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talking to one’s self

20121216-231728.jpg

Yes, here I am again, solitarily talking to myself.
Studies show that it’s a mental and physical form of release, justification and excitement.
Yes, I guess I do blog about myself, who else could I speak for?
Question is, where’s it taking me… more and more into an insular world of introspection?
Or is it a release for natural introspection, a purging of the essential contemplation? A contemplation that started when as a growing boy, I first realised that we are essentially alone. A moment, with stars, sky, sea and misplaced(?) instruction…
We all find ourselves somewhere on the introvert extrovert spectrum, some more polemic than others. I don’t think introversion is a crime, but it’s often perceived as such and it can be a weight.
In today’s society/community the extrovert is celebrated, championed and adored. We are expected to take part, join in and display.
A traditional organic community existed as a result of necessary relationships, necessary structures around work, religion and local commerce and trade. Today we find fabricated communities created as novelties and commodities, clubs, groups and lifestyle choices.
I feel there is still a great need for real community but real community does not readily fit with our individualistic, purchasable, ‘click and collect’ world.
My introspective nature generates guilt, when attempting to be part of ‘community’, one fails to entertain, failing to display value, failing to suspend disbelief.
In his book ‘Solitude’, Simon Parke talks about “the feeling that no one really cares what happens… an awareness that we lack close and meaningful contact with others, which produces feelings of being cut off from them.” and that “many people have been taught loneliness. We want our children to live active lives in the world, and so train them for activity. But if this is the only world they are taught to value, a world of external stimulation, they become alienated from themselves”
We teach our children and ourselves to be part of a collective consciousness but when that collective consciousness fails to be worthy, fails to perform, one has no value, we fail, we have no place. Solitude is a reality, loneliness is a symptom of a shallow ideal.
With solitude I can mindfully talk to myself.
With loneliness, talking to anyone, even oneself, can be hard even not possible.
Happy daze?

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Unfocused…

An unfocused time of year…

rudolf

With plenty of expectation of… “we’re not sure what”, thoughts at this time of year can become a tad fraught.

I can’t focus my thought right now, ‘cos I’m thinking loads about something and something about loads and it’s all getting a tad pre-Christmasy and end-of-the-yeary…
Cards to write and send, insurance to sort, nativities to see, guests to please, friends to see, presents to arrange, wife to please, kids to educate, what did i promise?, animals to feed, bike to mend, money to save, try not to forget, try to remember, try to try, next year to put off…

Mindfulness gong! …and relax… !

jbells

I noticed the other day that social media posts about stuff, issues, opinions and the like, get “occasional comment”, but images of silly jingle-bell hats and reindeer costumes get bounteous “licks”.  Curious…

Perhaps instead of banging on about how this is this, and that’s that and OML whatever next, we should all just get festive and unfocus… ?

…or should we re-focus?

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Little red boat…

Autumn At Sea

Little Red Boat            July 1994lrb

I went down to Godreavy,
sun, wind, land and sea.

The waves relentlessly toil, rolling,
the kite struggles with the wind,
the gull hovers in authoritative glide,
the lovers walk not hiding their pride.

The bay sits and looms, like the rocks,
the spray of the waves wets the breeze,
the horizon inheres, definitive, there,
the clouds pass on their way to somewhere.

The elderly couple walk with the wind,
the surfers fight it and laugh.
the sound of the breakers, endlessly boast,
the holiday-makers try making the most..,

…of a scene that I love, and is me,
the screaming sea-gulls agree,
the sun’s gleam makes a silvery coat,
there’s a little red boat just barely afloat,

In the bay being bossed by the sea,
a little old boat just barely afloat,
the screaming sea-gulls agree,
a scene that I love and is me.

Sun, wind, land and sea.

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Wake up…

20121122-230435.jpgOur jobs, our families, our homes and our social-lives* what else is there?
A lot of our energy is taken up with the above and indeed we cherish and put effort into maintaining “our” lives. Tending to our “gardens”, polishing our “treasures”, getting, doing, being.
Yes, I agree, there’s a lot of shit out there and some of it can take a great deal of patience, tolerance, acceptance and forgiveness. We work hard to make stuff right, ‘cos it matters.
However, there’s a lot of ‘stuff’ in between. Yes, it’s a cliché, but it’s vitally important.
We rush to and from these things, we fill the gaps with ‘stuff’ and perhaps don’t notice what we are hypnotically passing by.

John Lennon famously sang about his Beautiful Boy “life is what happens to you, While you’re busy making other plans”.

Indeed! And what Antony De Mello said is often true, “wake up”:
“Most people, even though they don’t know it, are asleep. They’re born asleep, they live asleep, they marry in their sleep, they breed children in their sleep, they die in their sleep without ever waking up. They never understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence. You know, Catholics, Christians, non-Christians, no matter what their theology, no matter what their religion — are unanimous on one thing: that all is well, all is well. Though everything is a mess, all is well. Strange paradox, to be sure. But, tragically, most people never get to see that all is well because they are asleep. They are having a nightmare. “

“The best path to self-actualization is not to Become Your Dream; rather, it’s to Come to Terms with Your Nightmare” BikeSnob

Various things help to wake me up. It’s an ongoing thing – “’cos everything’s enchanting” isn’t it?

A few years ago, I attended a ‘speed awareness course’, following a minor indiscretion on the highway, officer (and a faulty speed-camera). Amongst other insightful discussions was the simple reminder that, when we’re travelling past or through somewhere, that “somewhere”, is often where other “people are, or live”. Often our journey, through a village, into the city, down the corridor, into town, through the kitchen, around an estate… is about a and b, and the path in between is overlooked – just a means to an end. But real-life is “going on” as we pass through/by!

Our world tends to get populated more and more by things, and not events and experiences.
When planning our lives, tidying the house, travelling to work or “the shop/s”, it’s too easy to neglect the journey: “what we are actually doing”. We’re often busy with something better, something shiny, something polished, something jingly and exciting(?), we’re busy making our plans.
We subscribe to various forms of distraction, tonics and chococoffeecelebritygossip. We buy into culture and the collective consciousness. Some of us have to occasionally sneak Aldi Cheeseballs into the basket. Some of us have to pop pills to stop the “busy-making-other-plans” taking over and crashing the machine. Some might need a good defrag. And we all need careful ongoing maintenance.
Some of us might be able to just stop all the clocks… and be truly thankful… but it’s harder and harder in this world of non-stop 24/7-365 interconnectivity.

Where am I going with this I don’t know…

But I am here, now, breathing…
I see my children growing and sleeping and I’m amazed at the miracle of life.
But I love it when they wake up, and, as children they do see lots that we miss!
When I do go to sleep I try and acknowledge a smile on my face – and I try to remember to truly “wake up” tomorrow.

“The best path to self-actualization is not to Become Your Dream; rather, it’s to Come to Terms with Your Nightmare” BikeSnob

(*for those with children, I’m told social lives do exist and will re-emerge you know!)

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Absorbed… (not cool, but true)

I work here

Absorbed…
If you know me you’ll know that music is one of those things that floats my boat.  I’ve always had music† in varying forms around me. I, like most, enjoy, value and try to find new ways of seeing through music.
However, it’s been a year or so since I valued any ‘specific’ recorded music. A few artists that I’ve followed for many years have dropped off my list, their output was just not reaching me, and while thousands sang praises about new albums etc they failed to engage me. I found I couldn’t listen to ‘stuff on my list’, it was just not singing anymore. Shuffling through, I would skip, skip, skip and possibly turn it off.
Possibly linked to my period of transition*? I don’t know. I have kept up casually listening to ‘stuff’, with the help of Late Junction, Jools H and Spotify, but, as I say, I was not absorbing any specific artists output? Perhaps the loss of faith in humanity? Perhaps a loss of confidence in past assumptions and values? It’s affected my relationship with music.
However, as you might know, I am revaluing perceptions and pursue a new outlook*.
I recall one specific discovery as a 19 year-old lad, on a grey wintry trip to Woolworth’s in Camborne. I recall reading the lyrics all the way home and… turning on the ghetto blaster in my room… I remember a profound engagement with the sound, the feel, the lyric, the music… OK, it’s not cool, but to me then, it rang of “things bigger”. Since that album, Deacon Blue’s debut album, Raintown. I’ve collected much of their material; the albums, as well as various CD singles from the bargain bin in Woolies. How can you forget such classics as “Dignity”, “Loaded”. “Real Gone Kid”, “Wages Day”, and “Fergus Sings the Blues” etc. Especially when you’ve heard them live in various forms. But more memorable were the album tracks that burned impressions on in brain. I’ve followed Ross and Mcintosh etc and have seen them as a band and individually many times in numerous places. Then I had kids.
Last month, I woke up to hear the immediately familiar tones of Ross and team on my radio! Yes, a processed pop tune, but nonetheless “The Hipsters” had the old sound. A new album; my curiosity was raised. The sound rang round my head. All the familiar sounds came back, the lyrics, the images, the various thoughts and feelings from 25 years ago, that have been layered since, with other thoughts from other artists that also got through to me.
So, I’ve had “The Hipsters” for my birthday, along with socks, slippers, pjs, etc that you get from your kids when you’re 44.  Now on my ‘wish list’ is the “Ooh Las Vegas” album that I lost in transit somewhere. And, the overlooked The Great Lakes and Pale Rider that I have spotified repeatedly recently.
Ross and team have always evoked something that I identify with, as have many other’s on my list. So, thanks for the new album Deacon Blue, for awakening my senses.
I had lost the ability to absorb. Fighting the period of transition had hardened my neurons to ‘stuff’.
Imagine not enjoying any food to the point that you don’t eat.
Well now I’m eating, and it tastes nice.

Listen to your breathing.

†by “music” I mean anything that creates a resonating expressive sound. However, as with food, there is “formulaic” & “processed” music and that falls on the edges of my interest. Yes I like the occasional “Flames” burger and pack of “Nic Naks” as much as the next, but there’s a lot of pap out there. It’s advisable to watch your diet – you are what you eat! And, there’s a lot of stuff you’ve never tried. Listen.

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We cycle to know we are not alone…

As you know I cycle. However (bear with me),  cycling as a sport is not my thing. I don’t find the spin and whirl of the latest chrome or carbon gadgets specifically exciting, I don’t find the latest audacious audax or spritely sportif of interest, “different chevaux for different courses” I guess.

Cycling for me is a way of travelling, getting from a to b, but also it can be a catalyst to seeing the world and your place in it in a new way. Not easy to summarise, it’s essentially an ongoing experience, but over the last year or so I have discovered a few notable (and readable) cycling related reads.


One of my first finds was “The Bicycle Book” by Bella Bathurst.

It’s a great read on the essence of the bike and bicycling. I’d suggest an essential starter.

“What is it about the bicycle that so enchants us? And why do its devotees become so obsessed with it?
A journey through cycling’s best stories and strangest incarnations. A brilliantly engaging portrait of cycling’s past, present and…”

 

“It’s all about the bike” by Rob Penn was another good read.

A great enthusiastic study and search for the best in cycling without overdoing the technical.
“the bike’s story, from its cultural history to its technical innovation to the fascinating colourful stories of the people who ride it…. with humor, humility, and authoritative intelligence… a rare and precious portal to the heart and soul of bike culture and its surprising footprint on all of culture”
.

Recently found, and I’m still reading, a lighthearted but enlightening read “The Enlightened Cyclist“.

TEC

Making me smile and think…
“Discussing the trials and triumphs of bike commuting with snark, humor, and enthusiasm: If we become better commuters, will that make us better people?”

It’s great when you find the reading of books build on each other. Indeed, when unrelated books enforce each other and start to agree and colour a picture in your mind, then life can seem more real.
In “Shadowlands” we imagine C S Lewis “we read to know we are not alone”.
I suggest we also can cycle to know we are not alone.

Onwards!

Incidentally, TBB borrowed from the local library, IAATB and TEC via KoboBooks.
I guess the drawback to readers of the ebook paradigm shift is that I can’t lend you the book to read…! ?
*** Incidentally, 5 years on and I read real books, the e-reader needs charging ***

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Safe Space Counselling

I recently produced a logo and graphics to publicise a new Counselling Service that starts in early November.

 

I know from personal experience that at certain times in their lives people sometimes really need to “talk things through”.

People might be suffering with relationship problems, bereavement, money worries, redundancy or anything else.
The reasons can vary from obvious concerns to underlying issues that might not readily seem relevant.
Often we find it hard to turn to someone we are close to, and would prefer to speak to someone who is impartial. Or perhaps we don’t want to talk to anyone, because “I’m alright there’s nothing wrong, bark! bark!”.

In my case, it took months for me to realise (be told) that there was something I seriously needed to face up to.
I urge anyone struggling with ‘stuff’ in any way, to talk to someone impartial!  It might just clear the air, or it might be the a big small first step towards viewing life in a new way, or repackage things and seeing things from a different perspective.
For me it was not a conscious logical process and I can’t explain it – it was a deeper stirring and repositioning of long-held notions and instincts.  My period of transition (which is an ongoing thing) was not without ‘incident’ – as you might expect when you stir up sediment. But the first steps of “talking it through” led me towards quite an amazing, albeit sometimes still bewildering, world.

Safe Space Counselling is a new counselling service operating out of Birstall and Syston Methodist Churches.

It will be a place where people can make an appointment to see a trained counsellor and talk in a place that is safe, secure and completely confidential.  The counsellors are trained to listen and support the clients to work through their problem or anxiety. The service will open in early November. Appointments can be made by contacting 07938 779 477 or send an email to safespacecounselling@talktalk.net   There will be a website to view the services available from mid November at www.safespacecounselling.org.uk

Download Flyer PDF Safe Space A5     Download Details PDF SafeSpaceA4

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The rowan…

The rowan has besprinkled her berries
the robin is now elsewhere
morning
bare, exposed and open
tonic, nurture and growth
an anointed shield might soften over time
skin can be shed
glimpse
ever so special
whispers of freedom
let it go
breath

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Choc Orange Fruit Brownies

Sunday afternoon therapy: make the below and then watch Tales from the Wild Wood.

Heat oven to 180ºC. Line an 8 in square cake tin with baking paper.

Over a simmering pan of water melt the butter, sugar, and choc in a large glass bowl. Stir it occasionally.

Remove the bowl from the saucepan and leave to cool.

Zest the orange and juice. Whisk these together with the eggs, vanilla, and salt.

Whisk the orange and egg mix into the cooled chocolate mix.

Sift the flour, cocoa, and baking powder onto the choc mix and fold it in. Fold in the white chocolate chips and juicy raisins too.

Pour into the baking tin and bake for 25-30 minutes.

  • 225g butter
  • 275g soft brown sugar
  • 200g Green & Blacks dark chocolate
  • zest of a large orange
  • juice ½ orange
  • 4 eggs
  • 1 tsp  vanilla extract
  • pinch of salt
  • 110g plain flour
  • 30g cocoa powder
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 110g white chocolate chips
  • Good handfull or two of juicy rasins
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A touch of the hem? Haunting Vibrancy

Walking around leicester today… …it’s been a while. People; characters, so many different lives, weaving the mesh that is….

I can’t find words… my routine day to day life hides me from the vibrancy of people! I guess I’m naive and fail to see outside of my habits and duties.

‘Iguanagone’ by Frank Bowling OBE, RA.
Leicester New Walk Museum & Art Gallery

We came across this painting ‘Iguanagone’ in Leicester’s New Walk Gallery – Iguanagone (The Council’s photograph does an injustice) I find it hauntingly vibrant, deeply resonant, why?  I’m not familiar with Bowling or any issues he’s exploring.  Is that ok?  What can we take from viewing this artwork?  Is it like hearing a song in another language?  Is it like entertaining a stranger?

August Sander, Farming Family 1912
© SK Stiftung Kultur, Bonn/All Rights Reserved DACS 2011

Also on display at New Walk is a collection of photography by August Sander.  Again, some of these images, especially as a collective, are intriguing. Images of characters, people, from the early part of the last century.  Strangers again, but strangely, hauntingly familiar?

Thoughts come back to ‘people’, so different… yet supposedly essentially the same?

Am I just naively seeing the wrappers, the book jackets, the brandings, the tribal clichés?

At a quick glance the rich tapestry of the initial experience is vibrant, but the resonance is deeper (or closer?) than that. The essential character is hauntingly present.

I don’t know what, and it might only be a touch of the hem of truth, but…
I know something about Frank’s ‘Iguanagone’. I know something about August’s ‘Farming Family’.
I know something about the tattooed girl in the coffee queue, the man up the ladder, the youths bunched around a secret, the mother fraught with baggage, the uniformed assistant, the proud bus driver, the dedicated follower of fashion, the struggling student, the carefree young man, the obsessed teen, the wizened ladies, the brillcreamed old soldier, the businessman, the lost girl, the tourist, the thief, the addict, the artist, and even myself…

I know something about them, but probably only just a glimpse of something true.

JPR Harrowgate Flower Show 2012