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Posts Tagged ‘justice’

Waiting in the wings

Just around the corner

At the edge of sleep

Or as you start to wake

Are the memories

Of the past and

The hopes for the future.

image from fieldguidetoconservatism.blogspot.com

There is no magic carpet ride in the physical world we live in; that’s where our hopes and dreams are. If we are creative enough and believe in ourselves, we can create our magic carpet ride, fill our lives with magic and whatever it is that makes our hearts and minds sing. We can, if we but believe, bring our spirit alive with all manner of wondrous things. If we but believe – and are offered the support to allow our imaginations to blossom.

I am content that the extremes of human behaviour can still lift me to the heavens or crush me with sadness. I am grateful that I am able to feel those emotions to the fullest of my abilities. You might wonder why I would choose to be so saddened. It means, to me at least, that I am not inured to the grossness which people can descend to. I can still hold tight to the hope that if I give of my gratitude, love and well-being to the world, and enough others do the same, that we can make a difference to this wonderful world of ours.

I’d like to show you a small example, unhappy and unpleasant, but then, for some, that’s life.

Many years ago, when I was living in a country town, there was a horrendous event. A young child had been systematically abused by her mother’s defacto for years. Despite trying to tell her mother, she was not believed. Apparently her mother couldn’t believe her “wonderful boyfriend would want to be sexual with her teenage daughter when he had her to satisfy him.” The situation was even more horrendous than this and lasted for four years before she told a friend.

Everything this child told the police was true and the perpetrator confessed to the police. Her mother, in anger and frustration, blamed the child and threw her out of her home. The rest of her extended family refused to help her either and she was taken into Child Services until the trial.

This presented a dilemma. The police needed her to be at the trial and yet she had nowhere to stay where she felt supported in what was a horrendous time. This was how she came into my life. She stayed with us for the week whilst the trial was held.  She was visibly timid and trembled constantly. Despite the fact that my ex was the arresting officer she was obviously ill at ease with a man close to her.  After we went to bed for the night I heard her crying in her room.

My children were still babies and I couldn’t ignore the pain in this child’s cries. We spent the entire night talking, or rather she talked and I listened in mounting horror. She had been unable to talk to anyone about what had occurred after giving her statement to the police. Her trauma was so great she had been unable to open up to anyone. Somehow she felt safe enough to talk to me.

It was a long week, with little sleep for either of us. She desperately needed to talk to someone after each days’ events and I wouldn’t, couldn’t turn her away. It so so apparent she had not had the chance to get the horrors of the past out into the daylight so she could begin to heal. On the last day she flew through the front door and into my arms and sobbed for an hour. The Judge had sentenced the man to five years jail after he had been found guilty on all counts.

image from de.123rf.com

On the steps of the court her mother asked her to come back home, to look after the younger children so that she could work, but only until the day her boyfriend was released from jail. Then she would have to leave! After all that had happened, this broke her heart all over again. She wanted someone to tell her what to do, something I couldn’t do, even if, in my heart, I would have liked to.

We spent another long night talking, exploring the avenues she had open to her. She was, fortunately, now of an age where she could remain in town to complete her schooling. From there she was able, for the first time, to look at what she might like to do. I suggested she let herself dream of the possible things she might like to do and build her plans from there. She realised she had a future she could dream of and plan for.

The next morning she left and for the first time there appeared to be a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. The haunted look which shadowed her eyes was, not gone, but much lighter than I had ever seen. She was nervous but she was looking forward to tomorrow. She told me it was the first time she had been able to sleep without listening for the door opening. With tears in my eyes I hugged her and then waved her off.

Just over two years later I answered my phone and heard a bright cheerful voice on the other end.  Two years had made a tremendous difference to the frightened girl I met. She was going away to University, far away from her “home”. She told me of her dreams for the future, some already beginning and some she was still working on. She still had bad days, but the good ones outweighed the bad and she told me she dreamed of the wonderful things she was going to do. Somehow I know that her dreams came true.

I believe that when this child and I met, I was the one Blessed to be the hand holding a candle, to banish the darkness for her.  I believe that I was allowed to light a window into a future she could embroider to make her happy. I believe that magic happened, and that I was honoured to be able to witness that happening.

Magic is all around us, in the golden morning sunrise, the silvered evening moon glow, in the twinkling sounds of the fairies dance and in the bright imaginings by day or in the cocoon of sweet dreams.

I wish everyone the joy of magic and dreams fulfilled, laughter and far horizons. As it should be.

Blessings  Susan xx

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
― Roald Dahl

© Susan Jamieson

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This is another true story, all the more peculiar because of the way it came about,of how I became involved in an incident with the police in busy rush hour in Roma Street, Brisbane. At the time I was working for the South East Queensland Electricity Board. At the end of each day there was a mass exodus for the train station on Roma Street. It was a case of first in, you might get a seat. If you were tardy then you most likely had to stand all the way home. Gentlemanly behavior went out the door with a suit and a newspaper!

I’d had a great lunch break, buying up big in the sales of large glass jars of moisturisers and cleansers and all those lovely things women are fond of (and the men too if they admit to it).  There I was, the five o’clock rush already in full swing.  My heavy shoulder bag full of carefully wrapped glass jars.

I was hurrying along in my beautiful high heels and short skirt – nice to be in the height of fashion, when I suddenly heard a strident cry – “STOP, POLICE!”  This, the call to action for any police officer, anywhere, the Queensland Police Force was no exception.

That was enough to make me stop. A cry to arms no less! I could see nothing ahead of me except a sea of bodies, mainly male in their nice shiny suits, everyone hurrying for the train. I knew I wasn’t hearing things but I couldn’t see anything amiss.  Suddenly the crowd ahead of me started to melt to each side like swiftly flowing syrup. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything like it before or since.

Ahead of me I could just make out the figure of a young man running hell for leather towards me, or at least in my direction. No-one wanted to know he was there. They didn’t want to acknowledge the three plain clothes police charging behind him. (To be fair I had to presume they were police after I’d heard the call).

Back in the day, dressed in the ‘height of fashion!

Thoughts tumbled through my head, ranging from outrage that all these burly suited loafers were going to pretend they couldn’t see what was happening and let this ‘perpetrator’ escape. (I suppose I could call him an unsub these days). Closely on the heels of this outrage was the thought that I had to do something to stop him getting away, followed by – OMG – my jars of cream! Drop the bag?  No way, and smash all those jars. No-one would help me clean it up and then I’d have to explain what I’d been “up to”. (That was my husband’s favourite query when something odd happened).

OK, the only thing was to try to stop him. He was getting closer. Even though time appeared to have slowed down there was little time to make a decision and I was determined he wasn’t going to get away. But how to stop any attempt from breaking my precious packages?

Right, the time had come to stop pretending I was a superhero. I decided in some deep recesses of my brain, that if I dropped my shoulder, just so, as he tried to rush past I could knock him off stride, perhaps slow him enough to let the police chasing him to catch up.

Not really thinking any further than that, as he came up to me I took two quick steps to the side and dropped my right shoulder, being careful not to get my expensive jars broken!

It worked!! He ran into my shoulder, lost momentum, staggered off the footpath and the pursuing police caught him.  Truthfully, it hurt a lot more than I expected but I was quite pleased with myself for stopping him when all those burly guys pretended they couldn’t see what was happening.

One of the detectives came over to get my name and make sure I was alright and then we parted ways as the handcuffs were slapped on the erstwhile runner. Yes, I made my train, late and stood up all the way home. There’s no justice for heroines.

An aside from this tale is how I became notorious for it. I was overheard telling my friend what had happened on the way home from work. She thought it would be a great story for the Public Relations team, of whom she was a member, as they were compiling the quarterly newsletter. No matter how hard I tried to play it down it was written up as “Receptionist Sue nabs Police runaway”. Ugh! I suppose it was payback for the leotard episode.

I didn’t hear what happened after that, the excitement was enough. It’s strange how you forget what the adrenaline rush does to you. It was also a reminder that some things never change – instincts and training stay with you a long time if they meant anything to you in the first place.

It was obvious I still had a lot of the instinct left as I found myself in another situation later on, but at least there were no snakes!

Cheers

Susan x

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couple in love

Couple in love, courtesy of istockphoto.com

“Love knows no boundaries” – Marius Gherghinescu.

For all the romantics who abound in this world, the above quote is most probably a truth they live by, however, for the many sceptics who feel all that ‘mushy’ love stuff is ridiculous, I’m sure they would prefer,

“There are none so blind as those who will not see”, a proverb traced back in English to John Heywood, 1546.

In reality both statements are true. Life simply cannot run as smoothly as a mill-pond. There will always be those twists and turns, which whilst unexpected, should really be expected because life never runs a smooth course. At least I haven’t heard of one going so smoothly. If life were so smooth, no bumps along the way, then it would be truly boring. Yet conversely, all those twists and turns, those bumps, the cavernous drops in the road ahead, all these can make life a struggle from beginning to end. It makes one wonder why anyone would bother with such a mammoth struggle. The reason why is simple, “Love Conquers All” which derives from the Latin phrase from Eclogue X by Virgil, “omnia vincit amor“. With love in your life, a belief in unconditional love from either another person or the Universe, all these hiccoughs along the way temper the character and make everyone appreciate the rich tapestry of life. In fact it irons out the twists, turns and bumps.

So where do the ‘skeletons in the closet” come in? That’s life, in all it’s rich and colourful complexity. The star struck couple have formed a deep friendship, trusting in each other and sharing the life lessons from their pasts which have made them into the people they are today. All is well, and time flows on smoothly. If there are any odd flashes of intuition which tells her that something isn’t quite what it seems to be, then she ignores it because she really wants to believe in him and doesn’t want to accept that there may be something, or several things which have been ‘glossed over”. In due time she finds out the wrong way ( is there ever a right way?) that the ‘glossing over’ is not a mild understatement but a complete obfuscation of fact! She has many faults of her own, not the least of which is an uncompromising view of the truth. In a world where white is never white and black is never black she holds the view that a lie is something which is something either said or misled or if omitted altogether is still a lie, a lie of omission. None of which fall under any category she allows as being acceptable. They jury is in and the gavel has fallen.
gavel

Gavel, image courtesy of saramarberry.blogspot.com

Through the unkind generosity of a computer hacker, who decides to disseminate the information gleaned back to her, she learns of every twist and turn her new-found love has travelled along life’s highway. The problem with this, he hasn’t told her about it, he has ‘fudged’ about other parts of it and completely obfuscated about a great deal of the rest. Does it really matter now? That’s a question a better person than she would need to answer. She only knows that the truth she holds so dear, especially after the misfortunes in her past love life, have left her without a clear barometer with which to calculate this information.

At every twist and turn this information rears its ugly head and plays havoc with her mind. She cannot, irrespective of how hard she tries, block it from her memory or ignore it. The questions multiply at an alarming rate and it threatens the peace and longevity of this wonderful relationship. There are many who would say it couldn’t be such a wonderful relationship if there are so many problems and lies at such an early stage, yet these are two people who know they have travelled life’s road many times before and are meant to be together again. This is a battle to put the past in perspective and relish the fortunes of the future, and so the truth will come out!

A business arrangement, from its outset blatantly abused by the other parties, has drained the reserves and strength of her partner. He had nowhere to turn and no one else to turn to. He was so close to finalising the business venture yet the capital fell short. Along came a funnel-web spider, disguised as a bleached blonde, intent on capturing its prey by whatever means at its disposal. Now, I cannot comment for anyone else but I hate spiders, and women who deliberately set out to ensnare men are lower than a spider. That’s simply my opinion. Here is an honest man, trying to do the right thing, being taken advantage of because of his good nature and is now falling into the clutches of a nasty death-dealing arachnid! Oh you can tell I don’t like spiders!
funnel web spider female

Female funnel-web spider ready to spring, image courtesy of smh.com.au

A business agreement is entered into and in time the business fails utterly. The man is devastated, everything he worked for is gone, without a penny to his name he has nowhere to live. Destitute. Does she act honourably? Does she understand the depth of despair this man is now drowning in? Not one whit! She blatantly propositions him for sexual favours. “Sleep” with her and work her farm and the loan is forgiven. Forgiven! Forgiven!! I must be dreaming. This is a business venture, a loan for a business venture and the business has collapsed. The business and loan have vanished into the ether and cannot be recovered. She is going to devour this man whichever way she can. Like any good flesh eating monster she simply revs up the attack.

What happens next? Being rebuffed does no good at all. She persists, like a spider who has its prey wrapped securely in a cocoon for digesting later, she sinks her fangs ever deeper and watches the death throes as he tries to survive.
funnel web abd prey

image courtesy of superstock.com
spider bite
funnel web bite – day 10. image courtesy of declubz.com

So what happens when his lady arrives on the scene and she, of the funnel-web analogy, finally cannot deny that her fangs have lost their deadly grip and he isn’t going to be her dinner? Then she becomes a death dealing viper, a fork tongued cold-blooded reptile who will destroy him in any way possible. She lies, she cheats, she tries to sue in court. She deliberately swears on oath that he lives in a place vacated years earlier. She knows where he is because she arrives uninvited one night and meets his new lady there. Yet lying to the court if the other party cannot get there to defend himself is easy. She glories in her perjury!

Synchronicity – what a wonderful thing. Through unbelievable twists and turns the information about the court case arrives at it’s intended destination, but not through any action of hers. With the smallest of margins ever he is able to get a defence lodged and fight the spurious claims she has perjured herself making. The truth finally sees the light of day. There is no validity of a court case where the truth is not in evidence. There is no possibility of a financial outcome. Even the solicitors are finally aware they have been duped by the venom of this creature. There has been a vexatious waste of the courts time as well as the solicitors, who cannot be recompensed for their time and efforts. Perhaps justice is served after all as the court throws the case out and the “plaintiff’ has to pay costs for bringing a claim without valid grounds. Justice is blind, I agree, but just occasionally Justice prevails, as it has this time.

blind justice Blind justice, image courtesy of boxing.com.

winning judgementWinning judgement; courtesy of ehow.com

Sometimes you simply have to believe and have faith. Love does conquer all!

VIVE L’AMOUR

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