hourglasses, my life and death

Here is to time that passes!

My life went through the hourglass.

I did wake up on the other side,

Feeling washed down by the tide

Here is to the first fine lines

Those that are there to stay,

To mark my face like clay,

The first signs of my decline.

Here is to ill health and death!

I know you are watching me.

In time I shall be ready for thee

kinda don’t hold your breath

I raise my glass to you all

Because I am not done yet

30 is the new 15, and in all,

who knows where life will take me next.

mariama (Turtle dove)

Artistes Baaba Maal

Ah little pigeon
Thank you Mariama Diallo, Diallo Dieri
Nimma Mariama
Mariama, namesake of Mariama the golden pigeon
Mariama Sola
Mariama the perfect mother
Mariama the ideal woman
Mariama a true sister
Turtle Dove, Mariama Diallo Dieri
Mariama, a real beauty
Mariama's neck is long and graceful
Mariama's countenance is beautiful
Mariama smile a little
And I will reward you
Look! you are the moon among the stars
Look! you are a light in the darkness
My turtle dove
You stand out from the other women
Like a white crested heron among birds
Ah my turtle dove
Thank you, Diallo Dieri
She doesn't tease
She bears no ill will
Nor even hints at it
Diallo the Peul
Yes Mariama Diallo Dieri Nimma
Dark as ebony
Daughter of God
Diallo Dieri
Mariama looks after her family so well
Mariama cares for all her husband's needs
Oh Mariama
It's time now to see to your neighbors
For you are well known for that
Diallo Dieri
Mariama the perfect mother
Mariama the ideal woman

© Baaba Maa

Si c'est assez bien pour Winnicott...

Winnicott et la mère sufisamment bonne

Winnicott (1887-1971) est pédiatre de formation et devenu psychanalyste pour enfants en s'inspirant de Klein, et il va plus loin, dans l'apport de l'environnement primaire. I est à l'origine de l'affirmation qu'il n'y a pas d'enfant tout seul.

L'idée de mère suffisamment bonne vient du fait qu'elle ne doit pas l'être trop. Si les parents comblent tous les besoins avant qu'ils se présentent, cela ne laissera pas à l'enfant l'occasion d'éprouver du désir. Cela entraverait la capacité de l'enfant à élaborer face au manque par exemple, à sentir le besoin, à avoir envie de quelque chose, à agir. Il se fait alors l'objet du désir de l'autre. Il ne faut donc pas être trop bon non plus. L'enfant a déjà à s'occuper de l'angoisse d'abandon, et une mère trop bonne y ajouterait une angoisse d'intrusion ainsi qu'un renforcement de l'angoisse d'abandon. Il est important à ce niveau de comprendre qu'on ne peut pas rattraper sa propre enfance à travers celle de l'enfant. L'enfant doit apprendre à être soi, tout seul, en présence de l'autre.

Le parent doit aussi faire face à sa propre ambivalence: la relation à l'enfant n'est pas tout amour, et une pulsion d'agressivité va s'exercer, notamment à travers, chez de nombreux jeunes parents, des rêves de mort de l'enfant, qui sont une façon d'exprimer cette part de nous.

Winnicott met aussi en évidence la préoccupation maternelle primaire. Elle est perçue un peu comme la maladie de la relation avec l'enfant. Elle s'exprime par le fait, durant les moments périnataux, que la mère s'éveille juste avant son bébé, quelques seconde à quelques minutes. La maman est hypervigilente et dépersonnalisée, et perçoit les micro mouvements de son enfant par empathie, lorsque celui ci commence à se réveiller. Cela permet la communication entre parent et enfant (cela peut aussi arriver au père).

Oh, Baby...

I wish I was stronger baby, not to run away and hide, to keep things going in a nice and peaceful way. But I couldn't. Couldn't deny myself the right to think there was better out there than the shadow of a former love story, good enough for pre-pubescient girls, who had turned sour after the smoke of the initial sparkles dissipated.

I know baby you could ask for better yourself, better than me dragging your life into chaos, marching into the unknown with a feminist banner held high. You might say you frankly don't care about my ideals and Look! how sadly this story ends mummy.

But you know baby, I was dying in there, foreseeing a dark cloud of ashes turning all our little joys into despair and I didn't want that to be the end of our happiness. I love you baby and you will grow to discover that relationships are neither easy nor perfect, they bring upset, hurt and doubts but each step of this journey is a beautiful discovering of oneself and others which in itself makes us the way we are and I hope you'll understand that I will be a much better mum even if I am half as perfect as I once thought I was.

Newly wed play chess

The Queen and King are standing

One in black and one in white

Blankly ahead they keep staring

Are they ready for the fight?

Yes I will, was their promise

In the days when all was bliss

Today, they stand and shake

All too aware of what’s at stake

The knight approaches, its horse in tow

Is it the end of an era?

When she surrenders her bra,

Their union suffers the last of its blow

Rigid, infertile, they saw it coming

Chess had its shortcomings!

They knew it from the start

All newly wed beware!

Love does not talk the talk

Nor marriage walk the walk

Unless you pave the way

Every day of every year

And do not jump astray

A life long prayer

And he bleeds and bleeds and weeps

Upon the sheer horror of his existence

Days on end of painful remembrance

That cuts so deep it spills into his sleep

Baffled, frazzled and confused, he

Thinks himself as a martyr

His all life long been a satyr

Estranged from love how could he? Be.

Her curse spread beyond the grave

Beyond mind and body she craved

To possess him so utterly,

He would turn into a zombie

Please Love, Please live, know how

To be freed from the past.

Break, burn, bury that cast

Out of the ashes phoenixes regrow

Lake Navaisha