April 2019

April 29, 2019

Telling the truth about life

, , , 2 Comments

Telling the truth about life

People think I’m very funny because I’ve got used to telling the truth about life. “Oh, how drole, how very amusing!” they chortle, trying not to choke on their tea, their coffee or their biscuit crumbs.

It’s easy, really. More often than not, I say what other people are thinking. I blurt out the “one stupid question” that no-one wants to ask for fear of looking idiotic. All things considered, I have little to lose, so I think of truth-telling as my partypiece: my secret weapon.

It was my father who first started me thinking about the value of this. During a visit abroad, as he was happily relating tales of his adventures, he confessed that it could be very tricky using humour to brighten the mood at a dinner party. Humour, it turns out, is a remarkably local affair – I may understand irony, family humour, but the neighbours will probably consider the same joke unduly forward and rather rude: what might be amusing to the French ambassador sitting on dad’s right, might deeply embarrass the Lithuanian consul seated on his left… Difficulties with language and the communication of small subtleties can proliferate alarmingly.

“So, what do you do?” I asked wonderingly. (Sometimes my naivete astounds me.)

“Well,” he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, “I just tell a story against myself. It could be anything. I might have told the cook I wanted salad for supper, not salami, or I might have dropped my glass of wine. Whatever it is, I just make it amusing and everyone laughs. We are all very entertained and the joke is on me, so my problem is solved. No more international misunderstandings. Very important, you see….”

While I marvelled at my father’s dedication to his job, even to the extent of putting himself forward so that everyone might laugh at his antics, gentle humour is indeed a wonderful way to disarm unkindness. If we make ourselves look a bit daft, our friends will probably feel more comfortable telling us about their mistakes too.

It was my father whom I thought of, when I had the wonderful idea to take twenty years of hard knocks and turn them into stories that might entertain. For the most part, I can and often do gleam something worthwhile from what I used to think of as my wasted years, by telling the truth and laughing about it.

Please share:

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblrFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblr

April 22, 2019

On a still bright morning

, 4 Comments

On a still bright morning

On a still bright morning after a weekend of sunlight and warmth, roused early as my better half leaves for his first day back at work after the Easter holiday, I put on a load of laundry and spend time dawdling outdoors on the front step, in the full glare of welcome sunlight. As I watch people slamming into cars and driving away, or arriving home with armfuls of shopping, I reflect, how little time any of us spends outside these days.

Certainly, we travel, but usually that is to or from the shops or work, in a car or a bus. Rarely do any of us actually spend time outdoors. And I do wonder what that means for us. We have, after all, evolved to live outside, and I know that when I catch sunlight, my mood and my energy improve. As I carry recycling outside to the collection point, I linger and marvel at my good fortune on a day like today…

While negotiating our high front step and smiling into the low sun, I twist my knee rather painfully, which takes me by surprise. Then, noticing what I’m doing wrong and making the effort for small changes – so that I sit down carefully with my feet and legs set out straight in front of me instead of twisted to the side – is important because when we have to manage a disability, we are already working at the outside limits of what most bodies can tolerate.

I’m lucky that I have the time to notice what I’m doing wrong, and how I can improve things so that my right knee, which still carries more than its fair share of my weight, will have a chance to recover. Our bodies, like our minds, recover more quickly when allowed to keep moving, so that is what I hope to do, and still aim for.

Please share:

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblrFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblr

April 5, 2019

Easter Holidays

, 2 Comments

Easter Holidays


It’s the Easter holidays, and I’m taking a rest for a couple of weeks, to be with family and enjoy time off with them. No dramatic trips planned to far-flung destinations, but perhaps a few days “here and there” as hubby likes to say.

For whatever reason, I seem to have had a cold or a sniffle for several months, which I can only attribute to being chronically tired. So I shall take my chance to rest fully, and only visit my blog and social media occasionally.

I used to resist holiday times, thinking, “Darn it, now I’ll have to work twice as hard,” but that is to miss major opportunities to have fun and relax. I have been that woman who has been given a gift, only to look past it and think, “If only I could have that one over there, instead. The one I can’t reach, the one I’m always running to catch up to…”

No more. From now on, I thank goodness for all the gifts that comes my way, noticing how much easier it is to decide, and then allow life to provide.

I was on a train journey, and thought, “I would really love a drink”. Immediately, along came the drinks trolley from which I was served a large cup of hot water. Then, when I had finished it, I thought, “I would really like a dustbin for my empty cup,” and along came another server with a large bag for collecting rubbish. Arriving back at the train station after a long day, I was thought, “I would really love a lift home,” and a friend was there, waiting to collect another friend, and she offered me a lift home!

I really enjoy watching how this process plays out. It seems to work best when I make my request, and then let it go out and come back to me.

This Easter I would like us all to have a peaceful time filled with blessings, joy and laughter.

Thanks for reading and for all your generous support.

Please share:

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblrFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblr

April 3, 2019

I got my mojo back

, 4 Comments

I got my mojo back

I got my mojo back after reading another page of A Course in Miracles.

Which reminds me – again – that the mind never sleeps and that there is no such thing as an idle thought. Since the mind is always working, and since it cannot stop working, it might be a good idea to use mind energy more productively, to help myself. Now, there’s a novel idea.

For sure, we can and often do use our thoughts, our brain-power, destructively. But it turns out to be surprisingly easy, and diverting, to use it for lighter purposes – to be relaxed, happy, to have fun and be immersed – however briefly – in the joy of something new and pleasing.

It turns out there is always something more enjoyable I can turn my sights to: a colourful sky, a nice piece of fruit, a fluffy guinea-pig squeaking for attention, a piece of music that makes me fizz with excitement… And, perhaps when I can’t raise a smile, I should maybe just accept that I’m exhausted and would love to sleep for a while. How many times have we berated ourselves and felt bad because we are simply tired? I wonder about that.

I discover it is remarkably easy to be happy. But I’ve got used, as I suspect many of us have, to supposing that I ‘have’ to get upset when I read awful things in the news. In fact, it is possible to sympathise deeply and genuinely without joining in the suffering by feeling bad. A liberating discovery.

Thanks so much for listening.

Please share:

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblrFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblr

April 1, 2019

If I can’t say no

, , , 10 Comments

If I can’t say no

I have a hard time saying no. I don’t want to disappoint people, so I make myself unhappy. Right? Wrong!

Reading books I don’t like, for example, that’s a big one. But honestly, how hard can it be? Read the book, post a review – or not – and that’s that. Except that it takes another several hours out of life – my life – reading another book I don’t especially want to. And it’s become another bad habit.

I’m not a book reviewer, though of course I delight in reviewing books I love. I would want to do that in any case, knowing how much I welcome reviews from supportive readers. (I welcome reviews from unsupportive readers too, but that is another story.) And generally, though I welcome reviews, I very rarely solicit them, as I feel that a book out in the public fends for itself, by and large.

But, partly because of my intensive stint of work on Authonomy, I’ve had to relearn how to read books for sheer pleasure, separating editing and critique from what I am reading for enjoyment, as far as I can. A process which has taken a few years – far longer than I expected it to.

So, of course, I should say NO to books that I don’t want to read, without having to list the reasons why not, or justify my choice to myself. Since the reasons are only for me and my conscience…

After all the hard work and the heartache to reach this day, if I can’t say No to what I don’t want, what has been the point of all my previous introspection and soul-searching? Saying No is absolutely key to getting around, finally, to doing what I want to do. Which, since it take effort and time, I deserve to prioritise.

It is not a mistake or a failure to lay aside a job that makes me feel heavy. It is, in fact, the way in which to make a happier, more soothing life, in which I find myself being kinder to myself and other people too. What’s not to like?

Please share:

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblrFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedintumblr