It feels like I bounce around a bit with my posts as the whim and events in my life nudge my thoughts, and I felt it was time to do things a bit differently.
Ive been struggling of late with trying to reconcile how life is and has been, with who I am and what I’ve always hoped life would be.
Trying to shout at the world doesn’t work and no one can change who other people are. Not that changing other people would help anyway. It’s only my own view but I think we all have a little good and a bit of bad in us. It’s what we choose to make of our good and bad which defines us, not the fact that we carry them.
Anyway, I recently came to the point of realising that all I can do is care a little and hope that, that could do some good in the world. Perhaps a smile can change the world.
And so there’s a theme for my next few posts – putting out some positive emotions..
With that in mind I want to have a go at telling you what hope means to me.
I’ve already alluded to the fact that I used to have hopes and dreams of what the world could be – magical ideas of connecting to others ( mostly animals and plants ) more. A crazy dream I guess but one I still feel, all be it in a more practical way.
It’s why I wrote about the recent protests the way I did – because I want to see people listening and really seeing each other and things made good from that, rather than things being forced into place and people holding resentment and fear for changes which they could have been part of. Of course I wrote it in the wrong way – shouting and rushing in rather than listening – but I hold to my reasons for trying, even though my methods were rubbish.
I still hope for that and always will; I hope that, seeing there’s good in people and that everyone else is a person as much as we are, can give people pause to realise some good in themselves too. I hope that it can change the way we look at the world and ourselves. Most of all I hope that it can make the world more beautiful than I can imagine or wish it to be.
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A good man ( Chadwick Boseman ) died recently, I read. He struggled to finish a film that he hoped would be inspiring and visited people who were ill the same as he was, although he never made his illness public. I can’t presume to know him or what he felt or wanted but, for me, looking at these news stories, it’s a reminder of how someone can care so much that they want to leave the world with a little more light, even when they know they wont be there to see it.
If anything can symbolise hope for me it’s that kindness of heart and the fact that there are those who would give that much.
If anyone wants to comment with their hopes I’d love to see them and for them to be shared. I think, having something to dream of and hope for can make a difference, whether it’s just for ourselves or it touches the world.
I don’t know about anyone else reading this but I find that sometimes I worry about how one dimentional our views of even other humans can easily become at this point in time. I say ‘at this time’ but, for all I know, this time has always existed.
It’s very easy to watch people from a distance – on tv or via facebook – and create our own image of who they are or, worse still base all our view of them on our own gains or loses.
With facebook and other such mediums in particular, there’s the option to just like or share a post without listening to what that person is feeling or trying to say. Likewise, on tv, actors become the embodiment of the characters they play and the question of who they are underneath is lost, even in those times when we see them off-stage.
As I say, this could be more about me than the world as a whole, yet it feels like something worth mentioning and a thought that’s important to share.
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Why do I think it so important?
Again this is me being me but, I find that personality and emotion are such an important part of how we interact and perceive each other; with art and cooking we say that person has created from their heart or expressed something of who they are; with those close to us we value our connections in the moments we’ve shared tears or joy; on Valentines day our love is shown by our understanding of what our loved ones care about and enjoy. I don’t recall someone being told “I know you care because you know I’ve got a small nose” ( although it may be because I don’t know the right people ) however the times the line, “S/he remembered I love …..” is used are beyond counting.
It’s so easy to look at posts, tweets, blogs etc and think we know all about those people and that they fit in a label. At the same time the things we don’t share easily are often those most important to who we are.
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I guess what I’m saying is that it’s always worth stopping for a moment to remember that there’s more to that post you’ve read or that sound bite you’re about to swipe past than just a flat moment. I think it’s a loss to not hear the person behind that soundbite both for them and the reader. Of course it’s something I need to think of myself as much as say to the world ( after all, how else would I notice it if I didn’t make these mistakes myself ).
I have an odd view of bravery, I think. It’s not about the lack of fear because doing something that doesn’t scare you is much easier. No, I don’t see bravery in the blind charge. In crowds supporting each other to do what needs to be done even though it’s scary – there is bravery. Yet, for me, the bravest has to be those who don’t know they’re brave; the quiet voices who do what’s right though no one sees them and when they are alone; the ones who are true to what they feel is right even when they feel deserted.
I say this and another recent change comes to mind. From childhood I’ve always desperately wanted to be in a group, with the safety of knowing I’m right by weight of numbers; validated by my peers. It’s scary thinking you’re on a path alone and so easy to just cut a bit of yourself away so you fit as one of the rest. It’s odd when you get to the point that you suddenly realise that it doesn’t matter what others think anymore because I can’t and won’t cut away another piece of me.
I don’t know if that’s brave or, maybe, just a fool patting himself on the back for something he should have known long ago. Maybe it doesn’t matter. At least I can be me.
You see, I’ve wrapped myself in crowds and ideas of what I should be, to try and hide the hole in me. I’ve cowered, I’ve charged. I’ve felt alone when those who truly cared about me were right beside me, listening. They didn’t seem that important then, or close, because they wouldn’t wrap and hide my wounds or transport me away from myself. They loved me too much for that. I miss them so much now, those that have passed, and am finally starting to see those who are still there with me.
That’s what they were waiting for, and what I’ve needed for so long. Not something to fill my hole, just to stop running away from it. To stop looking for the bright lights and big banners in life and realise that there’s love in the silence and pastel shades.
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So, in reply to the post which started me on this thought process – When someone opens their heart and stops running; When they look in themselves instead of turning their eyes; When they don’t need to change who they are to accept themselves. Then they are brave, and that’s what I read in the words of yours – someone brave enough to write that they didn’t feel it and strong enough to keep walking forward through their fears.
I’m stuck at home right now – a sudden heatwave makes it both dangerous for my health and for the life of the gardens I look after to work today.
All very logical and proper but, when you wake feeling ok and look out at sunshine the first thing that comes to mind is, “You’re being lazy and should be doing something – anything”
It’s crazy really, when you think about it, how we end up carrying these mantras ( for want of a better term ) long after their value is obviously out of place and they’ve lost the context that gives them purpose. Things like holding your emotions in so you can deal with a situation ( but, when that’s dealt with and you’re alone at home? Do you still find you can’t let go then?), or hiding your weakness and brokeness long after your enemies have gone and there are only friends around ( there’s a wonderful post here about finding something special in our broken parts – https://pointlessoverthinking.com/2020/07/02/we-are-all-a-little-broken/ ).
It actually feels, at times, like the whole past 5 or 6 years have been one long journey in realising that most of my problems come from old habits to help protect myself, and learning how to give those up. Yes, habits, that’s what they are. Maybe we should have a whole organised thing going where we each stand and admit our problems? The whole, “Hi I’m ****** and I’m compulsively hiding behind activity and pretending I’m not really me”. I know it’s a cliche and even mocked, but I’m serious – after all what’s an addiction, or a habit, if not a way to hide away using some unhealthy means to avoid facing yourself? Admitedly some are worse and more powerfully destructive than others but, believe me, when you get to the point that you look at the world and see that you’ve almost disappeared under the weight of trying to change to please others; that the only ones who really seem to see, or look for, glimpses of the real you are unable to get close because of the walls you put up and could even end up being pushed away; that so many have got used to you just being there and don’t even realise that you have other places you wish to be…
But I’m sure I’m not the only one.
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You know, I became a gardener because I loved life but, now, I go to work and struggle to get back to that point, so long have I forgotten the gardens and just been there to do whatever I’m told. That’s what makes my mindset today such a noteworthy thing to me. I can’t choose for my customers today – it has to be about me and the landscape I’m responsible for.
Of all the things that shakes me about this, that has to be one of the biggest. I lost sight of something so fundamentally me as my love of the life around me and it took the fear of losing those who care about me, for me to see it!
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So, today, I’m going to stay home and, as I have for a while now, fight to relearn a little more of myself and find some more of my magic. I hope this can help others with the same.
Really, I never imagined starting a blog with such a line..
Anyway I ended up watching this movie. It wasn’t an instant choice or because I’m a big Goldie Hawn fan. Rather, I simply wanted to watch something that didn’t feel angry or sharp.
I don’t know if anyone else finds this right now but, for me, it feels like the world is angry at the moment. I don’t mean the protests or people struggling with the current lockdown, nor what our leaders are doing. I’m refering to something deeper. I watched the Goldie Hawn movie as much because there was a certain innocence to it. There was no anger or need for great battles and true evil, no scarred depths, just a fun yarn and wild ride.
Oh, I know, a lot of people are having to face and deal with their scars or speaking out about things long buried which shouldn’t have been, but I, for myself, can’t be angry anymore. It takes too much of me away; burns too much of something I like in myself.
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Not long ago I wouldn’t even have noticed what I was losing.
I so wanted to be part of a group; to validate myself by being with others who shared my views, because, after all, how can we be right unless there’s a whole horde thinking the same thing? It was so easy to belong as well. All you had to do was drop everything you believed in that didn’t match the group you were joining and, hey presto, you were a member of a group and your thoughts and dreams would now be valid. Hmm.. Yes, I know, but I didn’t see the obvious then. I didn’t really notice that I suddenly wasn’t living MY thoughts and dreams.
That’s what this blog has been about, even if I sometimes forget it. It’s been a chance to find my voice. To shout all those things I find I can’t in my physical life ( well, I can, but only to one person ). To belong, not in some group of hundreds but just in a group of 1 – me.
It’s not as easy as it sounds to join this group. For one thing it’s scary to stand on your own, to not have an army behind you validating your words. It’s like standing on a cliff edge, ready to jump, and you look down and have no idea how you’ll survive the jump, or even if people will notice you’re gone.
It’s odd, now I come to write it. How could I not have noticed the obvious.. The scariest thing about ‘belonging, alone’, well the scariest thing is that maybe, just maybe, it didn’t really matter that I was part of these other groups in the first place. Maybe all that time I was part of a big group made it easier to pretend that my existence mattered to the rest of the world, and now. Now, with only the vast open air and sea, and the sound of the wind echoing around, I have to wonder if they even noticed I was there.
It’s scary to think that. It’s also liberating once the fear has gone. I grew up thinking I had to be valued by my peers and, to suddenly ask what it would be like to be valued by me, that changes everything.
Not that I can take the credit for finding this path though. I’m here only because someone loved me enough to want to see the real me, and I was too scared of losing someone so special and my defences slowly fell away. Just one person was all it took. One person who thought, felt and cared about who I really was and was strong enough to not walk away.
If no-one else ever notices I was here I still think that it’s enough that I notice, and she does.
And the sun rises beyond the horizon, the wind is cool and hopefilled, carrying with it the sounds of a hundred birds waking. Thrift flowers colour the rock face and lichen gives brightness to grey stone. Water lapping gently. Maybe it’s nice to sit here a while.
I’ve been offline for the most part recently. It can get like a rushing river of thoughts, ideas and opinions, and I tend to drown rather quickly in that kind of rush; losing my sense of self and any hard ground to hold onto.
It’s not the first time, or even the only place where I find it hard to stay ‘me’. I’ve recently also come to some kind of early understanding of how I can get lost in pleasing people ( and changing my life to avoid fear of disappointing others ), something which has left me more twisted up than a pretzel.
So, for this post, I thought I’d simply drop everything else and ask that toughest and scariest of questions – WHO AM I?
Not an easy one to answer either, is it? I’m all the work and things I do for other people; I’m an aspect of those groups I tie myself to; I’m the words I cry in frustration, blindness, anger, pain; I’m my biggest mistakes and most accidental successes; I’m a thousand colours seen through the various lenses of all I touch.
I’m all of those but, when everything stops, I’m none of those.
That’s what makes it so scary after all. The fact that I don’t even know, and I can’t ask anyone else to tell me or join some group to make me, because they’re just clothes I put on.
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What’s that? You’d like to have me say who I am?
I can’t. I don’t know yet… Actually, it’s kind of nice to say that. To not hold to expectations of being a specific. To be free from saying, ‘less than this ability and I’ve failed at me’.
Who am I. I’m the one sitting in a world that suddenly feels more open and alive, now I’m not looking at shadows for an image of myself. I’m the one who’s smiling and, just maybe, a little bit happy.
You may have noticed that I’ve not posted for a while. The truth is that I’ve had a lot on my mind and, if I’m brutally honest, I wasn’t sure what was real, to write about, any more.
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No, this ISN’T where I start talking about a brush with madness. The thing is., I’ve built up all these ideas of what the world is, based on the things I’ve lived through; the people I know; the places I’ve seen. Then, suddenly I came across ideas and people who turned that all on its head, not through some difference that’s just skin deep or to do with who they love ( which is important only in telling me how to identify them across a crowded bar or reminding me how much of a gift loving is ) but by the very nature of the struggles they’ve faced and the choices they’ve had to make.
I know I’m not the only one to face this, and I wont be the last to, either. How we face it is always going to be unique to each of us, just as what we see in each world is, but I imagine some of my reactions will ring a bell.
Hiding – Yep, that’s the first one I face. I hold on to the sheer power of my belief that my rules of how life should be are right and obviously these other ideas are mistaken. The classic argument that there’s a flaw in the others reasoning or, perhaps, it’s just that we both missed a small detail that makes my way right.
Running Away – Second up and my all time most effective way of dealing with things. The curl in a ball technique and the way I hid from my bullies when I was young. Oh, it’s so easy to switch off to other people’s lives and other ideas. All we have to do is change the channel, or walk away from the chat group, or even drive round the outside of that neighbourhood.
Blaming Someone Else – Right, I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets nervous facing this one. I’m absolutely certain that I’m not alone in doing it too, though. “Oh, the planet’s being poisoned. It’s all the oil companies fault. Excuse me, I’m just going to go spray weed killers on my garden or burn some petrol.” “Those poor people are homeless. It’s the councils fault. No, of course I don’t want to go to a public meeting about finding ways to house the homeless and I sure don’t want anything lowering my home’s value.”
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Are you scared, nervous or shouting the good reasons you have for not looking? You aren’t alone because I sure would be too. And, lets be honest, our lives and our personal fears and problems are important and we have to care about those around us first, because we know what they face and are there.
But that doesn’t mean we can just pretend this isn’t happening.
It’s like the world is made up of millions of bubbles – other worlds – one for each person. Each bubble can be so different that its hard to understand them but they each affect the others around them and each is a unique marvel that can never be replaced.
I’ve been torn between ignoring all the protests and anger right now and trying to get some idea of what everyone has gone through to make them need to stand up.
I know I’ll never truly understand it, and I’m glad of that in a way, because to understand ( properly understand rather than empathise or conjecture ) I would have had to live it and I don’t think I could. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care or should ignore this other world around me.
It’s a scary world, full of pain and anger and things we’d love to brush under the carpet because they’re scary. It’s one that we can close our eyes to if we want. That’s the crux of the matter though and the stumbling block that stops me hiding. Do we really want to ignore these other worlds?
Is it worth side stepping these issues? Or will the lessening of another’s world be the lessening of all our worlds?
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If we all wait and huddle away and think it’s someone else’s problem what does that do to our world? For surely, if we just ignore attitudes and issues that cause pain, and turn aside from the tearing cracks which are trying to make us distant from each other then wont there come a day when those pains and cracks also surround us?
I’m certainly not brave enough to march in protest and I wouldn’t risk the danger of giving Covid to those close to me but does that mean I cant look and see what I can do? Ask if there’s some petition which I agree with or write to my local politicians, even just say what’s on my mind so others can hear and make their own decisions on what to do.
These protests, to me, aren’t about just a march or one person who was murdered. They are voices trying to get us to look and see; People crying out to be heard because they can’t breath any more.
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No, we can’t change these big scary problems alone but, the truth is we don’t have to. All we need is to show those in power that we know we put them there and, together, we want them to change their ways or we can remove them. That’s the power of democracy and the thing the gets hidden from us. You see, every quiet person going to work in a small job, every telemarketer or typist or whoever. Every one of us is in charge of employing our leaders and law givers. We voted them in to do a job, NOT to be gods, and we certainly didn’t give away that power, although we sometimes forget we have it.
So, if like me, you’re looking from your own bubble world at the protests, just remember that we can take the time to listen and we don’t need to be brave or strong to help change the world.
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Black lives matter., and so does every life, no matter how different they seem, because each of these lives is a person like you; like me. Each may be a brother or sister; a mother or father; a friend or carer. Each matters and is important. And each deserves your voice and love.
Now is probably one of the hardest things we, as a world community, will ever face together. A crisis reaching into every part of our personal lives, not just out and about but finding its way into our very homes.
It’s scary I know. I feel scared as well., and yet there is light here too.
A couple of days ago the NHS in the UK asked for volunteers to help with various things like delivering medicines and driving people to hospital (https://www.england.nhs.uk/2020/03/your-nhs-needs-you-nhs-call-for-volunteer-army/ ) and the number volunteering was already over 500,000 by yesterday; One of my neighbours has organised for us all to share phone numbers so that none of us are left alone and vulnerable and I have found that my offers of getting shopping for my customers have been almost universaly turned down because their neighbourhoods and families are reaching out to each other to make sure no-one is left without. All of these are quiet but powerful beacons of hope.
For all the times I’ve mourned the harshness of our madcap, isolated and selfish rush to keep afloat in today’s life, this dark time has reminded me of something special that we tend to bury deep or miss in the normal rush:- We have the strength to care. To reach out as much because we know fear and that others will be facing it too and need our help.
So, each vision I get of this new, quieter, world, I’ll see more than huddled houses standing alone. For we stand as a community pulling together even when we must hold apart.
Ok, so I’m sure this doesn’t come as a surprise to most people reading this but, as the title suggests, I feel that words have power.
I know, it’s quite a well understood point but I feel it’s one we need to stop and think about every so often.. It’s certainly been one which seems to have come to mind from several places for me recently ( which appears to be becoming a common thing with my blogging ).
As I’m sure many of you know as well as I do words can cut and leave scars, they can heal and bring joy, they can give life to new possibilities and ideas and, in extreme cases, they can even cause death. Which is why I feel it’s a point worth going back to, especially in this, a time when people post advice online which can be dangerous, stupid or even malicious, and all with the safety of distance.
It is, after all, easy to say things without thinking or taking the time to be aware ( I’ll be honest, even though I ended up in an awful state due to such things, there have still been plenty of times when I’ve spoken without thought and caused hurt I would rather that I hadn’t ). It’s especially hard when you think of how much words come into our lives both in the usual form and in the symbols which express a word; every song; every voice on tv; every book or blog; every symbol on a road or emoji; even the unspoken words and harsh silences, thoughts in our minds and echoes of words long forgotten by the speaker. All these things are like ripples in our lives, having affects on others and ourselves which we may never be fully aware of.
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For me there has been a lifetime of words and actions echoing in my head, telling me I’m no good. Words I’ve spent each day learning to rise a little higher above but which still faintly cry at the back of my mind, like sirens summoning me to the jagged rocks of despair and defeat.
For others these words can be like dark whirlpools or pits of snakes, so dangerous are they. For still more there are times when they act like chains and anchors – names and titles which they want to fight desperately to rid themselves of or feel they must struggle to be worthy of.
Worse still is the fact that these colour each other no matter how far apart in time and space. A harsh word may mean nothing to you but, to someone who’s had a hundred harsh words thrown at them, it can be like a mountain of hate hitting them.
So, every time you write a word or make a sound, every action you do or expression you show, try to remember that those will leave a ripple over the lives of those they touch.
And for those out there, like me, who still feel the pain of words long gone and have it colour their lives, try to hold on to the knowledge that those words were offered without full thought or care by people who never took the time to see who you were. Because, if they had, they would have seen the bright flower inside you that was too beautiful to go trampling on.
Anyone else looking around at empty store shelves and panicking comments and remembering those disaster movies where the poor person in the wheelchair gets trampled by the mad crowd?
Now, before I go on I should clarify that, yes, this is a worrying time and we face a dangerous virus and by all means we should be concerned and want to take precautions to protect ourselves and our loved ones, after all, this thing is a killer..
That does NOT mean running around like Chicken Little claiming the sky is falling in; blaming people who look Chinese, ill or dirty; or emptying the supermarkets of items so that everyone else is left empty handed!!
I’ve seen enough white, clean shaven, healthy office types leave toilets without washing their hands to know that you can’t hold to stereotypes of where germs are spread from. In any case, while you’re busy pointing fingers you’re completely ignoring the things you could be doing to help the situation.
There’s more than just social politness in keeping your heads too. If you go round panicking how the heck do you think you’re going to be able to assess what potential hazards to avoid and which are in your head? If you go buying all the hand sanitizer does that mean your neighbour, who has none, is going to get ill and pass it on to you?
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So step back a second and think, “Yes, I’m scared but so is everyone else. How can I help make this a less scary time and make sure we all do our best to keep safe?”
That’s not underplaying the fact that there is a danger but lets be honest, we aren’t going to be safer by worrying about every breath of air and doorknob.
So, what can you do? If I’m honest your best first step is to check for saftey suggestions from both the government and your local health authorities. After all, I’m no expert. All I can do is offer a few extra thoughts..
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You could check your neighbours to see if they need any help, particularly if they’re elderly or housebound. For instance, it could be they need some shopping but the usual resources they use have run short because of panic buying.
Is it worth offering items or money to local homeless shelters? These are people who need help to get back on their feet, may have a less robust immune system and could well be in places where they’re in close proximity to hundreds of people ( which is to say that THEY are at more risk of catching and dying from this virus ). If they have access to a shelter they have access to plenty of fresh running water and are in a place where medical treatment can be called more readily which could save their lives and prevent virus spread. And just to reiterate – These are ordinary people like you and me, NOT some kind of enemy or monster
Speaking of low immune systems, I imagine you’ll probably know at least one person who’s been ill or has a bad immune system. They’re no doubt scared and could feel isolated. Any chance you have time to give them some support, make sure their store cupboards are filled and give them something to smile about?
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But those are just a few thoughts that came to mind as I asked myself, “What could other people be going through right now.” So, the best thing I can think of ( after you’ve washed your hands and followed any guidelines which come out ) is to stop and think, not just in this current situation but in any situation where you’re scared, because you never know when you might be able to help just a little by thinking and caring.
Musings of Waking in the World 