I don't want your money honey...

I now have an earworm... A song I used to listen to many (many) years ago... On the eve of my 40th birthday, I came to the realization that as from tomorrow, I will officially be "over the hill"... I didn't mind being made aware of that- it was more the one word -MATURE, that scared me. Me, mature? Don't make me laugh! Although I'm rather looking forward to entering my "naughty forties".
Age is just a number, but its amazing how that word "mature" is still haunting my thoughts... I'm still young at heart - a hippy - free spirit. I love playing and re-living the years gone by. I'm a responsible adult, mother and always ensure I'm doing any job I'm given my full attention (even if I'm day-dreaming through many parts of it).



The song entered my head after friends had mentioned they would not be able to join me in my birthday celebrations (and mentioned by somebody else - they don't have money for a gift). My specific words we're - join me in celebrating, not come to my party with a gift. The gift is having people around me. I've never been a materialistic person (it generally slips my mind that people "expect" a gift at a party and I often arrive empty handed). If I had the money, I would spoil my guests and send them home with gifts!! It made me think, when did we become so focused on this way of thinking that they feel they need to arrive with a gift. Often when people do ask what I have (and believe me, I don't have a lot, but I'm happy with what I have) I often tell them to donate to a charity (and if that means R2 in a charity tin, my wish has been fulfilled).

I'm not saying I don't like gifts (although I have been told I seem to act awkwardly when receiving a gift), but bear in mind, if it comes from your heart, I'll love it.

Comments

Post a Comment

I'd love to hear from you, please leave a comment...

Popular posts from this blog

The Perfectionist Inside

Image
I am a perfectionist.  Usually to my own detriment. You wouldn't think it by looking at me though. It's inherited.  From my dad.  The difference is, my dad is a perfectionist inside and out.  He always looks good.  I, on the other hand, often look like I've just been dragged through the bush backwards. I'm always clean and my hair and make-up done, but the clothes that make their way onto my body are usually the first ones I grab out my cupboard.  Creased or not... My dad would take out the iron and iron his shirt if there's a crease. My dad would not settle for a dirty house, neither would my mom for that matter- they can have all 7 grand children around and the house will still look great when they leave. My kitchen floor often looks like the dog's breakfast.  It probably is the dog's breakfast... and the kids'... and lunch and supper. For the past few days.  I often only notice once I've walked barefoot in the kitchen and gathered a few it
Read more

The raw reality of Mental Illness

Image
If you haven't heard before, I'll remind you. I suffer from depression and anxiety (and more specifically - social anxiety). Today is one of those days where it's taken all my energy just to keep breathing. I smile and carry on with my day like nothing is wrong, but I'm struggling to breath, walk and talk. My heart is beating through my chest and I'm paranoid. I'm convinced I'm being watched. Most days I can keep it together, and most of the time, I really am together. But things like this pounce at you from nowhere. And when you've gone months without an episode, it takes you by surprise.
Read more

The bigger the better…?

Image
 (Da daa da daaaaa …. A hula hoop post) You’ve heard all the talk… hula hooping is a great exercise and gets your tummy in good shape (and all the other good stuff that goes with it)… You’ve tried hooping with your child’s hula hoop, and failed… miserably…  Then you went off to a department store and found a hoop in the gym section, and thought you’d give that a try too.  Maybe it worked, perhaps it didn’t.  You try and try and try… And the hoop keeps falling.  You want to give up.  I nearly did, but I persisted. Next step.  You google hula hoops and discover that hula hoops aren’t all the same.  You actually get such a thing as an ADULT HULA HOOP.  So what’s the difference?  A small kiddies hoop is made of very light plastic and is teeny tiny.  I know many kids who can’t keep a kiddies hoop up!! 
Read more