In recent months, I have developed a new addiction – travel writing books. My logic is that if my circumstances are such that I cannot actively be travelling right now then I may as well be doing the next best thing – reading about it.
Since my addiction began, towards the tale end of Autumn, I have visited the 7 most polluted places in the world with Andrew Blackwell, cycled from Mongolia to Vietnam with Erika Warmbrunn, driven around China with Peter Hessler, lived in a Javanese village with Andrew Beatty, and am currently whizzing around Jamaica with Ian Thomson. Up next – Barbara Demick will be covertly burrowing me through to North Korea before I then head off to the Amazon with John Gimlette. I am enjoying every moment of my trip.
I would seriously recommend this pastime to anybody else who misses the thrill of being surrounded by the unfamiliar but for whatever reason, can’t be doing it right now. It’s comparatively inexpensive, you don’t need any vaccinations nor to worry about having enough deet in your repellant, and you won’t be in any danger whatsoever.
Whilst it doesn’t quite equate to the real thing, it’s still comforting to know that you can get off the beaten track and learn about the world without getting out of bed, and that’s precisely what I plan on doing with the remainder of my afternoon. The Point When It All Makes Sense
Hitting the UK headlines this week was a rather shocking insinuation – politicians are capable of telling lies. Who would have thought so? But it’s true, former cabinet minister Chris Huhne was telling porky-pies about his ex-wife driving his car when it was caught speeding a decade ago.
Generally, anything to do with politics tends to go over my head somewhat(mainly because I have a hard time believing anything I read on the matter), but there were two things about this particular story which were of interest to me.
The first was that Huhne’s cowardice fits in perfectly well with the fact that his name, in German, roughly translates as ‘chicken’. Ja, genau!
The second is the feeling that I’ve seen his ex-wife, Vicky Pryce, somewhere before. No – it wasn’t when she was ramping up points whilst zipping along the M11 in 2003, it was somewhere else I’m sure…
N’ah yes, that’s it. As I recall, she was desperate for points then, too.
Interestingly, when Chris Huhne resigned from the cabinet over the allegations (which were initially made last year), backing came from the somewhat surprising source of none other than Fabio Capello:
“I spoke to the Prime Minister and said that in my opinion someone should not be punished until it is official that he has deliberately conspired with his ex-wife to knowingly deceive the authorities.” – Well, you’re the expert on the situation afterall, insider info and all that jazz.
It’s all conspiracy I tell thee!
To Give Up Something, or to Give Up on Trying to Decide What That Something Is?
Last year was the first time I had given something up for the entire duration of Lent. For 40 days and 40 nights, my stomach was a crisp, chocolate and cider-free zone, and I did feel a lot better for it. The weighing scales were grateful too, and calculating my weight was a slightly less painful experience for them than usual.
Lent begins again on Wednesday and I am still wondering what I’d like to give up this year. To repeat the abstinence of the 3C’s mentioned above feels slightly lacking in imagination, and I’m not so sure that crisps are thaaaaaaat fattening, and cider is something I rarely drink anymore anyway.
But what other guilty pleasures do I enjoy yet over-consume? Wine is one option, but I do believe that a glass of wine every now and then can actually be quite beneficial. So my resolution is to give up on buying any item of food or drink that isn’t necessary (to the new Sainsburys Local by the cricket ground – you have a lot of fat to answer for, buddy!). And finally, I’m going to give up on being lazy when it comes to physical exercise. A brisk 30-minute power-walk each and every day. Watch this space.
Bring it on Lent, I’m ready and waiting for ya!
Song of the Day:Ice Choir – Teletrips
I liked this artist the moment I read the name. ‘Ice Choir‘. Sounds like exactly the sort of music you want to listen to on a Sunday afternoon in February, when it’s raining and snowing outside, the sky is white, and the windows are spattered with rain and snowflakes. This song lives up to the image evoked by the name – chilled, soothing and mysterious. Enjoy.
I was delighted to find my Indonesia videos tucked away somewhere in My Documents recently. I had forgotten all about them because I didn’t think they worked on my computer… but watching them brought everything back – the sights, the sounds, the scents…the reasons why I fell in love with that country…
I’m a big advocate of living in the present moment as opposed to the past, but the truth is, two and a half years on, I still cling on to those memories so tightly because that trip taught me things I can’t imagine my life without. And I will never let go of those.
Like…learning the traditional Minangkabau dance and performing it at the Donation Day event in Universitas Andalas. It took so many rehearsals in the hot, humid heat. That song that would be oscillating round in my head each and every day…ding ding ba ding ding….and even each night as I tried to sleep….ding ding ba ding ding…
I remember the frequent rehearsal breaks to go and eat kentang goreng barbecue (barbecue chips)in the restaurant next door, and how thirsty the practice had made us, and how concerned we were over whether or not we’d be able to do a good performance at the event.
And how itchy the fabric of the traditional Minangkabau dress felt against my skin.
And how much I felt like a confused bowl of jelly up on stage.
But how much I loved that experience.
I see this video again for the first time in years and it brings it all back.
He’s often credited as one of the most intelligent people that ever lived, but this is all Socrates had to say about knowledge:
“And in knowing that you know nothing, that makes you the smartest of all.” ~ Socrates
A few decades earlier, fellow philosopher Confucius was expressing a similar sentiment in the far east: “Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance. “
I guess they were speaking at a time (circa 450 b.c) when there fewer ways to learn about their surroundings – no history books, no world-maps, no photographs, no Wikipedia… but even now, when we do have all of these things, I am still doubtful that – certainly when it comes to the intangible – any of us really know anything.
A calculator can tell us that 14278 divided by 9 is 1586.4 recurring. Google Translate can tell us that the Swahili word for ‘shoe’ is kiatu. A friend can tell us that a box of Mr Kipling mince pies cost £1.79 in Sainsburys. These are things we can ‘know’, these are measurable and definitive facts.
But when it comes to a lot of other things, our understanding is based only on how we have interpreted these things. Opinions. Feelings. Ideas. Not facts.
Here’s what I mean…
A twist on the age-old cliche – is this terribly-drawn picture of a glass of Blue Hawaiian half-empty or half-full? We might assume that a pessimist would respond with “half-empty” and the optimist with “half-full”. The mathematician may press his ruler against the glass to see whether there is any disparity between the number of blue and transparent millimetres against it. The alcoholic might argue, “Damn the glass! Where’s the pitcher?!”
They’ll each be sure of their answer, but they’re all looking at the same thing. Who’s correct? What’s the right answer? Is there even one at all?
And what about this drawing? What is it? A pair of ear-muffs that have been squashed? A piece of male genitalia? A rocket? Somebody’s long nose, bushy eyebrows and moustache? A toilet plunger?
Actually, it’s a sketch of the Washington Memorial set against a backdrop of the parkland shrubbery which encircles it. And I only know this because I drew it, but if I wasn’t here to say so then the answer could be anything.
There are 7 billion people on the planet, and each of them are unique. We may share our skin colour, hometowns, appearances, faith, tastes in music or preference of shampoo with millions of others, but our eyes – those useful things we see through – are the one thing which will distinguish us from absolutely everybody else. When you think about it, that’s a hell of a lot of different ways by which the things around us can be seen and interpreted.
There is a lot of positive sentiment expressed these days for being ‘strong-minded’ – having beliefs and opinions, and standing by them at all costs. With any flexibility to this can come the slightly more derogatory term ‘weak-minded’. I think that it’s important to be both – to have opinions, but to accept that they are not the same as truth, and to welcome any opposing suggestions. This may be sounding obvious, but it surprises me just how often I see or hear opinions being projected as facts. We all do it: the cashier who short-changes us in the cafe is stupid, the cab driver who drove us into town on Saturday night was a perve, Thanet is a shithole. But none of this is true. It is only what we think. It’s only how our eyes have interpreted things.
There is a very fine line between being strong-minded, and being stubborn. Insisting that the sky is a cyan blue has no credence unless you have listened to and absorbed the words of somebody saying why they think it is more azure in colour. How can we call the cashier stupid when for all we know she might be able to play Earth Song on a pan-pipe, how can we call the cab driver a pervert when he may just have a lazy eye. Perhaps Thanet is nicer on a sunny day.
We may judge occasionally, but we will never be judges. We can share our opinions, but we have absolutely no right to try and sell them as facts, and we cannot simply presume that people will understand things in exactly the same way that we do.
A middle-aged nurse and mother of two killed herself this week because she was left so abashed after falling for a cruel joke carried out by two radio DJs on the other side of the world. What was to them and many listeners a ‘funny’ prank was to her a catalyst of unbearable shame. This is a tragic example of how individual interpretations can manage to shape exactly the same thing into such a variety of ways. This is exactly why we each need to take much more care to try and understand each other’s perspectives a little better; to be far more aware of the fact that not everybody feels the way we do about everything, and to listen and learn rather than to scuttle away with our assumptions and opinions.
And so perhaps this is what Socrates and Confucius meant when they spoke of the limitations to knowledge. So much of what we think isn’t based on fact or truth, merely on interpretations seen through unique pairs of eyes belonging to people who have led unique lives.
Let’s remember that before we allow our opinions to transcend into facts, and let’s see if there are other ways to view the things around us.
Perhaps we might surprise ourselves.
Song of the Day:Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr – Vocal Chords
Detroit-based indie-pop band named after a racing driver. This is a great song My opinion of this song is that it’s great.
I never really used to understand the big deal about the sea.
Metropolitan town born and bred, I never felt particularly enthusiastic when my parents would express their desire to one day live by the coast. “But why? The sea dun’t do anything”, I would debate. I spent several Saturdays of my teenage years in the beach-hut at Tankerton we once had (before repeat vandalism meant we needed to sadly sell) and with the exception of those really hot, bright Summer days in which we could get the dinghy out I would normally just sit inside the hut shivering and cursing the cruel, cold air, just waiting to go home, to Watford, so that I could go to Wetherspoons with my mates and share a pitcher of Blue Lagoon.
And then I grew up, and started to pay a lot more attention to our landscape and the environment around us. Moving down to East Kent – with all it’s cobbled streets, historic buildings, coarse beaches, deep forests, and valleys adorned with bright scarlet poppies or neon yellow canola – slotted in perfectly with this. I began to realise how much I really appreciated the great outdoors, and just how beautiful it can be, and how even its imperfections can be a source of stimulation.
There’s something about this particular time of year which doesn’t fill me with too much inspiration. It’s that awkward, gloomy little period between the fresh heated glow of Autumn and the festive warmth of the run up to Christmas, with it’s illuminating snowy skies. Sandwiched in between those two somewhat cheerier bookends, we have November. November, where daylight is a fleeting moment and the rain bounces monotonously off slippery pavements that shimmer orange underneath the street-lamps. On a working day, it’s that image which seems to be my only experience of the outdoors. Oh yeah – and if that’s not bad enough, it’s freezing cold too.
That’s why over the weekend it was nice to visit Seasalter, even if only for 5 minutes. 5 minutes just to pause and look out to an open sea, a sea which spans 70% of the Earth’s surface. A sea which throughout thousands of years has remained resiliently lapping up to the shoreline – ebbing and flowing, but always there, always going. This movement is profoundly peaceful to look at, and sitting there on the sea wall, breathing in the fresh salty air, I remembered how important it was to take that time every now and then just to relax and reflect – to just observe the world as it is, as it’s always been, and as it’s meant to be. In those 5 minutes – everything else was irrelevant.
Song of the Day: Destroyer – English Music
Destroyer is the musical alias of Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Bejar, fellow frontman of indie-supergroup The New Pornographers. Predominantly indie-rock, Destroyer’s music draws upon influences from a variety of decades and genres, mixes it all up, and puts its own unique stamp on it. This is Winter Music.
This past weekend, I went and met up with some of my friends from University whom I don’t often get to see these days. There was a group of us and it was like we’d never been apart – we laughed a lot, reminisced a lot, and generally added a new page to the story of our friendship. It was good! It’s always quite surreal to remember that for three whole years we were living in each others’ pockets and yet now, all these years later – we are spread far and wide,as we have been for four years now, and seldom able to get together as a group. We are “just a scattering of lights across the globe”, as one such friend mawkishly predicted after many glasses of wine on the evening of our Graduation ceremony, back in 2008.
In 2012, I am glad to have these people in my lives still, even if all we do is make jokes at one another’s expense. It seems that these days, it’s very easy for people to completely drift apart from one another. People change. Their circumstances and locations change. Their personalities change. And that includes ourselves – we are changing too, in all of these exact same ways. It’s inevitable that, as our personal situations change, the time we have available to meet up with our nearest and dearest will fluctuate. At University, I was living on the same campus as these people and seeing them every single day. And night. Lancaster University campus was the size of a walnut shell. It was impossible not to see a number of friends to stop and talk to on just one short walk to the shops. These days – with everybody living in different places and doing different things – we can go days, weeks, even months without contact. It’s a massive contrast to how it used to be, but if the friendship is strong enough, these tests of time are no problem. However, there will be other times in which people change so much that friendships slowly dissolve, albeit unintentionally. People gradually forget people sometimes and that’s sad. That’s something I try very hard not to do.
I’m not one of those people who is constantly typing away to people on the phone or over Facebook. I don’t always think it’s necessary – I don’t believe that friendships should require constant contact in order to stay alive, and if they are that high-maintenance, they’re unlikely to exist beyond the inevitable boundaries of time and distance anyway.
That said, it’s nice when you do take that time to re–connect. To catch-up. To pretend you’re young again and yet to also age with one another. To reminisce and keep the memories alive. But above all, to continue the story – we all know that life is just one long series of chapters, and that each of the chapters have their own distinguishing features, but it’s nice to keep the characters recurring and keep the story cohesive.
Always make some time – no matter how small or how infrequent – for your relationships, and in turn those same relationships will know how to survive through time.
A quick word on Jimmy Savile…
So ‘Sir’ Jimmy is not quite Jim’ll Fix It For You but Jim’ll Stick It in You…? I can safely add my name to the list of millions who are disgusted by the recent allegations. Who would have thought that that cheery, comedic looking chappy in the tracksuit, who raised millions for charity, could have turned out to be such a poisonous little turd. The recent revelations may have been a shock for the likes of you or I, but his dozens of victims will have spent most of their lives with their minds burnt by such horrifically vivid memories. These women weren’t given the option to enjoy the same kind of innocence that we could – that choice was taken away from them by a gluttonous monster who was powerful enough to always retain his innocence, albeit the different kind. Posthumously strip this straggly-haired, self-gratifying old ogre of his knighthood and let’s distance ourselves a bit from this ridiculous modern-day notion that those who enjoy money and fame are always some kind of iconic super-being. There are far more admirable and respectable people out there. They just don’t need the limelight to make their point.
Intriguing Nuggets of Other Peoples’ Conversation #2471
I was on a train over the weekend, sat near to two immaculately-dressed ladies in fur scarves who looked and spoke like the sort of people you might expect to own a rural manor-house and make home-made jams and preserves for a living. Both seemed to be in their ’60s, and their seemingly ostentatious conversation echoed around their seats.
“I didn’t much like Meeelanie laaaast niiight,” one of them began to divulge to the other in posh, plum-voiced tones, “her outfit was AAAppalling”. Fur Scarf #2 agreed, “Iiii wasn’t too fond of her either…or that other one…”
“What a pair of bitchy old beings!” I thought to myself, assuming that they were probably referring to a blissfully-unaware acquaintance from Quifflingborough Croquet Club or whatever social circles they mix in.
Fur Scarf #1 continued… “N’yes, all in all, not what I’d consider true X-Factor materialll”
I alighted the train moments later somewhat amused but albeit with my tail between my legs. The dialogue had served as a timely reminder of the scope for error when casting judgment too quickly. Ho hum.
Finally, some arty shizz: I made a new video recently using some pictures I took in an old abandoned building we accidentally stumbled across during a bikeride. Those of a nervous disposition probably shouldn’t watch. Video can be viewed here . Or if you prefer – you can click on the link that’s somewhere over there —>
New cartoons on the way soon too.
Song of the Day:Dent May – Wedding Day
Mississippi musician who writes pleasant little dream-pop ditties such as this one. A good one to chill towards the end of a long, busy and dark Autumn day. I’ve had this one on loop for the past couple of days.
My current company on the train to work each morning is a blueberry flavoured breakfast bar and an inspiring little book called ‘Peace Is Every Breath – A Practice for our Busy Lives’. The author is oneThich Nhat Hanh (pronounced ‘Tik N’yat Hawn’), 85, a Vietnamese Buddhist and Master of Zen who has spent his whole life preaching peace and encouraging people to learn the art of mindful thought and living entirely in the present. A truly selfless individual, Thich Nhat Hanh was one of the first pioneers of the idea that inner-peace is of immense benefit not just to ourselves but to those around us. When war broke out in Vietnam in the 1950s, he was one of the first few Buddhist monks to find a balance between meditating in the monasteries whilst helping out those suffering from the devastation of war in the surrounding towns and villages. Amongst other things, he orchestrated the rebuilding of homes and schools, set up medical centres and helped re-house those who had been left without a home.
Thich Nhat Hanh in 2006 – photo from Wikipedia
His spirituality has taken him around the world, most notably to the U.S (where one Martin Luther King Jr nominated him for a Nobel Prize in reaction to his movements to oppose the Vietnam War), and France – where he still lives today, in the Plum Village monastery and spiritual retreat he founded in 1982.
Now – perhaps I am being too premature in my decision to devote an entire blog post to Thich Nhat Hanh – I am only 83 pages in to the first ever book I have read by him, and it is only our 2-week anniversary – for I had not heard of him prior to a fortnight ago, when I came across his work in my local book-shop. This blog post is not intended to be an in-depth study into everything he has ever said and done though, for indeed, I have only scratched the surface myself. Yet, already I am feeling as though I have benefited from having Thich Nhat Hanh’s ideas in my life, and I just want to spread the word.
It has only been in the last couple of years that I have fully begun to embrace my spirituality. It started with the travelling and the experiences in contrasting cultures, and continued last Summer – a challenging time in which I turned to spiritual writing to help me figure life out. These days, I lead a much busier lifestyle and have a lot less time to read and – most significantly – to think. Perhaps then this is why the following summary, as featured on the back of the book, is what caused me to select Thich Nhat Hanh’s piece over the wealth of others on the bookshelf:
“In his travels round the world, Thich Nhat Hanh sees how the hectic pace of life takes its toll. This superbly simple book is his response. Rather than telling us to put our busy lives on hold, he gives us the insights and tools we need to bring the practice of mindfulness into our every waking moment. With his guidance, we can transcend the mad rush of existence and discover the ability to experience transformation and happiness here and now.”
Mindfulness in our every moment? Despite how hectic and challenging a working-class lifestyle can be? Is it even possible? I would never have thought so, but with each page, Thich Nhat Hanh is starting to convince me otherwise:
“Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand-new hours are before me. I vow to live fully each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”
How do you normally feel when you wake up? What thoughts run through your head? I know what goes on in mine… and my personal version of the above would probably read something more like:
“Waking up this morning, I curse my alarm and my heart sinks at the thought of going out into the freezing cold to get my train. 10 hours of work are before me, followed by a train-home which will probably be delayed due to signalling problems in the London Bridge area. I vow to try and walk home as quickly as possible, and will look at all beings with eyes of compassion! Apart from people who walk really slowly in front of me, and couples who take up the whole pavement because they are incapable of parting hands, meaning I must walk in the road, where I will probably be almost mown down by some idiot in a car who should never have been granted their drivers’ license”.
But, since I met my new buddyThich Nhat Hanh a fortnight ago, I’ve been trying to adopt his approach, and do you know something? It works!! Time and time again, on this Blog and elsewhere, I have advocated the idea of putting our heart and soul into making the most of every single second. I know it’s the right thing to do – not always the easiest thing, but the right thing. My ability to do so does not always match the standards of that belief, but Thich Nhat Hanh truly inspires when he paints a new day in such an opportunistic light. The core truth is that: we are so damn lucky to be alive, no matter the pain we may experience from time to time. Life is one big paint-palette that will, at times, run out of the brighter colours and leave us with just the muddy greens and greys. At times: we will have our hearts broken, we will watch loved ones leave us for the Heavens, we will experience sickness, and we will probably experience many other forms of pain too. These things will never be any easier to deal with, but all the whilst we have our breath, we have hope. When our palettes then become replenished with the brighter colours we will be more appreciative, more learned, and stronger than we ever were before. Anything can happen and everything has purpose. Life is our playground and the daytime is when we get to use it. Thich Nhat Hanh lives for every moment, giving his full attention to his every movement, and that is a way in which we can all strive to live.
Another of Thich Nhat Hanh’s ideas on mindfulness that has struck out at me is that of clarity of mind and reflection. As humans, our interpretation of reality is frequently contaminated by our feelings and emotions. Important to us though these are, they don’t always provide us with an accurate, un-biased reflection of the truth. Thich Nhat Hanh uses a beautiful analogy of nature which describes what a peaceful mind may look like:
“The image of a reflecting pool of water represents a tranquil mind. When the mind is not disturbed by mental formations like anger, jealousy, fear, or worries, it is calm. Visualise a clear alpine lake reflecting the clouds, the sky and the mountains around it so perfectly that, if you were to photograph its surface, anyone would think you had taken a photo of the landscape itself. When our mind is calm, it reflects reality accurately, without distortion. Breathing, sitting, and walking with mindfulness calms disturbing mental formations such as anger, fear, and despair, allowing us to see reality more clearly.”
What he is saying here is that the more focused we are on what we are doing in the present moment, the less susceptible we are to having our minds contaminated by all those ‘ugly’ emotions: anxiety, fear, anger to name just a few. The moment your mind loses its focus, that’s when it will start to wander, and that’s when all those ‘ugly’ emotions – anger, fear and despair – will creep their way into your landscape. Mindfulness – and living solely in the present moment – is Thich Nhat Hanh’s solution to this. It is impossible to think about multiple different things at the same time. Try it and see. Can you remember when it was that you laughed the hardest and loudest you’ve ever laughed? What are you going to cook for dinner tonight?
When a negative thought enters our mind we have to shift back into the present moment and focus on what we’re doing, but what if that negative thought is direct result of something that is taking place right here, right now?
Thich Nhat Hanh uses another example from nature to combat this. This time, we are trees – tall trees – blowing around in a storm of emotion:
“When trees get hit by a storm, the treetops are thrashed around and run the highest risk of being damaged. The trunk of a tree is more stable and solid; it has many roots reaching deep into the Earth. The treetops are like your own head, your thinking mind. When a storm comes up in you, get out of the treetop and go down to the trunk for safety. Your roots start down at your abdomen, slightly below the navel…put all your attention on that part of your belly, and breathe deeply. Don’t think about anything, and you’ll be safe while the storm of emotions is blowing.”
We are humans and as such we have feelings. We are not super-intelligent beings and we don’t always know best. The way in which we perceive things is very much determined by our strength of character. We are loved, and we love. We have passions and desires, and should anything threaten those we won’t react well. Thich Nhat Hanh’s solution is to ride the storm by focusing on our ‘roots’, channeling all our energy into our lower stomachs and breathing mindfully. Doing so won’t always make the problem disappear, because let’s be honest – shit happens and nobody is immune from it, but just taking those few moments to check back in with ourselves helps us to steady ourselves and embrace whatever challenge we face in the strongest possible way, not in a kneerjerk, panicked and wilted way – but instead the most calm, collected and strong.
I could easily go on, telling you about the ideas of Thich Nhat Hanh, but if you’ve liked what you’ve read so far, why not head down to your local bookshop and buy yourself a copy of one his many publications about peace and mindfulness? Marvel for yourself – like I do – at just how much sense one individual can make. Thich Nhat Hanh is the kind of inspirational being that modern society needs – for he teaches us that in life, less is more. We don’t actually need a lot of things to lead a wholesome lifestyle – just a bit of mindfulness. All else will follow.
“In the garbage, I see a rose. In the rose, I see the garbage. Everything is in transformation. Even permanence is impermanent.”
Song of the Day:Owen Pallett – This is the Dream of Win & Regine
The first time I encountered Owen Pallett aka Final Fantasy it was one Monday in May 2005 and I was in London watching the Arcade Fire – who at that point were relatively unknown – performing in the London Astoria. The whole concert was a fantastic hybrid of accordions, brass, strings and a sense of sound which numbed my entire body. The sound of Montreal dominated my stereo throughout most of the mid-2000s, and it had been so special to be there watching the Arcade Fire perform – possibly their first concert in the UK. I remember a lanky guy with blonde curtains and a violin opening the show. His name was Owen Pallett and within his short spell on stage he managed to build up a great rapport with the audience. This song was his testimony to Win and Regine of Arcade Fire and the demands they had faced as newcomers in the Montreal music scene… but you don’t necessarily have to care about any of that to be able to appreciate this raw talent:
“Keep your friends close!” … And then keep them closer. Your family too. Nothing else really matters.
(Yes this post is probably cheesier than your feet, and yes I enjoyed playing with the felt-tips. Goodnight…)
Song of the Day:Eels – Climbing Up the Moon (Jon Brion Remix)
I’ve always loved Eels, and here is a remix which manages not to subtract the genius within the original. This is quite simply one of the most beautiful, poignant songs ever written. It’s claimed that writer, E, wrote it in the aftermath of a number of his family members passing away, and when I listen to this it feels like E is sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with me. I like the fact that this song isn’t well-known and overplayed, I think if it was it’d take away the magic. This song is my secret weapon, a hidden gem, and now it’s yours too:
Just be honest and true, And love all you do. Then somehow, what you’re looking for, Will find a way to find you.
But – even if it doesn’t, At least you were honest and true And loved what you do
Our honesty is the one of the best gifts we can give to those around us. It is also one of the best gifts we can give to ourselves, and we don’t even have to wrap it.
Sometimes, we waste too much time dealing in that which is not ‘fact’: making decisions on the basis of what we ‘think’ as opposed to what we ‘know’. The reality is that life, and a lot of the things within it, are uncertain. We don’t always have the benefit of evidence when assessing things, and without that there will always be a complete myriad of different perspectives by which to interpret the same thing, sometimes creating a confusion we can spend many hours trying to (unsuccessfully) ever figure out.
But what might help, and what we can do at least, is understand ourselves – and this comes only from being honest about our feelings and emotions. The better we know ourselves, and the more we acknowledge the ways in which we think and feel, the less time we will spend languishing in the bottomless depths of uncertainty. The right choices for us will become more apparent, and we can sooner identify the things we need to pay attention to from those which are nothing more than pure, fabricated speculation.
I think that repressing emotion is one of the most damaging things you can possibly do to yourself, and it happens a lot – people bottling up their real feelings to save themselves from the discomfort of how an acquaintance, or maybe even themselves, might react to the truth. This may seem to make life easier sometimes by avoiding any complicated, immediate repercussions, but in the long-term it leads to confusion and stress whereby one cannot differentiate between their own feelings, and those of another, and ultimately this leads to unhappiness. A life which isn’t yours. This even extends to what’s on the outside. Are we doing the job we love or the job that has the salary we think we should be earning? Are we wearing what we feel good in or did we select our attire today on the basis of what we think particular other people will think we look good in? Do you hide your tears because you have the strength to or is it that you just don’t want people to realise the shocking truth that you are, in actuality, just a mere human being? The latter option in each of these situations are a form of repressing emotion – an inability to say, “Actually, what I really want, and how I really feel, is….”.
And if you cannot say those words, you’ll never end up getting what you really want from your life.
And that’s a pretty grim prospect, right?
And if we’re living a life which isn’t really ours, and saying and doing only what we hope will please others or save ourselves stress, we are only intensifying the scope for misunderstanding and miscommunication which is already responsible for the waste of so much time and emotion. We are finding it harder to make our own decisions because our minds are messier, and we are finding it harder to express our feelings to others because we’re consequently unsure how we really feel, so when we speak, is what we’re saying even the truth at all? And if even we’re not sure what we mean, how the hell is the listener going to interpret it? Such misunderstanding can be dangerous, occasionally responsible for the erosion of once-beautiful friendships and relationships for no real reason at all besides a lack of clarity over the true intention of what was said or done.
We can’t always determine the way in which other people will interpret the things we say and do, but by being honest and true we can at least reduce the chances of misunderstanding. It’s not always easy to be an open-book, metaphorical nudity in a crowded room, but keeping up a lie is much, much harder. The honest approach is also much more fair on those around us even if the things we truly think and feel don’t necessarily reflect the way they might hope we think and feel.
The only people you need in your life are people who respect your true thoughts and feelings even if they don’t always agree with them. If somebody can’t do that, why the hell do you care about that person anyway? Say goodbye. That’s a person with the potential to fuck up your life before you’ve even realised it.
The more honest we are with ourselves and the more we understand ourselves, the less time we spend agonising over thelimitless what’s and if’s. It is what it is. We are who we are. We meant what we said and we said what we meant, and if everybody was able to do that – maybe misunderstanding could join the likes of legwarmers and trouser-skirts and be just some ugly thing of the past.
Be true to yourself always. You’re never going to regret a thing that way.
Song of the Day:Collin McLoughlin – Titanium (cover)
I always like a good cover song but this is just beautiful. ‘Nuff said.
Just lately, in various settings, I hear the following mantra yelling into my ears:
Less thinking about it, Less talking about it, More doing it.
Because, the truth is, when it comes to what’s going to happen next: I don’t really know anything. None of us do. We might think that we do, but we don’t. Chinese whispers reverberate around us the whole time, and the truth gets distorted at every utterance of it to the point where… nobody really knows anything. Even as soon as tomorrow, we may have an idea of what we’re going to be doing, but we don’t really know what it’s going to feel like – we don’t know if the traffic is going to delay us, who we might meet along the way, or what we’re going to see out of the window.
This is a life in which anything can happen at any time, so why do we only remember that sometimes? Too often, it takes tragedy to remind us how life and the future are under no guarantee, and how lucky we are to be alive. We hear of tragic stories on the news, or attend funerals, and vow to start making the most of every single second we have, but how many of us actually stick to this promise? Such sentiment is too often short-lived – quickly forgotten once we realise that the trains are cancelled due to signalling problems, or that it’s raining outside…all minor inconveniences which become over-dramatised the second we forget how lucky we really are, just to be here breathing.
I used to be a ‘planner’, but time and time again I realised how it can be such a waste of time… blueprints which were so carefully arranged but ended up tossed in the bin with the objectives crossed out and amended as time went on and the conditioning factors gradually changed shape in the heat. I still regard a bit of planning to be a necessity – a direction we need in order to keep ourselves looking forward – but when we put too much time and detail into those plans we are inadvertently setting rigid guidelines for ourselves and reducing the amount of space left for that factor of surprise to filter it’s way into. It’s that factor of surprise which ultimately stops life from becoming a mere repetition of routine, day after day.
Essentially we only have one moment to ever do anything, and that is now. If we really want something in life, we have to start working on it right now. No more meticulous planning, just action. We need to stop delaying our dreams until days which may never come, and start making the most of the present moment so that we can keep our lives full of surprise and retain the potential for new ideas to filtrate through.
I’ve come to the realisation that I’m never going to know whats going to happen to me next, and you know what? I’m not afraid of that anymore. A good book is one to which you don’t know what the next page will bring. Spontaneous is the key. I never thought I’d be the type to be able to plan and book a holiday just a few days before going, and I never thought I’d be so comfortable not knowing what I should do next in life but…
…I’m happy just to be here breathing, right now. It’s time to really make the most of that, and squeeze as much juice out of each moments as possible.
Song of the Day:Mexicolas – Take Off
“I know you’ve got a fear of heights, but everything will be alright”
sophiekemsley 