Things are not quite how you might remember them in the 100 Acre Wood for Christopher Robin, Pooh Bear and their friends…

***** ***** *****

Jane Jago

Namaste you wonderful, desirable and aspiring individual! This bijou blog is here to help you achieve your best ever ‘you’ in this new year. Here, I offer my help and assistance in reshaping your shape and doctoring your decor internally and externally, to bring your lifestyle into line with your aspirations.

Rites of Passage

It has been shown that celebrating rites of passage, such as entering teenage, leaving school, starting to drive and so on has a profound and healthy effect on the psyche. It enables the individual to recognise themselves and their place in their community and facilitates the community in recognising the individual and their transition from one stage of life to another.
Rites of passage have an outward, external, community oriented side and an inner, transformative and profoundly personal side.
They are good for you and good for those around you.
Having established that, it is time to consider how you can add to the rites of passage at present practiced and so reap an even greater harvest of benefit from them. What other profound and meaningful transitions occur in your life that you can use as pivot points in your personal and social growth?
In many ways the best approach is to make your own list. After all you know yourself what these meaningful moments might be better than anyone else. But here are a couple of suggestions for rites of passage we could all adopt more widely in the modern world.

Ordering a first take-out
This is a truly life-altering moment for any growing individual. It carries with it the awareness that from now on one is no longer tied to the apron strings of home provision. One is now free to sally forth and hungryly devour the entire world of exotic food. I will assume if you are reading this you have already crossed this threshold, but here is advice for any you might be inducting into this stage of their life.
How to mark the moment: Make sure the moment is perfect by ensuring the candidate approaches it with virginal purity. Do not allow them to so much as peek at a site prior to the event Invite at least half a dozen of your young postulants chosen companions to attend the event. They should all sit in a circle and chant their chosen order whilst the celebratee sits in the middle with their phone app and has to get every order right before they can order their own.
It will be one of the most memorable events of their life!

The first major relationship argument
We are all left battered – yet bettered, by this transformational moment. When we realise the most adored life-partner with whom we are soul to soul, has in fact some major imperfection that has led to a major crisis between you.
How to mark the moment: Embrace that it has happened and once the dust has settled summon your closest and most individually partisan friends and family.
Whilst the principles are withdrawn, individually and apart, to better focus on regenerating the acrimony that spurred the real event, be sure that everyone has a good glass of their preferred alcoholic beverage inside them and one in hand. Then when all is ready, have the assembled companions draw to either side of the room, to stand behind the individual to whom they are most closely aligned.
Then the couple should act out the events again, being sure to not neglect even the most hurtful and hateful things said so they can be purified and transmuted by the rite of passage into a new energy each will take forward with them in life. The gathered supporters can cheer and boo to make the reenactment even more potent.
At the end there will be an utter catharsis and a truly life changing resolution!

You begin, I am sure, to see the many promising and poignant possible prospects for such rites of passage and can create your own to celebrate graduating my ‘New Year New You’ course today!

Namaste!
Lucida the Liminal Lifestyle Coach

Telling an entire story in just one hundred words…

It was a life between two lives.
Marjeka walked, carrying her infant as she had every day since he was born three weeks before.
The border to the next kingdom lay many days walk ahead. The border to her homeland, now a place of violence and terror, lay many days walk behind.
She walked the sand that lay between the mountains and the sea, her footprints a temporary mark of her passing.
One day, she knew, she would reach her destination, but until then she was trapped between the past she wanted to forget and the future she dreamed about.

E.M. Swift-Hook

A selection of rhymes by Jane Jago, made age appropriate for those for whom their second childhood is just around the corner…

Twinkle, Twinkle on the Telly

Twinkle, twinkle on the telly
Someone who lost all their belly
A girl whose life’s no longer sweet
Even if she can now see her feet
Twinkle, twinkle drown your sorrow
You’ll be fat again tomorrow.

You can find this, and other whimsical takes of life in On The Throne? a little book of contemplation from Jane Jago.

What is courage without fear
What joy does not know pain
Who never falls will never hear
A voice cry ‘rise again’
Who never tried will never feel
The cleansing of the soul
When bleeding wounds inside us heal
Undaunted now and whole

©️jj 2024

Sometimes we walk the edges of realty…

Jess sensed this was indeed a ritual, though not one of any religious kind. Things were passing hand to hand, bottles of water and white cider. It was a scene she had witnessed a few too many times in her career. In her previous career, she mentally corrected and felt the small inner lurch of loss that always left in its wake.
Then someone moved right behind her and a pair of hands gripped her shoulders.
“Hey bros, look what I just found.”
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. 
No. It doesn’t. 
It really doesn’t.
Not when it breaks you inside.
That was all Jess could think, standing, paralised by her past. There was not even a conscious sense of fear, though she could feel her heart rate slam up and the floor drop away. It was as if her conscious mind had shot out of her body and hung suspended, mid-air, above it. There was nothing she could do. It was going to happen again.
The yelp seemed to come from a great distance away not from right behind, but the moment the grip was gone from her shoulders, it was as if she were restored. Restored to a body in panic. She would have run blindly, but there was a gentle touch on her arm and a girl’s face, looking at her. They ran together.
Jess had no idea where they were going, past half demolished buildings, and broken metal structures that reared like scaffold dinosaurs, against the moon-lit sky. The ‘bros’ were either more worried about what had happened to their companion or already too out of it to be able to give chase, because after a few shouts and some sounds of running feet, the night closed behind the two of them into quiet.
They went past the barrier with an old height restriction sign on it and cartoon-like pictures of stick men standing up in cars on a roller coaster, or leaning out, circled in red with a bar through the image.Then they were clambering over a heap of twisted metal beyond. It was not a hard scramble the way her guide was going, or a long one, which was as well because the shooting pains had started up in her legs as they reached what looked a bit like a metal box, buried in the middle of the debris. 
The girl touched her hand again, then opened the door making some kind of sounds, as if reassuring an animal. Then a small glow of light came from inside and Jess went in. 
She was not really sure what she had expected. But not this. It was almost obsessively neat and very clean. For a moment, Jess was thinking of paisley furniture and over-polished wooden floors, then chastised herself for assuming that the homeless could not also be house proud. For that was clearly what this was, a homeless person’s private shelter. There was a counter top along two sides and a closed fire on the third wall opposite a comfortable bed. It was more of a sleeping platform really, covered in an odd variety of multicoloured fleece picnic blankets. Two very large cats were curled in the middle and watched her with wary feline eyes.
Jess took it in then looked at her rescuer. The girl looked to be in her mid-teens, a runaway maybe. That realisation pushed Jess out of her bubble of self-concern and she mustered a smile.
“Thank you, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there,” she said. The girl said nothing, just glancing briefly to the cats and then back to Jess. So she tried again:
“My name is Jessica Monday, what’s yours?”
The girl kept looking at her, but the silence went on.

Part 5 of Maybe by Jane Jago and E.M. Swift-Hook will be here next week…

Things that make us go poop…

Granny and the ‘ladies’ darts team of The Dog and Trumpet alphabetically collate their collective contempt for the inhabitants of the twenty-first century.

L is for Lingerie or ‘smalls’ as my sainted grandmother used to call them.

This is primarily aimed at the distaff side of the population – although it wouldn’t hurt the male of the species to read it, or a similar essay, before charging off to Victoria’s Secrets with lust in their eyes and no idea of size.

But I digress. 

Underwear. 

What a daily conundrum it is. 

Let’s see if we can unwind it a bit.

The brassiere. Nature’s way of reminding us that being a woman sucks. If you are possessed of a small, pert bosom ignore the next couple of paragraphs they probably don’t apply. But for the rest of us there is always the brassiere dilemma. 

To wear. Or not.

Underwires. Or not.

Padding. Or not.

Front fastening. Rear fastening. Climb in.

There are too many choices and most are lousy.  So let’s dig down to the best advice there is – that of an old woman who has tried the effing lot.

If you can get away with it, don’t wear a bra – they are the inventions of Satan.

If you have to immolate yourself because you need to for comfort and to avoid having pendulums swinging over your stomach, get measured properly and buy the best you can afford. With a bit of luck you will avoid shoulder ruts and undertit pinches. Good luck.

Having disposed of the bustenhalter let us take a passing slap at leg coverings. 

*sighs and lights ciggy*

In an ideal world we would all wear trousers. All of the time. Long trousers in winter and maybe a little shorter in warm weather. But the world is not ideal, and women wear skirts. Why is beyond my comprehension. However, it is a fact and it needs to be dealt with. 

In the summer you may be tempted to go for the bare-legged look. This is fine and very comfortable. But. If your legs are neon white and look like some child has been drawing on them with a blue biro it may be kinder to the rest of the world to slap on a bit of fake tan before venturing out. Or not if you really don’t care.

For more formal occasions there are the horrors of delicate fine tights, or, even worse, stockings and suspenders. Don’t do either. The tights will either crawl up your bum crack or droop into concertina like folds. And it goes without saying that one leg will be twisted – giving your walk something of the air of Quasimodo on a night out. Does that leave us with the huge physical and mental discomfort of stockings and suspenders* as our only option, do I hear you cry?  No. If you really have to look like a member of the royal family on a walkabout get a pair of hold-ups with a decently wide elastic top and hope for the best.

*Hint. If you must wear these godawful things the suspenders straps go inside your knickers (not how it is depicted on the front of your/his favourite soft porno). Get this wrong and you will be unable to drop your pants to piss.

An aside here is those items of underwear that claim to slim you that’s anything from corsets to control knickers. They. Do. Not. Work. All they do is shift unwanted flesh from A to B or C. That roll around your waist will just be pushed up above your foundation garment in such a way as to make you appear to have grown an extra pair of breasts. If you care about being fat lose weight.

And finally. Knickers, or panties as our colonial cousins call them. You’re on your own here. I have only one piece of wisdom to impart. Thongs…

Just don’t. 

Life is tough enough without a piece of cheese wire between the cheeks of your ass.

Things are not quite how you might remember them in the 100 Acre Wood for Christopher Robin, Pooh Bear and their friends…

***** ***** *****

Jane Jago

Namaste you wonderful, desirable and aspiring individual! This bijou blog is here to help you achieve your best ever ‘you’ in this new year. Here, I offer my help and assistance in reshaping your shape and doctoring your decor internally and externally, to bring your lifestyle into line with your aspirations.

Gestures

One of the very first things we all notice about an individual we meet will be their gestures. Do they forever make air quotes? Are they bracing their forehead with the back of their hand in times of stress?
We are what we do and gestures such as these both express our inner essence and shape it through repetition. What is within is always reflected without and what is without will be internalised in turn. So it goes without saying that the very best way to shape your inner essence can be through defining yourself externally by your gestures.
Firstly you need to choose what will be your hallmark ‘defining’ gesture. The one that all those who know you or come into contact with you in life will take away with them as being the essential expression of who you are. So you need to choose wisely and think carefully on both what this gesture is seeking to portray about you and reinforce within you.
Some suggestions:

Pointing with the little finger
Tucking your other fingers behind your thumb, use only the smallest digit on your hand to point and indicate with, thus demonstrating both your humility and your confidence. By using it you are saying to the world that you have no need to use the aggressive index finger to point with, you can do just as well with a little finger and that small is beautiful too.

Spread finger hand shake
Instead of presenting a sleek, attack line hand to be shaken, thumb up like the dorsal fin of a shark, offer your hand with the fingers wide apart to show you are not a greedy or grasping individual, but an open and easygoing person, with nothing to hide.

Scratching the third eye
When you are in need of inspiration, instead of scratching your head at random, always aim for the spot above the nose and between the eyes. This shows you are a profound and mystically inclined individual who all should respect. Rubbing it when perplexed is a variant on this theme.

You can come up with your own unique and inspiring gestures to ensure you leave an indelible impression on all those you encounter.

Namaste!
Lucida the Loquacious Lifestyle Coach

Telling an entire story in just one hundred words…

The door opened.
The line of light widened and Jacob’s heart beat a tattoo of terror.
It was too late to be dad, he had blundered up the stairs two hours ago shouting, yelling, drunk as always. Jacob had kept hidden under the duvet, cuddling Mr Tomkins.
No. Dad would be fast asleep and snoring now.
But the door still opened and a shadow fell over Jacob’s bed.
Then he saw who it was and the terror fled.
A few minutes later he was bundled up on the back seat of mum’s car, still clutching Mr. Tomkins.
They were escaping.

E.M. Swift-Hook