Respect

Things are not always what they seem...

Once in a far away land in a remote kingdom set deep into a hillside, lived a small community. It wasn’t a very rich or extravagant place to reside, as the natives were simple folk who were happy to live together in harmony. Each individual mingled and co-existed with mutual pride, tolerance and acceptance of each other’s differences. So much so, that the villager’s nicknamed the place RESPECT.

One day a very odd thing happened to RESPECT – and no one is sure how it came about, but this is what transpired.

It was a hot and lazy summer’s night and most ordinary folk had settled down for the night. And altho' the king's servants were going about their normal routine, not one of them noticed in the half light that mischief was afoot - taking the form of an unknown shape. They tended the King's animals, prepared food for the following day, and drew water from the only well in the kingdom. Working with diligence and conviction as people with contented dispositions usually do, unaware that from this night hence, the village would become affected in a most profound but unseen manner.

As the summer sky light melted into darkness… and the well that had brought life to generations faded from sight…. and the village was still. The deed was done.

Upon the morning to the outside gaze everything looked exactly like they had the day before… cows grazed in their fields; villagers bustled about carrying out their daily routines; a picture book sun warmed the air and chattering filled the ears of everyone… but all was not right. Things were not as they seemed, for with each mouthful of water drawn from the well, mischief passed their lips. It moved like a canker to invade the harmonious contentment, growing in strength and vileness with each sip. A strange cloud of paranoia began to grip the thoughts of the villagers and strangle their mutual deference.

Men, Women and children alike began to act with increasing self interest; their view justified by the knowledge that all others did the same, and that they should protect themselves against the evil deeds others would do unto them. They wrapped themselves in a blanket of misery which they sugar-coated with the pretence of being as happy as they once were. Each one pretending for fear that others would realise that they were damaged and cause them unseen ‘harm’.

RESPECT was dying and no one noticed nor cared.

Only the King had not drunk from the well. His anger could be heard far across his lands and beyond as he tried to reach deep into the minds of his beloved people. The very earth shook with his rage and frustration as he sought to shake them free from the delusions that held them ignorant prisoners of their own poisoned thoughts. He shouted with disappointment and appealed with compassion… to which the villagers listened and watched with affection, for they loved their great King. But all too soon patience gave out and rumours germinated in the mouths of the villagers that their once mighty leader was no longer like them… Why did he act this way? Was he mad?

As the seasons passed the villagers began to forget that they were even pretending. All thoughts of caring and being cared for by others dissipated like a misted memory, leaving the village to be cold and unmoving, cynical and untrusting.

The King felt fear. His burden was indeed heavy, for how could he care for his people if they imprisoned him for madness? …… He fell silent and wept privately for his people who had been poisoned from the well but did not know it. He knew that no words could rouse them. Reason was dead to them. He remained confused and vulnerable amidst so many people now all too ready to shame him for being different, but pretended to have drunk deep of the well, whilst all the time secretly craving a way back from this new world which lacked human contact and warmth. Back to a moment where human kindness would once again bring trust, love and understanding, where he might lay his weary head upon the lap of another soul who shared his escaped from mischief.

Years passed…….

The king continued to cry through loneliness and despair… his tears flowed and mingled with the rainwater which flowed to replenish the well. Outcast and marginalised this once proud man grew tired of pretending and found little remaining pleasures in the rhythm of the desperation. He gave up carving smiles from the ironies that slipped by unnoticed like fallen silken handkerchiefs discarded without care. His spirit felt crushed. His heart hardened and his soul blackened.

Solace found him far from the village where his new laws did not care to reach. Only nature offered him understanding as he wandered over abandoned fields that clung to the distance like a mantle cocooning the horrors that had transformed the land he grew to detest.

He sat a while and lamented as he had on so many other occasion that if only he had drank deep from the well that night….. oblivion would have taken him and saved him from this dreadful state. A state where he would be bound for all time to scan the faces of others to seek out another such as he, who had not drunk from the poisoned well but knowing he would be unable to utter a word should the chance ever come his way, for the fear of being wrong.

But hope is a hard task master and despite his sadness, the King’s sorrowful heart lived on and his search continued……

Fine Tuning Frequency

Social conduct and patterns have me foxed. I cannot claim to be socially adept mostly cos its not even plausible. Tho' sometimes in moments of madness, I think I'm getting a handle on situations,.. of people... but it doesn't last, the belief crumbles under the weight of their pretence, only to reveal moments, hours or days later that in fact all I was doing was duping myself.. honesty died and social convention buried it!

I dont understand what's is so scary about honesty, so scary that most (if not all) folks I know squirrel away themselves, never to be seen beyond fleeting glimpses? It makes everyone feel foolish for being open, laying themselves open to being vulnerable. But its good to care ... isn't it?.

.....and so you see other people remain a mystery to me... I try so hard to see their agenda, understand what it is they prefer and minimise my intrusion upon them.... It's all such hard work that I'm left exhausted and as foxed as I was before I started. Sometimes I get so preoccupied by this that I forget to ask myself 'Does it matter?'.

We all have our own individual sound, vibration, voice or music. (whatever word you like to describe it) In some people it's very apparent... they are bouncy and vervaceous, the kind who make you smile by just being close to them. At the opposite end of the spectrum is those who like to live under a cloud of gloom (if only they didn't feel the need to share it!!)... and many lying somewhere in-between..... it's the thing that makes us uniquely ourselves (yet inextricably part of the whole rich tapestry of life to coin a well worn phrase).

This personal essence gets covered over, clouded and drowned out by so many things. Apparently, people who vibrate at higher frequencies are more likely to have greater success. (and no prizes for guessing that's why we smile and feel happy jst to be in their company)... And that once you start moving at a faster tempo, maintaining a steady rate is easier because of momentum. The key is to use a blast of energy to overcome inertia and then you're like a runaway train. (The faster you move, the more energy you have. The faster you move, the more you get done and the more effective you feel. The faster you move, the more experience you get and the more you learn. The faster you move, the more competent and capable you become... woo wooooo ....)

But recently this has all begun to pray on my mind... weighing me down in a way that makes it difficult for me to be creative. So instead of exhausting myself in a conundrum of figuring other people out or trying to reach someone else's ideals... I've decided to peel away dead skin ..... shake loose the dross... shrug off advertisements and cultural programming.... kick the opinion of others habit..... grind up preconceived notions and blow the dust to the winds. I want to find my own frequency!!

Random Chance

Sometimes things aren't always transparent and life has a funny way of taking you in directions you'd rather not go..... now I could say its fate or destiny but I'm not sure that would cover everything that happens in life well enough.... but rather appears as a mere cop out or a hindsight explanation.

Would things turn out differently if we knew what was in store?... and even if you feel you are standing at a crossroad in your life and look down into the possibilities each path promises..... do you really have a choice?

I'm beginning to suspect that it doesnt really matter much about the journey nor the paths that presents before us. As T.S.Elliot wrote:

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

Maybe the route and those we encounter are simply a means to an end.... and that all we are really seeking is some better awareness or insight into ourselves. If this is true then any sense of connection or attraction to someone else isnt as important or earth shattering as we might be lead to believe. Is love simply a motivation to keep going? A cruel twist of human nature that cannot be overridden nor stemmed...

Each day a spider spins a completely new web as I've watched and photographed their daily toiling, it brought me to wonder if humans are no different - but cant see it cos they are blinded by fancy notions and dreams.

Supposing that there is nothing more than the illusion that there is more?... Where does that leave all our hopes, dreams, wants, desires and beliefs?

Hey, It works for me!

Idiosyncratic things you do that are just fine with you.. can these be appreciated by others?

I once had a neighbour who enjoyed orange juice in her breakfast cereals instead of milk. I knew a child who squirted ketchup into her vegetable soup. Most of us have weird but ingenious methods for saving some time or money, but rarely share these idiosyncrasies... I wonder why?

I suspect its for fear of what others might say or worse still think... I remember my darling ex husband making me throw out 2/3 of a pot of chilli, claiming that it was left overs and only pigs ate left overs!... I couldn't get over the waste for the sake of appearances.... and the irony was he is a pig (in the employment field, not literally ~~ tho' sometimes I wonder about that too - but I realise I shouldn't type that cos then I might appear bitter! ah for keeping up appearances!!)

Anyway, back to the food - what my partner hadn't realised was that I'd deliberately made more than we could eat, just to have the pleasure of eating it the next day for lunch. What did I do?... I left a message on top of the box

Important message: they aren't leftovers,

they are Planned-overs!!!

.... and I like 'Planned Overs'.

His retort?.... 'only lazy fat people eat lunch'....

I'm delighted that our relationship is much improved now we no longer have to interact with each other. I guess if Soulmates are made--not encountered in some cosmic game of Marco Polo, we didnt 'make' it!

Other things I do... Ive noticed or that have been pointed out to me include..... when I am going from one part of the house to the other, I have to recite my mission out loud: keys, washing, feed the cats. keys, washing, feed the cats. keys, washing, feed the cats. Otherwise I will get out to the car with no keys, the cats have started throwing themselves underfoot in a bid to get noticed and fed, and there are no towels for the shower.

Actually, as I've typed that it's reminded me of a time when my little habit caused me some concern... I work for myself and have an office at home, so usually my buzzing around trying to remember ten different tasks at once with a mind that can barely hold onto one isn't a problem. However, on one occasion when meeting a client in their office I went to use the facilities and didnt realise that I was 'thinking aloud' when a lady using one of the other cubicles called out, "Are you talking to me?" I didnt know how to reply... How very embarrassing I dont mind telling you!

Also, in a vain attempt to be economical and efficient... I can't leave a room without picking something up that doesn't belong there and taking it somewhere else. So I spend way too much time carrying 'stuff' around with me whilst planning circuits for drop offs!...

Hmm... maybe I should be more concerned with appearances... maybe I would've in my younger days... and now I realise that I should be me and not a version of me that someone would prefer me to be. There's a line somewhere in Hemingway which goes; "The war still went on, but we didn't go to it anymore." Perhaps this phrase captures my state of mind which has slowly settled on me - a kind of disengagement. Its still a war for some.... but it's no longer my war.

<~~ sneaks off to enjoy 'planned overs' for tea!

KEEP OFF THE GRASS!! conformity, apathy or blind faith?

I sometimes feel that we British folks are an 'awfy hodden doon' people who tolerate mediocity. By contrast I have met with some people who appear to have mighty axe's to grind - live a life of activism - as my grandmother would describe them they are 'born fechters'. I often wonder what makes a person a 'warrior'. Maybe its set in early childhood - a life that starts badly and never catches up.

I'm reading a novel called 'Never let me go' by Kazuo Ishiguro - but it has upset me - so I've put it aside. It gradually becomes apparent in the story that the main characters are human clones - in every way like us -except they are bred solely to provide vital organs for others - and are thereby condemned to an early death. What I found most annoying is the failure of the clones to rebel - their passive acceptance of their fate. Maybe its my interpretation of it but, Ishiguro seems to be saying that all our lives are in some way stunted and unfulfilled - that we can only make the best of what we've got. This is too compliant for me.

I know that individual lives break down, but i think history shows the human spirit to be beautiful and invincible. (i distinguish that from human nature - which is shitty, farty and self obsessed). I don't believe that any form of oppression can ultimately prevail against human reason. Without the element of resistance this novel slips into poor psychology - is not true to life. Or is it??

Whilst at University t'day I stood over hearing a group of Britains young hopefuls (those who will decide my fate when I become to old and infacile to do it for myself) and as I listened I couldn't help but hatch a little plan to put their claims to never take things at face value to the test.

I arrived early at a workshop venue and stood outside the door, having watched the tutor enter the room as I came down the corridor. Now to put my plan into action. I stood against the wall beside the door and as the first of the 20 other students arrived I explained that the door was locked.

So we waited.... I didnt have to repeat my lie as those who I'd told were all too happy to relay the information on for me. I grinned like a loon to the furtive glances of the growing throng - but no one questioned the situation. We stood for in excess of 10 minutes and I suspect that would've been longer had the tutor not popped her head around the door in obvious concern.

The faces of my fellow students was a picture! My reply to the rows of questioning glares?... "now that's faith and social conformity in a nutshell!!" - grinned broadly before ducking past the confused tutor into the room.

I think i'm gonna love philosophy!!

Truth - a property or perception?

Some day's darkness falls and my demons come back and it feels like the bad men are coming to get me again. Fear and anger intrude - nothing and no one seems genuine - I imagine insults - feel a fraud. In the gloom I've learned to move to automatic pilot - survival mode. Avoid humans - avoid decisions. Potter around my garden or get creative - focusing on wee manual tasks with their own meaning.

Keeping it simple.

This evening I made some food for myself - nothing fancy, just plain. I really enjoyed it. As I ate I thought the banquets with friends will come again. Then I went for a walk along the estuary where I always go to reflect.

There's one shop in the nearest village - hanging on by a slack nail -so I try to use it. Waiting yesterday behind old Tom who dropped 50p. He's 86 - can't bend - so I say "let me get that." As I handed it over he dropped his stick and gripped the counter unsteadily. When I gave him the stick he didn't speak to me but smiled - gathered himself - did a four point turn and hobbled slowly out the door. As I remembered this scene I began to feel a quiet fortitude all round me - everywhere folks just getting by. Life has its defeats. It's about steadying ourselves - re-gathering - and moving on. That's just the way it is.

As I continued to walk I came to a place where I became more conscious of the wrong I have done in my life - broken promises - unpaid debts - abandoned friends. For years so much denied - I dread what's still to remember. Sometimes I feel a burning shame. T.S. Eliot called it, "The rending pain of re-enactment of all that you have done, and been." I guess none of us are really that different after all. We simply do the best we can..... what good is it to hold onto hurt and pain?

On the way home I visited one of my friends who has been ill - when I visited she was over the worst but still very weak. The mood was reflective - I think she's had a fright. She asked what parts of my life I'd enjoyed the most - would choose to live again. "I find that difficult, " I said, " I remember the bad bits more." She told me the memories she cherished about some fun times we'd shared. How, every Sunday - a small group of us - rain or shine spent the day in each others company. How on summer evenings we'd watch our children playing till the light failed. How we'd toil side by side over our vegetable plot, battling the relentless war on weeds.

For two hours we exchanged happy memories. I guess I realised that its all too easy to be consumed with negative emotions, which distort your hindsight memories.... I need to remember there is joy too in the re-enactment of what we have been. I dont want to have distorted memories about the people in my past.... and however fleeting, I am glad that our paths crossed.. and whatever happens in the future I hope I can always see the positive effect.