at what is on another's plate and immediately want a bit of that also!

The hardest love that is ever lost though tends to come the second time around in the relationship/marriage stakes, especially if that relationship doesn't work out and ends in betrayal, especially when it is the women who is cheated on. Women seem to react the worse to betrayal and are most likely to display an anger gone mad. I guess it's because in the emotional department of life's relationships, men initially tend to make 'deposits' that enables them to withdraw for almost any reason while women are usually committed to the long haul and their stake is higher because they make 'investments.'

So many times have I counselled a lovely woman who would make any right-headed partner happy, when the woman asserts that she will never trust another man again! Whenever I've heard those words, I knew that I was in the presence of a woman who still partly held herself responsible for the breakup, even though it was the other person who did her wrong!

I have often experienced colleagues who should have known better than to tell a person feeling betrayed to 'snap out of it', as though to suggest that they had the emotional choice to do so there and then. In my professional experience, years of loving one person cannot simply be forgotten, downgraded in emotional importance or discarded in a matter of mere weeks or months, simply by the adoption of some philosophy espoused by a well-intentioned other who has never loved and lost. Such a loss cannot be so easily consigned to history and coped with without experiencing pain of a kind that no human was ever designed to feel the emptiness of.

All people who feel betrayed, need time and understanding to return to the field of common trust. It is pointless telling them that in time they will be the same again because they won't; they can't! They have felt a breach of trust which crumpled all future hopes and screwed up their life, and like the perfect sheet of paper they once were, they can never quite be the same again, however gently they are handled and whatever problems are successfully ironed out.

People who have been badly betrayed must first learn to extricate themselves and their actions from being seen as the causative factor. They need to be told that betrayal is a common practice that is mostly displayed by those with no principal. Such who betray, are the ones most capable of telling the cruellest lies; untruths told in silence or by acts of omission. As William Blake once said, 'A truth told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.'

If we have been betrayed and are on the verge of entering a new relationship, the greatest thing to come to terms with is a level of distrust we might feel towards our new partner, someone who has never wronged us. Such feelings are natural to have. It is perfectly natural to display a level of distrust in a new relationship as this is no more than a defence mechanism against experiencing another betrayal. One caught out in the pouring rain and getting a sound drenching is more likely to result in them brandishing an umbrella as a part of their future dress.

I have usually found that each type of broken relationship experienced will demand its own kind of resolution. It would be nice if the people of broken relationships could think, 'We’re not friends, we’re not enemies, we’re just strangers with some memories, happy and sad.' However, deep down, I know there are some people in this world who just cannot take hurtful truths and swallow.

Some wise men believe that there are occasions when a white lie can be a great saviour to a relationship worthy of the saving, especially when a little inaccuracy and convenient loss of memory may prevent a truthful explanation that may never be understood. Let's face it folks, we all come to every relationship we have with a past and blotted copy book, and very few couples are naturally programmed to tell all, however much they love each other. If everyone in the family tree is happy, I for one can see no sense in sawing off the branch I'm sat on!

I shall continue to believe that love is magic while realistically remaining aware that for many people, their magic will never be more than an illusion." William Forde: June 10th, 2016.

June 9th, 2016

9/6/2016

Thought for today:
'The Animal Prayer' Copyright William Forde.

"'Dear God, I am older than man and in many ways more humane than he will ever be. Mankind will always keep himself open to the truth of his nature and the baseness of his desires to rule supreme over the animal kingdom. He cannot be reached by rational argument alone; only strong emotions directed towards him during moments of inattention are capable of his mental entrapment. If I have to behave as slave to his master and obedient fulfiller of his capricious demands, then it is a small price to pay for this life on earth until I am once more returned to the place where I belong; my heaven, the animal kingdom of the universe.'

'As a spiritual being formed in the creation of cosmic souls, nature for me has always been a healing place to quietly visit it's green pantry of restorative peace. We all dance better to the tune that we were first taught; so does the nature of the animal world freely move its feet. But man prefers us to dance to his tune, in order to present us to the human world as his trophy of accomplishment. I perform his wish, as it is no great hardship turning a few tricks to meet his perverse pleasure.'

'The universe dances its own dance as it connects all matter into its own spiritual stress ball; dust, rocks, plants, animals, humans, stars and galaxies, all forming a rhythm of life filled with strains of planet mystery and majestic presence.'

'I pray for that day when all animals are returned to our natural place and states of being from which our ancestors came; that place where were always meant to be. I pray that someday our chains and harnesses are removed, our cages flung open, our human-endowed names cast off and our original names returned; and our part wildness restored. I pray that we are once more free to roam at will, the plains, forests and the mountain ranges where we may live again on the other side of life.'"
William Forde: June 9th, 2016.

June 8th, 2016.

8/6/2016

Thought for today:
"There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse; no amount of hard work a faithful horse will perform for you when they know there is work to be done.

As an ardent reader of history as well as having been born in the Chinese Year of The Horse, my affinity with this noble creature shall never wane. I know that there would be no history ever written had horses not helped write it. From the time of the Crusades up to the 'First World War', horses led the battle charge and were among the first to fall. The farming of the world during the Agricultural Revolution, up to and beyond the Industrial Revolution could not have been daily performed without the strength of the horse ploughing the field and later hauling barges along the canal side filled to the brim with grain, coal and other commodities. Even in my days as a boy in the 40s and 50s, horses were the common power for hauling milk carts, coal carts, fruit and veg carts. Indeed, anything that required hauling, a horse did it. Build a racing track and a horse would run it, erect a fence and a horse would jump it; indeed provide a horse with any possible task and it is done without a whimper.

Today, there is no economic sense for using horses to provide the bulk of manual work since the invention of tractors, combined harvesters and motorised high-powered engines. I often imagine a beautiful Shire horse passing a tractor ploughing a field and saying to the machine, 'We can both do that, but you'll never give birth to a colt, mate!"

My advice to any child who would like to persuade their parent to allow them to have a pet kitten and fears they might refuse, is to first ask for a horse. That way, the parent will feel let off!

Access to a horse is the ultimate gateway to freedom. It is a gift to mankind's better self. My love of horses started in my early twenties out in Canada. It was impossible to be anywhere out west without coming into contact with horse riding and I quickly became fascinated by them. I've ridden across plain, on the beach, through woodlands and down country roads and I can honestly tell you that I never came across an experience that could thrill and exhilarate me as much as being on the back of a horse in the midst of a gallop. I find horses as being no less than creatures of nobility without an ounce of conceit in their body. They are a friend without envy and when in full flight, they're the most beautiful of beasts without a shred of vanity.

After an accident as a child left one of my legs a few inches shorter than the other leg, I initially found horse riding a constant challenge in maintaining my balance in the saddle. My stirrups needed adjusting to compensate for this imbalance of body, yet I was always more prone to slip the stirrup during a gallop than another rider. Subsequently, keeping straight in the saddle was often nigh impossible for me to achieve and during my earlier years of learning, falls were often too frequent and resulted in numerous broken bones and bruised backs.

I was never destined to own a horse, yet would have missed out on life greatly had I never ridden one. I have always been smaller in height than the average sized chap, yet always felt as tall as any other when in the saddle. I think that horses are magnificent creatures to elevate ones's perception of character and that people on horses always look better than they really are. Today, horse riding is used to help children with many types of handicap improve their own self image. I have often marvelled how strange a thing it is that so huge, powerful and intelligent an animal as a horse should allow another, and far more feeble animal such as man, to ride upon its back.

Some of the most feisty women I have ever known wore riding breeches. I have always found that a woman who owns a horse knows what she wants, goes where she wants, does what she wants to do and decides when she wants to do it! When woman rides a horse, she reaps the whirlwind of her unbridled passion and desires. Upon the stallion between her knees, she feels empowered as she takes control of her beast. In a corruption and alteration of Lord Byron's words in his works, 'Mazeppa's Ride' : 'With flowing hair and flying mane, she'll not be stretched by bit or rein; nor have feet that iron did ever shod.

Whenever I rode a horse in the past, I knew that I borrowed freedom for an hour or two and whenever I saw one in paintings who'd been worked to the end of endurance ploughing hard rocky ground, I cried to see such fallen grace. Between the ages of twenty one and fifty five, I spent many of my leisure hours horse riding and the remaining time, I just wasted. Then towards my mid 50s, my arthritis became so bad in my legs that each time I tried to ride above a canter, I was in dire risk of falling off my mount. I finally had to accept that my horse riding days were over after falling off a galloping mount in County Galway, nearly breaking my back and confined to bed for three weeks.

During my childhood days when I was unable to walk for three years after a bad traffic accident, I would watch the horses prance around a nearby field with a freedom and movement of majesty I feared I'd never have, and today, I watch this noblest of creatures move in an unfettered freedom of action that I know I will never again possess.

I have always believed horses to be clever creatures and once heard about the cleverest horse of all called Alfie. One day Alfie fell down an open well which the farmer had been in the process of retopping with better stone. The well had long since dried up and had over the years been part filled with loose soil. Alfie fell about forty feet and miraculously, the soft landing on soil saved his life. Unable to get his horse back up out of the well, and believing it to be half dead, the owner decided to take the route of least hassle and started to bury the horse alive by getting six of his farm hands to shovel dirt down on top of the poor creature and thereby snuff out all remaining breathing of the creature. Every shovel of dirt that hit its back almost suffocated the horse, but Alfie thought positively, just shrugged it off and took a step up. As the farm hands could still hear Alfie snort, they quickened their pace and doubled their efforts to put him out of his misery, and shovelled more dirt down on top of the trapped creature. But with each spade of dirt cast down on him, Alfie stayed positive in outlook and continued to shake it off and take another step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as Alfie stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off to a nearby field.

Now, as it was my late mother who told me that tale as a child about a Portlaw pony, I never more than half believed it, but in my heart of hearts, I always wanted to!

I am off into hospital now for another blood transfusion. The doctor saw me yesterday afternoon and is referring me to a chest specialist with a view of finding out if I have developed emphysema, as that could account for my repeated chest complaints. Having smoked for fifty years before having incurred two heart attacks and giving up thirteen years ago, it could be a possible indicator. Bye until tomorrow." William Forde: June 8th, 2016.