Diversionary Thinking

I struggled to move. Thinking was all I could do!

Where is inspiration?

Where is energy?

Where is diversion but not avoidance? 

Where is action but not reaction?

Where is forwards and onwards?

Where is creativity?

Where is motivation?

When the mind whispers insistently, subtly, softly stay in bed and not move

When the back screams sharp acute pain to keep still

When mental argument ensues because

the body has to be warm

the body has to put logs on a fire

the body has to put hot water in a rubber bottle

the body has automatic functions relating to food and drink

It cannot just lie prone when it is tired or lazy or in pain.

The mind and the body have a hidden agenda; they meet.

The mind and body argue but my ear cannot hear their silent dispute
The mind takes control and makes the body pause to rest

The mind takes control and makes the body move to act
The body takes the mind into control and keeps it working

For life never stops, until it stops, and does not breathe.

The mind and the body are the inspiration for the automatic next step 

of whatever it is that needs to be done for as long as life survives

They do what needs to be done.

They take hold and control decisions if one waits sufficiently long.

They move limbs forwards and onward.s

They are energy making energy.

They create order out of chaos.

They motivate and react to make action.

They address what is avoided

The diversions arrive.

There has to be mobility of mind and body.

All this happens if one lies still, quietly alone for sufficiently long without interruption.

The mind decides when it is time to sleep or to wake, to read or to ponder, to drink or to eat, to listen to music, to create, to shower or to bathe, to go out, stay indoors, to contact another or keep alone, to laugh or to cry, to sing or  reflect, to pull up the weeds, to plant a bulb, to dig the earth, to contact the soil for which we owe a life.

The mind controls the body in everything we do, think or say.

It is automatic.

It is such beauty.

It happens without any effort on our part.
See. 
Wait.

Down to the floor again and again,
whether I am in the shower or wherever I am
with unwanted thoughts, sometimes no thought at all.

Then without anyone's help I notice I pick myself up, bounce back, get moving.

The screaming back and the screaming mind quieten and eventually remain silent for a while.

They have not won.

The thoughtful negative mind eventually finds strength to become positive.
A smile creeps in.
Always it is so.
HOPE on the horizon begins to shine like the sun.
The mind allows contentment to return

The mind allows body movement to lift up from the horizontal

to stand vertical to face the world
to win against adversity
until winning cannot lose and loss succumbs to another world.

How fascinating to see and to wait.

How wonderful to know that pain is inconstant and moves away.
How grateful to know that NOW is not the time to not move and NOW is not the time to not think.
Life thankfully continues. 

Cranes - a sound of springtime to behold

I had just returned to VdV with my friend's washing ... he still has no water in the kitchen on account of the freeze and has to do some plumbing... and honk honk, honk honk, ... 20 cranes in the sky... some stragglers and then one all alone neck outstretched "Wait for me " he calls.  The flock returned for him and then veered sharply to collect others and then there were 27........... WOW and WOW and WOW. Spring has arrived!!!!!!!!! Oh JOY!

I should not be still awake as it is now morning of the next day!

The woodburner is dismantled

Hohoho... the chimney does not bring Santa nor chaleur (warmth)
In fact, I was not prepared for reparation work today. I understood that the proprietor was coming to view the problem and discuss the proposed "modification" BUT... I had to say "STOP, STOP, STOP" (that is FRENCH for arrête! ) and tell the young man to slow down!!!!! He had already trodden on the hearth into the gunge and was about to spread this on my oak floor!!!!!!! Oh MY!
So I went in haste for sheets of cardboard, and my friend went in haste for sheets of chipboard and I returned to find that they were uninstalling the woodburner. 
First, I rushed to clean the gungy, glass hearth with warm water and a cloth.  We had to tell them repeatedly to slide cardboard under the legs of the woodburner as they edged it forwards off the 8mm thick glass onto a sheet of chipboard.  I emphasised how much it cost, as they later moved it out of position; it is very heavy.  By then they had already removed the rigid steel tubes after I had pointed to the dribbles on the exterior and how this gunge went into the next tube.
So it seems that one of the problems since May has been that:
They have flouted the clear instructions in the woodburner manufacturer's installation instruction manual. I have a copy. The installers had not installed the correct "raccord" which transforms the female into a male which is then inserted into the female part of the next tube.    
All male ends should point down into the female ends.  The sexual comparisons have all been aired and shared!!!!!!
I had to stop them rushing about and explain what I knew about the evaporation and condensation of gases and liquids from burning any fuel carburant and in this case burning 3 yr old seasoned oak logs.  I spoke about the height of the chimney and that the flue liner is not protected against keeping the flue hot as it gets further from the source of the heat and that perhaps it is cooling too quickly because there is no vermiculite surrounding it.  He said it wasn't essential but if it's what I want, it could be arranged.  He said that of course it is my responsibility to pay for that whether he did it in the first place or if I have it done now.  I have always known and accepted that.  He agreed that he was at fault and many times apologised.  I too am sorry .. for him, but more for me and my friend for all the stress that this palava has caused and most importantly for the time and energy that the damage has absorbed and prevented us from getting on with bathroom and other work.  As the young man said they installed many woodburners and told us this was the only problem. Frankly, I do not believe that mine has been the only problem.  That would be too unique!  I've counted 7 incidents / problems of their making, during the course of having employed this company.

It looks as if the water and creosote stain will be removed from the oak relatively easily but it has highlighted the need to oil the wood every year.   None of the installation information discussed after-care. Once the solid oak flooring was laid it should have been further oiled with the correct product and polished!  If you need a solid oak floor speak to me!  You will need more than the engineered oak lengths.  The beauty of the finished oak floor relies on preparation of the surfaces beneath it and the way in which the oak planks are fitted together, be they nailed or screwed.
I am trying to discover which oil was initially used and have discovered a company that sells a maintenance kit of soaps and oils specially for oak flooring.
Eventually, after using Acetone, it was the woodburner glass cleaner which moved the sticky tar from the skirting board which will then need to be sanded in situ and repainted.
It also moved the gunge off the plasterboard wall. The bubbled plasterboard has been scraped off still leaving brown stained plaster.  So we shall seal it with B-I-N, refill, sand, seal with B-I-N, paint and sand and paint and sand and hopefully the colour of the paint in the tin will match that paint on the wall.
I've vacuumed all the ash from the woodburner, cleaned the glass window and tried to remove most of the gunged-on resin from the enamelled edges within the woodburner, cleaned the rigid tubes, and cleaned the glass hearth. Everything is now ready for the extra raccord ... but I am waiting for more advice.

The installers will be allowed back to finish the repairs:
NOTE: all male ends should be pointing downwards and all female parts should be pointing upwards .... the vessels need to receive any discharge that falls!

My friend suggested we asked for further compensation that what was offered but in France this is not done! The fact of the matter is that there has been incompetence or negligence.  Yes, he was not as expensive as some companies I was most interested in the style of woodburners that he was promoting.  He was a brand new 'entreprise' and wanted to establish business. This year 50% of my rooms have not been used because of the damage.

Never mind.. I am sure it will all work out nicely in the end... and life is just for challenges! 

Ice and Frost

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-17102918

When I go to this link to look at the ice that is breaking up on the Danube in Serbia it makes me feel so lucky that here in France we only experienced the tip of the iceberg!
Boats, businesses, leisure opportunities, people, animals, damaged, devastated, died, survived...and now the cost!
It's amazingly hostile and terrible, yet so beautiful and wonderful.
Nature has a way of making us come to terms with the earth we live upon.

Daffodils frozen in time are still in flower under bubble wrap.
Today, they breathed as they raised their tiny, yellow faces towards the clear, sky-blue sky in the warm sunshine.
But I put them to bed again as another night of frost is forecast.
Daffodils at the bottom of the page of this link.

Recovery

It's good to know I can bounce back more quickly these days.  Springtime is screaming to get me more fit and the winter weight shrieks to be shed. So it's avocado pears, conference pears, a wee portion of goat cheese and Nairn's oat biscuits that is loving and plenty.  Tired of winter fuel, snow, ice, sub-zero temperatures and the Michelin-woman effect of clothing even though it has been fun and challenging.   Longing for summer frocks and freedom, bike rides and speedy walks unhampered.  Yearning to have a working bathroom. Desiring bubbles for my very own French salle de bain.
I made my computer take a break. Two successful days of abstinence were achieved but I needed to word-process and translate into French an important document that needs to be printed in duplicate.  My fingers had a rest from typing.  There is the worry that arthritis or rheumatism is creeping in and causing horror.  Needing an ambiance to play the piano and accordion.  It is the least of my problems and less of a problem than many of my age, younger or older have to contend with. We must be grateful for good health when we have it.  It is a gift.

Struggling today

It's a different kind of struggle today
when although external temperatures have raised to +4C
it is incredibly cold in the house.
I can't seem to get the woodburner to chuck out heat.
I can't seem to get me to move around.
I can't seem to get me to do the admin work that is screaming to get completed.
I can't seem to get my mind onto what needs to be done.
I can't seem to stop myself wasting time sleeping, sitting and thinking.
I'm hunkered down.
It's winter.
I am displeased.

Having a laugh

having a bath!

Iced icicle - the pointing hand

An icicle grows: Click on a photo to enlarge.

The long arm

The Pointed Fingers on the Hand of the Arm.

Transmutation again.

And look how the heavy hanging arm has dragged the guttering down!

It was 130cm long before it grounded itself in the thaw of 13th February. Lucky for some that no one was beneath it.

Iced Water

Firstly photos of the river frozen: Click on a photo to enlarge.

 A rare view of an ice laden river below the chateau.

It's Saturday and I peel myself out of my warm, warm, bed.

I peel myself out of my warm, warm, bed.
Some may think it terrible but I think it was necessary to go to bed with clothes on, apart from my denim workday jeans and coat.  My hat soon fell off as I lay in bed with my head on the pillow reading horizontally and sideways, reading glasses being pushed off by the pillow.  Hunkered down with an ikea soft muslin-type shawl around my shoulders (the shawl is probably for a baby or child).  I am like that now as I need to be warm and loved in the cold and yet I can love myself when I am warm.  I laugh out loud. I am happy even though conditions are extreme.

This morning I peel myself out of my warm, warm bed.
Not so much shiver but feel the BLAST of cold air as I lift up the edges of the three duvets... I shall go and check these out for tog ratings ...normally the two is sufficient!   
{I think that the use of is, is better than the use of are but I am ready to stand corrected}
I feel the blast and snuggle down, check the clock of which the alarm rang 45 minutes ago.
Now to get up, for a friend is coming to help make a bathroom!
I stand at the side of my bed and an expletive emanates forth from my person.
I jump.  Star jumps.

I have peeled myself from the warm warm bed.
Get the coat on first, and light the fire. I chuckle.  How ridiculous is life!
A huge log has not even burnt in half.  Maybe I left the dampers open and yet one would have thought the log would have burnt through. The glass is relatively clean but I clean it anyway with newspaper and white vinegar, rake the ashes and leave most on the waffle bed, sprinkle with waste paper and kindling wood in a teepee fashion, replace the huge oak log which I temporarily and dangerously removed ..it was cold to the finger touch.. but as the air reached the underneath up-turned,  it was becoming to gently breathe in air and exhale smoke.  Now, all is in place as I push the door to, and whoosh the flames go, for the draft of the air has caused combustion from the heat in the cinders to the paper to the kindling sticks and to the oaken wood.

I need to attend to ablutions (from the Middle French/Late Latin abluere = to wash away) and put on the outer lower garments. I'm looking in the mirror and laughing, to see my face wrinkling and so I laugh more because now I can laugh when before I would have just grumbled.
Better to see amusement in life, better to get through it!

You see, it is 10C in my room and I am not in my warm, warm bed. 
I proceed to the kitchen where an icier blast hits me whilst I pour icy water into the kettle and return to put on a purple-soft, muslin scarf and my Nepalese red hat.  How I remember the "123 learning to read" books about The Red hat, Yellow hat and Blue hat families!!!!   Oh dear, I've disturbed the  blackbird as I peer out of the kitchen window. Bird seeds in a tin are taken outside and put onto the temporary, flat, terracotta tile, balanced on the snow. The soft, soft snow has a hard crust.  Break it and find the flurry of snowflakes sticking together. It's not the snow for making snow sculptures!
I came to the computer to find the correct time... I come to my blog and write... I like writing... I am beginning to like jotting about the moments of a real life....and thoughts, random as they come.
I have just opened the steel, cold gates, having heaved and shoved the wooden ones into an open position, the wooden ones hanging heavy on their hinges dropped on their hinges, scraping the drive heavily.  If I don't get them open I won't be able to get out!   Though I have a back gate.  The daily alarm has already occurred.
A telephone call rings twice to let me know he's leaving: "Get out of your warm, warm bed".
(I am not an early riser, unlike he who has been awake since 3,4,5 or 6 o'clock in the morning)
It'll take him 20 minutes or so in my car.  
He's coming to work on my bathroom.  How I love him for his kindness.  Imagine the dedication and commitment to helping me as his friend despite all our failings, errors, human weaknesses, ability to share joy and security, to annoy and irritate, to create aggression and anger,  passivity and passing of war and peace and all the memories.
An angry person cannot rationalise.  He or she has to be left to recover their inner harmony because it is their anger and their pain, their projection, their difficulty that they cannot say what is wrong and cannot meet their own internal needs without the storm. The angry person needs space... maybe a moment, an hour, a day, 3 months, a lifetime even.  Meanwhile everyone and everything in their path is ruined, even themselves with the anger or frustration turned in against their Self. 
I have been uncontrollably angry.  It was when I did not love myself and had poor self-esteem. My kids made me angry. Work made me angry. I tried to deal with it and then became passive and am now dealing with the consequences of passive-aggressive behaviour.  I am not blaming anyone or criticising anyone. I am facing up to what IS.
My dad was regularly a very angry, hostile man and yet you would never have thought that by his social demeanour.  Some people would never have known the ugliness of my past behaviour and for that I am deeply sorry. Anger is fear, frustration, needs not met and requires an honest, painful telling of the truth even though it may hurt.  It needs strategy for coping with.
Whatever the colour of anger and how it is transmitted I never wish to be angry again. I never want to receive anger from those who have purported to have loved.  Anger is not Love.  I never want to see Anger and Castigation being given to me nor someone else and I never want to hear it being projected onto me or anyone else.  If it starts I have to laugh or just walk away.
Too much thinking.
Stop now whilst I get my tea and toast.
Get on with living. The past cannot be undone but it can be learned from, in my warm, warm bed.

Ten

10th day of February
AT 10 am.
Minus 10C outdoors.
Plus    10C in kitchen and bathroom to be.
12C bedroom.
14C living room.

Improvement

Following on from my previous posting. I am not complacent.  I can always try to do better.

The best that one can do

I'm doing the best that I can:
with exterior morning temperature more than -9C with a 'feels like' -14C according to the metéo locale.  My brand new mercurial thermometer is below the -12C that it shows.
The indoor bedroom temperature is at +9C.
The door is open to another room where the woodburner has almost no red glow and there it is +11C.   The next room, the kitchen has +7C.
Outside in the Municipal where I put the electricity heater on to protect the toilet and water pipes from freezing as they nearly did..... it is +13C... not quite warm enough to have a shower but if I were to put the more powerful electrical radiator on perhaps it would be warmer over there!   I will measure that another time.
I have to confess that last night I slept with all my layers of clothes on minus coat and scarves, with abandonment of the hat at some time... accompanied by two hot water bottles and with three efficient duvets, feeling cold at 6am but getting up at 7am.  All I had to do on waking was to just put coat, hat and scarves on and I was ready for the day, to light the fire and try to get warm.  Star jumps are brilliant for raising the body temperature as also is playing the piano.
I never trusted the digital thermometer. My friend and I had three between us and last year we did a quality control on them. They all read differently both for the interior and exterior communication between digital technology.  Back to ancient barometers and thermometers it is!
So glad I bought this small device yesterday. It is comforting to know. Where I used to live previous to this house, I used to have the horrors in similar extreme weather conditions when I went to the wetroom or bathroom because both rooms were often less than +10C. One made a quick visit to return to the splendour of the 'too hot living room' where the woodburner warmed the room better than toast and where I felt claustrophobia.  I can't complain! We did the best that we could.
I've read that gas connectors can get frozen up so I don't know if that is the case or that I have run out of gas in the cylinder for the gas hob. I have read that it is best not to touch it if at all uncertain. So am I suffering unnecessarily? I am not suffering for I have the electric oven which also has a grill.    So the day before yesterday I put the all-metal frying pan under the grill... warmed up the oil, cracked in the eggs, splashed over the oil, and popped it back under the grill and in a jiffy I had fried eggs (instead of an omelette that I wished for) and wedge potatoes (previously cooked) instead of my chips.
Today I popped about 8 small potatoes in the oven whilst I went to La Presse..... where le monsieur has a shop selling newspapers, magazines, food, postal items, and a bar where he needs to be trained that I like HOT chocolate drink, and trained that I like VERY HOT chocolate drink, and after that with a bar of crunchie chocolate bar, I had a coffee and I sat by the fire and read in French the book I purchased which has the definitive historical guide about my village. A pleasant read for almost an hour... where some old boys came in for the apero before lunch plus an Englishman I've seen before who speaks impeccable French. I only knew he was English because he let slip a few English words with English accent. Here I was, the old girl, sitting by the café-bar fireside, with my Haute-Savoie / Nepalese red hat with flowery tassels and my black woollen coat and my brown silk and woollen scarf over all the rest of my attire.
So here I am... doing the best that one can!
And over there, wherever you are .... you, he, she, they are doing the best that they can.
It is all anyone can ever do.
To be truthful to who we are.
I am trying so hard not to tell lies, not even to my self.
I received someone's irritation and more today, but it was really about someone else and yet it was projected on to me.  Later I heard someone else's anger, but not at me, not about me, however, in that context I could help the person because the 'she' was able to do anger management control whereas the 'he' lets it damage himself and everyone and everything that comes in his path. Shame.
As far as I know, I don't get angry anymore and yet I know that in the past I have been angry with my SELF and my family and even my best soulmate.
NOW that I am older and distanced from being a parent and a grandparent because they are far from me, I realise that some of the anger I had was borne out of frustration, having very little constructive and positive ME time, though there were times when I was alone. Usually it was consumed by work or study or poor relationships and having few, if any, people to advise me, support me in a proactive manner. My cousin was always supportive even in the direst of emergencies. She would bring the medicinal Armagnac, give me one small dose, sometimes two, a hug, wise words and disappear to her own family.  I had a female friend who took the children to give me space.  I have regrets but they have to be released. I was responsible then for my sometimes poor parenting as well as for my good parenting but I am not responsible now for them.  I think my children do not hold it against me.  I did the best that I could.
What is the purpose  of causing pain to one self?  One would not wish to hurt another person so why get angry with anyone or the SELF?

Oh how I loved them and still do. Great for dancing and getting warm!
Paul is doing the best that he can!

Jewels for a Blackbird

Observations

I've watched the blackbird hungrily eating these beautiful pendants hanging in a garden not far from the river.  
I had a robin to help, scuttling in the borders of the courtyard when the birdseed was under several centimetres of snow, here more sheltered than in the back garden.
There is a miniature cave of bubble wrap over my bright red Camelia which was in flower shortly before the North Wind brought its gift of snow and ice.  
A cosy cave of bubble wrap where the wind has whipped it adrift and the darling little fluffedupballofredwhitegrey was sheltered in there saying "Hey feed me" as I peered out of the kitchen window. 
Blackbird, robin, blue-tit and long-tailed tit have been seen visiting my garden.  

 {}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Today I was singing and dancing 
as I stepped through the snowy hedged woodland 
where the angled branches of the trees criss-crossed each other 
as the pattern was highlighted by the white snow resting on the tops of the lines of the branches. 
I had no camera. 
Today I was singing and dancing 
along the snowpacted lane feeling the joy of living 
to witness such regal majesty of the wintry phenomena of frozen water 
and the prints imprinted of animals, humans, wheeled vehicles, skis and tobaggons; 
all had been there before before me with tracks to places known and unknown. 
Today I was singing and dancing 
to let the bright light into my eyes and heart 
and let it make me tired and content.

Snow Chateau

It's earlyish in the morning and I love the way the light has affected my photo when I have not changed the settings.

The red car enhances the chateau in the snow.

My street  05-01-2012 4pm

Ice by the river bank near the weir.

compared to the swollen river 6 weeks ago.

Fire and Ice

I woke up this morning, eager for the day, 

things to do and happy to say

that I am burning almost the last log of 5 steres.

Ho hum.

The winter has been mild and 'we', the 'Royal we', made savings 

and now pay for it later.  

It is the Law of Life. 

I complain not,  until,  I view my other woodburner
which at about 11pm last night I lit to warm up the icy rooms where lie oak parquet.  

Trees stand in winter so why did I do that when I am not there and cannot afford this year to keep the two fires alight night and day.  

It is an L shaped house - ground floor only - a veritable bungalow
with two large cavernous empty attics.  

Digression! 

On the hearth is a brown liquid which stops before it spills over the edge. 

 Behind the dead fire is evidence that treacly stuff has gone below the glass.  

I have emailed the Monsieur and sent photos but no reply. It is Saturday.  Monday I am sure they are closed. Tuesday I will be calling in! Monday I will call my insurance company. 

I cannot understand. 

Only two weeks ago the fire was blazing for a good 12 hours
and le chaleur was impressionant a mes amis. 

Pourquoi ????? For what indeed!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am concerned that I shall only feel secure if the whole job is refait!

          Meanwhile just outside the door of the same room hangs an icicle.  My very own! 

LANGUAGE:

le chaleur = the heat or warmth
impressionnant = impressive
Le travail devra être refait  = The work will have to be redone.

Wrapped up well - a sort of poem

Wrapped up well

Walking down the lane

Freezing air shock to respiratory system

Struggling to keep an even pattern

Breathing natural replacement of oxygen

Striving to breath correctly in through nose, out through mouth.

Steaming spectacles

Worn to prevent wind whipping into eyes

Doesn’t stop streaming tear glands

Like an old biddy.

Move arms as well as legs to keep warm.

Take hand out of glove to press a button for a photo.

Immediately fingers and thumbs are nipped.

Quickly enter glove again.

Move legs in a specific stride.

Regain a rhythm, an unconscious achievement.

After a while breathing becomes natural.
Doesn’t require concentration.
 

The body feels no cold

even though wind cuts like a knife on ice on the forehead,

the only skin exposed under a hat

scarves wrapped around neck, nose and mouth.

 

Study the tractor in the field

Using to advantage the frozen ground

Dig the bucket under the mighty rock

To and fro he works at it from all sides

slowly exposing it from the earth into the trailer.

Farmers see advantage in all weathers.

It makes me happy.

Wend my way into wind with lengthening shadows before me.

Turn at the junction.  
Head back

with sun before me now shining warmly on my face 

as robin flutters overhead in the branches of a tree.

Jewelled beads of ice shimmer in hedgerow skeletons.

Look at a little old lady in a purple coat and white hat.

Oh, am I like that
in my black snowman’s outfit?

Wrapped up warm, 
many layers,

breathing in the freshness from Siberia,

Happy to not be there.

Happy to be here.

Winter Parts - a prosepoem

Winter Parts

PART ONE

Wrap up well my mother said

as I ventured into sub-zero temperature

for a walk.

There's no work on my house.

PART TWO

Last year the diary said

there was ice on the roads

after skidding up the hill.

There was no work on my house.

Sat in the cold and the sunshine warm
of the lightest room of the darkest house

hey a bit like today
did the finance in a room with light daylight
and electric light

whilst the woodburner glows bright.

Last year we were glad to return

because next day news

reported

hospitals

patiently healing traffic accident patients.

PART THREE

Keep the log fires burning said my friend

churning out heat

requires careful observation
listen to the moment to add a next log

before embers crash

into ash

and flames die.

PART FOUR

Last year today

I finished a book entitled

The Suckers Kiss

then got depressed.

This year today

I finished a book entitled

Notes from Walnut Tree Farm
Roger Deakin

Printed posthumously.
I didn't get depressed. 

Sobbed

is not the word

as I once stood dumbstruck

in a Southwold bookshop

as Wildwood told me news
that he had died quite sadly
before his time.
I never knew.
A wonderful kind and gentle man
funny and serious
interested in the natural existence
of worldly things.

PART FIVE

Today I am happy

Delighted to know the snow

Is helping trees plants and humans

Shed germs and diseases.

Pleased to see jewelled ice beads

Clinging to twigs

Sparkling magically in sunlight.

Laughing at absurdities

Which are necessary learning tools.

Smiling at realisation

Feeling the key of why I can love so many people and so many things,
even those who do me wrong.

I love the snow: it does not love me but it matters not.

I love my hot water bottle: it does not love me but it matters not.

I love my cat and she loves me but it matters not.

I love my friends and family in ways they do not know

It is not for them.
They love me but

They do not have to love me for I love myself,

better than I did before.

My love is my love:

It is not for others. Need not be reciprocated.

This is what is making me feel so happy!
Now I understand. 
There's no work on my house but there's work in my head.