domingo, noviembre 30, 2008
jueves, noviembre 27, 2008
mmmm
so today i ordered my very own copy of the extra special box set of lovely christmas music by the magnificent sufjan stevens....if you do not have it, you should re-think that....
lunes, noviembre 24, 2008
+/-
so on the way home from fake london christmas yesterday i was thinking about how it was my worst and best fake christmas ever. i laughed more than i have before, the dinner was the best one we've ever managed and i felt honestly christmassy which was quite a feat given the earliness of it all....but i missed my boy, who at last year's faux noel was a newcomer, and who loved every minute of it...
and then while on the bus heading out through west london i was enjoying a song and grinning and tapping my toes and wishing i was driving myself in my own car so i could sing out loud to whatever it was....minutes later it was -covered in rain- on the ear-phones and i was doing the quiet-stream-crying that i have perfected during the hours of train-rides i have survived between here and the briz over the last few months.....and i realised that this is a fairly neat summary of the bizarre, other-worldly experience that grief starts you on and carries you through and semi-ruins you with...
there is simply no telling what may occur from one moment to the next. its like a very natural, hugely understandable form of something bi-polar, and i think that for me the balance weighing against the sheer devastation of it all, is the memory of his nose, his eyes, his skin, his shoulders, his children, his care for me, his speedy walking, his disehevilled appearance, his endless supply of trivial facts and his determination from day one that i was the one for him.
devastating, somehow equally....
i think that i have overcome my fear of it; i no longer panic at the ups and downs of it all. i no longer find myself gripped by the idea that it might never end. i know that it is not only unavoidable but that this mourning, this missing and this weeping is ultimately what will produce (and i think i may say tentatively, has already begun to produce..) the morning, the new skin over wound, the new scope for plans-yet-made...the new love for jesus who, it turns out, really does save....
i am still having the odd bill bryson night here and there (i read bill bryson and his tiresome, humourless anecdotes when i am unable to sleep...) but you know, advent is upon us, and you know how i adore advent...a time for expecting to hope again.....and again....and again...
and then while on the bus heading out through west london i was enjoying a song and grinning and tapping my toes and wishing i was driving myself in my own car so i could sing out loud to whatever it was....minutes later it was -covered in rain- on the ear-phones and i was doing the quiet-stream-crying that i have perfected during the hours of train-rides i have survived between here and the briz over the last few months.....and i realised that this is a fairly neat summary of the bizarre, other-worldly experience that grief starts you on and carries you through and semi-ruins you with...
there is simply no telling what may occur from one moment to the next. its like a very natural, hugely understandable form of something bi-polar, and i think that for me the balance weighing against the sheer devastation of it all, is the memory of his nose, his eyes, his skin, his shoulders, his children, his care for me, his speedy walking, his disehevilled appearance, his endless supply of trivial facts and his determination from day one that i was the one for him.
devastating, somehow equally....
i think that i have overcome my fear of it; i no longer panic at the ups and downs of it all. i no longer find myself gripped by the idea that it might never end. i know that it is not only unavoidable but that this mourning, this missing and this weeping is ultimately what will produce (and i think i may say tentatively, has already begun to produce..) the morning, the new skin over wound, the new scope for plans-yet-made...the new love for jesus who, it turns out, really does save....
i am still having the odd bill bryson night here and there (i read bill bryson and his tiresome, humourless anecdotes when i am unable to sleep...) but you know, advent is upon us, and you know how i adore advent...a time for expecting to hope again.....and again....and again...
viernes, noviembre 21, 2008
jueves, noviembre 20, 2008
public service announcement..
so pals i discovered something recently that perturbed me somewhat so i thought i would share...
when you are a user of facebook, your information can only be seen by the people you permit it to be seen by, non?
unless...
...you are listed as being part of the facebook platform.
if you are listed as being part of the facebook platform, anytime someone googles your name, the results now almost invariably start with your entry on facebook. yes that's right, members of the platform are visible as being facebook members, including network and a selction of your friend-list (including their profile pictures) to the whole world, whether they are even users of facebook or not, let alone friends of yours on facebook or not!
"what is this platform of which you speak?" i hear you ask
anytime you add one of those wretched applications, you sign up to it.
so all those uber-pokes and travel maps and sending someone a graffiti fish, - that's the platform.
get off them now or people can see you on the internet who you haven't given permission to be able to see you on the internet!
its a difficult road we tread, this information superhighway. it has many pitfalls. this i believe is one of them.
when you are a user of facebook, your information can only be seen by the people you permit it to be seen by, non?
unless...
...you are listed as being part of the facebook platform.
if you are listed as being part of the facebook platform, anytime someone googles your name, the results now almost invariably start with your entry on facebook. yes that's right, members of the platform are visible as being facebook members, including network and a selction of your friend-list (including their profile pictures) to the whole world, whether they are even users of facebook or not, let alone friends of yours on facebook or not!
"what is this platform of which you speak?" i hear you ask
anytime you add one of those wretched applications, you sign up to it.
so all those uber-pokes and travel maps and sending someone a graffiti fish, - that's the platform.
get off them now or people can see you on the internet who you haven't given permission to be able to see you on the internet!
its a difficult road we tread, this information superhighway. it has many pitfalls. this i believe is one of them.
martes, noviembre 18, 2008
sometimes
someone writes something that i find so compelling that i feel as though i am in the story, that i am the character, that the memories are mine or that i can hear, see and smell as their own fictional senses do.
other times, someone writes something, and i really do know a bit about being in that particular kind of story.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/nov/18/organ-donation-health-policy-transplant
i could not ever have described the transition from the old life to the new life any better myself...
other times, someone writes something, and i really do know a bit about being in that particular kind of story.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2008/nov/18/organ-donation-health-policy-transplant
i could not ever have described the transition from the old life to the new life any better myself...
so, weirdly:
i think today might be the first day that i have not talked about him at all..
feels funny
feels funny
sábado, noviembre 15, 2008
remarkable
so today is four months since the worst day.
and this week has been the easiest, clearest, calmest week that i have lived since that day.
leona sang this song on x-factor this evening and frankly only served to show just how bloody good the original was...
please enjoy the following snow patrol lyrics and instruct itunes to inform your reading if you are lacking -run- in your record collection....i particularly enjoy the idea that 'just for a few days' it might be this hard...
"Run"
I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak
I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads
Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
and this week has been the easiest, clearest, calmest week that i have lived since that day.
leona sang this song on x-factor this evening and frankly only served to show just how bloody good the original was...
please enjoy the following snow patrol lyrics and instruct itunes to inform your reading if you are lacking -run- in your record collection....i particularly enjoy the idea that 'just for a few days' it might be this hard...
"Run"
I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak
I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads
Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
sshhh
"Now - here is my secret
I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever acheive again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God - that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because i no longer seem capable of giving; to to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable fo kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love. "
by dear mr copeland, the final pages of -life after god-
now, can someone give me any just cause why a person would even consider writing a book, when this book makes me never even want to try, it is so whole and beautiful?!
I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever acheive again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God - that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because i no longer seem capable of giving; to to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable fo kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love. "
by dear mr copeland, the final pages of -life after god-
now, can someone give me any just cause why a person would even consider writing a book, when this book makes me never even want to try, it is so whole and beautiful?!
martes, noviembre 11, 2008
"show me some ingenuity!"
today on radio four at around mid-morning was a weekly show about 'work' and its varying wide-scale problems and pitfalls. this week's episode particularly focused on sickness and taking time out of work. the presenter exclaimed in his introductory splurge that the average number of sick-days per british employee in a given year is SEVEN, yes that's SEVEN days. he sounded truly horrified.
a lengthy discussion ensued between several guests on the programme, one of whom put forward an eloquent arguement about over-all health, and how if a person feels unhealthy on a certain day and feels sure that they would benefit from a day at home, then should this really have to be for reasons of 'sickness', bound within the confines of medicine and medication, of something quantifiable - i have a bad headcold, i have an upset stomache etc? and if it amounts to only the odd day every now and again, then this personal choice to restore and preserve oneself should be acceptable - that in fact our national concern over the need for a collective 'work ethic' is a discriminatory and largely unnecessary idea.
others argued that this is merely laziness and a distinct lack of responsibility, shirking the benefit of the majoirty in favour of the pursuit of one's most selfish desire to stay in bed, which can surely accomplish nothing and benefit no-one.
i listened intently to this debate, from the delicious warmth and comfort of my duvet, safe in the the knowledge that i believed myself to be unhealthy when i woke, late, at 7.45 this morning and made the split-second decision that i would opt out for today, that having lain awake til three am last night, i would surely accomplish nothing and benefit no-one by forcing myself to be wrenched from the rest that i had finally achieved.
i stayed in bed, friends, and i am not ashamed of it!
a lengthy discussion ensued between several guests on the programme, one of whom put forward an eloquent arguement about over-all health, and how if a person feels unhealthy on a certain day and feels sure that they would benefit from a day at home, then should this really have to be for reasons of 'sickness', bound within the confines of medicine and medication, of something quantifiable - i have a bad headcold, i have an upset stomache etc? and if it amounts to only the odd day every now and again, then this personal choice to restore and preserve oneself should be acceptable - that in fact our national concern over the need for a collective 'work ethic' is a discriminatory and largely unnecessary idea.
others argued that this is merely laziness and a distinct lack of responsibility, shirking the benefit of the majoirty in favour of the pursuit of one's most selfish desire to stay in bed, which can surely accomplish nothing and benefit no-one.
i listened intently to this debate, from the delicious warmth and comfort of my duvet, safe in the the knowledge that i believed myself to be unhealthy when i woke, late, at 7.45 this morning and made the split-second decision that i would opt out for today, that having lain awake til three am last night, i would surely accomplish nothing and benefit no-one by forcing myself to be wrenched from the rest that i had finally achieved.
i stayed in bed, friends, and i am not ashamed of it!
so...
....if a person was to be planting the very baby-sized seeds of an idea about writing a book that would aim to maybe lessen the culturally-engrained fear of grief, and to attempt to add to the journey of grief in a beneficial way, what would that person call the book? any ideas...?
lunes, noviembre 10, 2008
the threefold heart command..
so for the last three years or so, i have had a piece of green card stuck to my bedroom wall...the dream wall, if you will (if you are a maine road ex-resident..).....written on it in my artistic (ha, read illegible!) scrawl is a note-to-self, in black pencil, that reads as follows...
rend your heart
risk your heart
guard your heart
except on the card it has a big heart drawn on the right-hand side, which therefore it neatly substitutes the word 'heart' in each line, and until SOMEONE freaking invents a -heart- symbol on computer keyboards (as per the simon amstell-related petition on here many moons ago!) you will have to have the out-moded written version on here, and just picture the real-life version in your head...
i think that i could scarcely have imagined when i wrote that note-to-self and pinned it up above the fireplace, just how painful, how exhilarating or how constantly-challenging each of these three instructions from the bible would turn out, respectively, to be.
the rending speaks for itself. i have lost my bear of a man, his magnificent nose and his ever-loving heart, only weeks after we had agreed that we would one day soon get married. you have, i feel sure, read enough to make you weep over your cup of coffee (or all of a friday evening if you're sal) on here in recent weeks, and for that companionship on this particular journey i thank thee.
the risking was learnt in the build-up, in The Single Years - the now infamous valentines endeavour, the depth of attraction and attachment i allowed myself to feel to boy after boy who could not or would not return my attentions.....but the risk continued unabated, and jesus walked me through each and every one of these crashes and i learnt, ever surer, that i had been given a capacity for love and for loyalty and for passion that would one day represent one half of a grown-up relationship. i found faith in myself through these ups and downs, and faith in the notion that love, once chosen by both, would ultimately be one of the greatest additions to my already rather happy life......as you will recall, it was then the risk of sending that first text to the boy after nick's wedding, that resulted in me having him all to myself (notwithstanding his bright, hilarious and loving children!) on short term loan.....
the guarded heart still somewhat eludes me but i think that in all my miss-haversham-related musings over these last four months, i have begun to see that a guard that is generated by wisdom and not by fear, bitterness or reticence (sp?) is really a very precious thing.
i appear to have run out of words, for now. i realise this post is lacking in a conclusion. it might come to me, but i'm hoping sleep gets here first...night loves...x
rend your heart
risk your heart
guard your heart
except on the card it has a big heart drawn on the right-hand side, which therefore it neatly substitutes the word 'heart' in each line, and until SOMEONE freaking invents a -heart- symbol on computer keyboards (as per the simon amstell-related petition on here many moons ago!) you will have to have the out-moded written version on here, and just picture the real-life version in your head...
i think that i could scarcely have imagined when i wrote that note-to-self and pinned it up above the fireplace, just how painful, how exhilarating or how constantly-challenging each of these three instructions from the bible would turn out, respectively, to be.
the rending speaks for itself. i have lost my bear of a man, his magnificent nose and his ever-loving heart, only weeks after we had agreed that we would one day soon get married. you have, i feel sure, read enough to make you weep over your cup of coffee (or all of a friday evening if you're sal) on here in recent weeks, and for that companionship on this particular journey i thank thee.
the risking was learnt in the build-up, in The Single Years - the now infamous valentines endeavour, the depth of attraction and attachment i allowed myself to feel to boy after boy who could not or would not return my attentions.....but the risk continued unabated, and jesus walked me through each and every one of these crashes and i learnt, ever surer, that i had been given a capacity for love and for loyalty and for passion that would one day represent one half of a grown-up relationship. i found faith in myself through these ups and downs, and faith in the notion that love, once chosen by both, would ultimately be one of the greatest additions to my already rather happy life......as you will recall, it was then the risk of sending that first text to the boy after nick's wedding, that resulted in me having him all to myself (notwithstanding his bright, hilarious and loving children!) on short term loan.....
the guarded heart still somewhat eludes me but i think that in all my miss-haversham-related musings over these last four months, i have begun to see that a guard that is generated by wisdom and not by fear, bitterness or reticence (sp?) is really a very precious thing.
i appear to have run out of words, for now. i realise this post is lacking in a conclusion. it might come to me, but i'm hoping sleep gets here first...night loves...x
the promise that love's still here
Lately, lately I've seen you in your dream
Lost in a clouded mind
Held down by all of the things that seem so real
The world you can't leave behind
You've made all of the money you could spend
You're begging for something more
Behind the prison you call your home my friends
The light in the endless dark
Lately, you've followed your fears under the bed
And fell for a hundred years
Into the arms of a wounded melody
The promise that love's still here
You held a cynical world like God's bruised fruit
Chopped from a sacred tree
It's us, the enemy we fought all these years
The stories of you and me
So we hurry, go faster and faster to find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sweetest view
There's a buzz like a lightbulb up to our ears
Promise that love's still here
Retrace the steps in the snow to find your friend
'Cause childhood melts so fast
Big dreams, the future you taste on summer's time
Having it just won't last
Right here, we've all got the answer in our heart
If we could just let that go
Lifetimes of beautiful sunday church bell girls
The junkies upon the floor
So we hurry, go faster and faster to find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sweetest view
We could argue forever and never be clear
Promise that love's still here
If forever and ever and ever we find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sacred view
There's a buzz like a lightbulb up to our ears
Promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
-nitin sawhney, fyi...
Lost in a clouded mind
Held down by all of the things that seem so real
The world you can't leave behind
You've made all of the money you could spend
You're begging for something more
Behind the prison you call your home my friends
The light in the endless dark
Lately, you've followed your fears under the bed
And fell for a hundred years
Into the arms of a wounded melody
The promise that love's still here
You held a cynical world like God's bruised fruit
Chopped from a sacred tree
It's us, the enemy we fought all these years
The stories of you and me
So we hurry, go faster and faster to find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sweetest view
There's a buzz like a lightbulb up to our ears
Promise that love's still here
Retrace the steps in the snow to find your friend
'Cause childhood melts so fast
Big dreams, the future you taste on summer's time
Having it just won't last
Right here, we've all got the answer in our heart
If we could just let that go
Lifetimes of beautiful sunday church bell girls
The junkies upon the floor
So we hurry, go faster and faster to find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sweetest view
We could argue forever and never be clear
Promise that love's still here
If forever and ever and ever we find that we've ran our whole life
Forgoing the sacred view
There's a buzz like a lightbulb up to our ears
Promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
The promise that love's still here
-nitin sawhney, fyi...
domingo, noviembre 09, 2008
miércoles, noviembre 05, 2008
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