On Trust

The last few weeks have been so busy that I have not had time to compose myself enough to blog; which is too bad since a lot has happened that will now be lost in the black hole in my memory. Actually my memory is so bad (and I know I should not confess such a negative thing) that I think one of the reasons I tell so many stories about what I am thinking and doing so that the people I tell can remember for me.. One of my closest friends remembers stuff so much better than me that that she sometimes has to convince me that this stuff really happened to me, recreating the setting and time and everything to aid my remembrance!!

Anyway.

Today I was forced out of my semi-retirement because of something that I learnt about myself this weekend - it really shook me to the bones.

So. It is like this. I know a good man. I have known him for five years. Apart from the first three months after we met, we’ve lived in different countries during this time. However, we have managed to keep in regular contact (mostly through his effort really). We have spent maybe ten days together during two different periods in the time we have been apart. Now, from the moment we met, we both knew that ours was no ordinary friendship, and that but for the lack of opportunity, we would definitely have dated. During the 10 days or so that we have spent together (mostly on holiday), we have found that we really like one another. We have discussed possibilities of dating but neither of us is able to move, nor can either of us handle long distance dating. We have decided to continue to be in touch while we see how things develop, but we are essentially free to date other people.

Now.

He has recently expressed a desire to see me in person during his Summer Break this year, and is looking into visiting with me in my country (although this is not definite yet). These plans have revived in me the question of where the two of us are going, especially in light of the view that every time we part after one of these visits we are plunged into paroxysms of longing and despair! (at least I am!). As such, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to ask only to come if he sees a future for our relationship. He said ok, he’d put this into consideration. We had a long talk about it and exchanged a few lovey dovey sms (we do this despite our ‘friends’ staus). Around that time, he took a few days replying an inane sms that I sent him and when he finally responded I completely flew off the handle. I told him that if he could not take 1 or 10 or even 30 minutes out of his day to respond to text (he says e-mail and text take him ages to compose), then I did not want the ‘free time’ that he was going to bestow on me during his Summer Break either. (Plus a host of other stuff ranting around the same theme - his not having time for me.)

He smsd to say he was sorry he had not replied my sms earlier but that all the same my sms made him out to be more evil than he was., finishing with a promise to write me an e-mail later. Later that night he sent me another sms saying he’d sent the e-mail but that as I read it, I should remember how much he liked me.

WOW! The Panic that set in!! Let me preface this by saying that this is one of the most patient men I know. I have pulled stunts that would un-horse a lesser man, but this man stays constant in his affection and commitment (to staying in my life, if only in a friendly capacity). So, that he would send me an sms to ask me to keep an eye on how much he likes me as I read this e-mail convinced me that he had finally had enough and was going to cut ties!

Since it was too late to go out to look for an internet café that was open, I had to wait until the morrow but let me tell you: I passed a night like none I have ever known before! The torture!! Of course it became crystal clear that I wanted this man and I to have another chance – or shall I say a chance? In truth we have never really had this. Here he was willing to come all the way to Africa to visit and I throw his offering in his face. I considered all the ways in which he and I get along, the many great conversations that we have had, the two great holidays, and I knew I was not ready to let him go.

The next day I lingered in bed, dreading the moment of truth. The need to ppe tried to push me out of bed but I resisted until my bladder was near bursting. I could sense the sunlight behind my closed eyelids and knew it was well into mid-morning. Still I resisted. Finally the pressure to pee became too great and I had to go - so opening my eyes to slits, I felt my way to the bathroom, and returned straight back to bed. After some minutes lying immobile in my bed, I realised the futility of my actions and decided to just get up and go and face the music.

SO. He told me he was really insulted that knowing how busy he is I would say that was only coming to see me because he had ‘time on his hands’ That he really understood I was disappointed about his late reply, but that he had wanted to include some info on his proposed trip in his reply, and this info had been so long in coming and he had ended up smsing without it anyway. That this not withstanding, he knew and I knew that our underlying disagreement was my wish to have ‘all or nothing’, while he could not in all honesty promise anything before he got his Medical Training over with. He really wished we could still be friends because really he had never met anyone like me. All the women he met simply did not measure up to me either. Moreover, he was afraid that he might one day regret it but he is simply not in a position to just say: LETS DO IT! This said, he wanted me to be happy, and he respected my feelings. He finished by saying he still wanted to come see me if I let him, and that he really wished we would still be friends.

Anyway, the short of it is that I felt such relief that I fairly burst into tears!! I could not believe I had gotten another chance. He said he had been really hurt by my remarks and that he hoped I would apologise for them, so I just wrote back to him apologising for my hurtful remarks and telling him was more than welcome to visit.

So. What did this incident teach me?

Well, first, let me tell you about this man. If you ask me on my sober days, I will tell you that I have not the slightest doubt about the depth of feeling this man has for me. He shows it in ways too many to count. He respects, admires and delights in me. I can describe in glowing detail all the things we have in common, and tell you about the countless hours we have spent on the phone sharing our lives across the ocean. I will tell you the strong attraction that we have between us and how the very blood in my veins boils if his fingers so much as brush my arm!

So why do I attempt, again and again, to push him away? This weekend it came to me clear as a bell. I think I am just really AFRAID to risk my heart! Hmm... I know this sounds obvious. Cliché. Too simple perhaps. However, I think it is completely true. I mean, one would think that the natural response to such steadfast affection should be to receive it, not to reject it. I am unable to simply believe that someone wants to continue calling me, to visit me, and to share his life with me, even when things don’t seem so defined between us. Before I can risk my affections further (by enjoying another holiday with him) I want reassurance that there is a future, that he would move mountains to be with me, give up his ambitions, do what he needed to do, to be with me. This is really unfair I think. If anything, I have much more flexibility on the moving front since I have been admitted to two Universities in Europe for my PhD, one of which is in his country. Of course I would not move just to be near him, but the fact is that it is completely impractical for him to move anywhere – he still has a couple of years left of his Medical Training, and realising this, he knows he cannot promise anything. All the same he is willing to invest in something that doesn’t seem to have much promise, by travelling here to spend his holidays with me. Knowing how I feel about him, why don’t I go with it until such a time as we run out of options? It is true this is a path that is fraught with danger, but after all, so is dating anyone. I can take comfort in the fact that I a have not put all my eggs in that basket (and would be unwise to do so) since I still accept men’s invitations to date. It is too bad that none of these dates has progressed beyond the first or second date, but maybe one of these days one will. In the meantime, why don’t I view this as yet another date, and relax into it?

I think that what I have learnt most of all is to allow relationships to unfold at their own pace – I can only live my best life in the meantime. I should quit trying to control things, and while admitting my desire to be in a loving relationship, have the faith that love will come to me, and that it will come to stay.

MADLY, DEEPLY, TRULY

(Not in Love, unfortunately)

No. Madly, Deeply, Truly - Unsatisfied? Unplugged? Out of sync? Dare I say it – Unhappy? I really can’t believe I dare say it (although I have said it) - for fear that it might actually come to pass! But perhaps I just have to face it, rather than hide from it..

So what has brought this on?

Well, it has probably been a long time a-cooking… This year was one year longer than I should have been where I am now. The whole year has actually been characterised by a pervasive longing to be elsewhere. The Buddhists say that desire is the root of all suffering, you know, wishing that things were different. BUT: (and I have said this before) how can one live without desire? It is all very well (and probably much more peaceful) to accept things as they are and declare them good and as they should be – however, and maybe it is a sign of severe spiritual paucity, I just cannot help my self!

My plight is not helped by recent warm communications with a man that I really like but that is far from me; or by the news that I can repair to a world class University anytime from now to start a PhD if I can find the money; or the glaring fact that these employers of mine hope to keep me in this (loathed!) position for the next two years – of course they cannot force me, but while they asked me nicely to ‘act’ for six months while they look for a ‘substantive’ replacement, they are clearly doing nothing of the sort. Leaving them in a lurch will look unprofessional, and I will end up looking like the bad guy!

Moreover, it is not as if I even have where to go with all my threatening to leave! This is an even more depressing thought because it shows how low my faith is of late!! Especially compared to earlier in the year: I had a chance to change jobs then… I went to the interview full of optimism, presented myself in my full glory, but was careful to tell nothing but the truth about my current aspirations – which included plans to pursue my PhD in the very near future. I suspected that this revelation might hurt my chances but I had no qualms admitting it (and anyway I would have been mis-representing myself) – now that was faith talking!! I wonder if I am not now losing all hope just as the light of dawn peeps over the horizon!

But anyway, what is the way forward, besides and beyond this ranting?

Possibly:

Try and keep the faith. Hold on. Keep praying. Keep hoping.

Or

Change direction slightly. There is a new opportunity at work that would tie in very well with the subject of my PhD study – it would involve me being responsible for the quality assurance of programs within the University, an initiative funded by the German Government, and for which position I only have one competitor currently. It would also be in line with a proposal that I made the University a year ago in which I tried to get them to change my duties so that my work would better match my skills and aspirations – as I said, I have been in a place that I have not wanted to be this whole academic year!! Receipt of that proposal was acknowledged but nothing was really done about it. Maybe I should revive it together with my bid to be the quality assurance person. The only fly in that ointment is the fact that I would have to work under the MOST difficult individual in the University – but I think I am equal to the task – all his attempts to bully me in our previous encounters have met with my most charming but determined resistance!! And anyway, I have already been working with the second most difficult in the University so! J

Hmmm.

What to do?

All this of course is not helped by the fact that I am in the middle of end of semester marking – good GOD but it is gruelling!! On the other hand it has been the source of serious self motivating efforts, for which I can pat myself on the back – I really had to put some emotional intelligence to work Monday morning!! Proof that every cloud has a silver lining!

And another thing:

All my friends at work have left – even the residential hottie that I have been flirting with is hot-footing it out of here tomorrow!! Ah well. Better call on some more of that emotional intelligence and pick myself up. As for resolving my dilemma, I have decided – tentatively – that I will go ahead and renew my proposal from last year together with making the bid for quality assurance person, and if this yields nothing, then I will really have to think about leaving all together!! I cannot put myself through another year of this misery!! At the same time of course, I will hold on to the faith – this proposal actually fits perfectly with the PhD program, especially if I follow the sandwich model, which model will also put me in the same town as my far away love – if only the money for this PhD could show up!! L Or rather – it WILL show up J

P.S. Is this me trying to hold on to BOTH possibilities at once? Sigh……

SO, WHAT'S UP?

This evening, I took a mat and sat on my veranda and tried to face my current dis-ease. I feel all confused. Now this has become of great concern because although I have moments of respite, I have really been unable to shake this feeling for the last month or so – since just after Easter actually. It is said that all negative emotions – anger, confusion, depression, etc., are signs that one is out of alignment, and today I finally have to ask myself the question:

‘What’s up?’

The signs of this dis-ease: I catch myself frowning more often than smiling (although I have frowned since babyhood - so maybe that shouldn’t alarm me – or was I confused then too?); my face is breaking up more than usual, I have put on weight, the other day I had a bout of manic eating that left me holding my stomach in an anguish of painful indigestion, and then other days I’m off my food! Plus I am passing these great amounts of really foul gas!! Isn’t this proof that systems are broken? Although it could also be the half kilo of lamb that I ate earlier this week – at two sittings granted but still.

Today I sat at my desk failing to decide what to have for lunch, until I was so hungry I rushed home and begun to throw things into a bowl and mash them – in went that over ripe avocado that I had been wondering what to do with, then the idea came to me to make guacamole, so I cut up the onions and the tomatoes, balked at the garlic, threw in some left over sardines, grated some cheese into it, salt and pepper, tasted, didn’t taste right but couldn’t figure out why, I added some lemon, still not right but eh! - ate it anyway. Made some coffee with milk and ate two cookies. Then lay down and 20 minutes later began to roll around on my bed with a terrific stomach ache, and a nausea so powerful it had me holding my nose away from my clothes because they just made me want to throw up! Infact my whole house smelled – of onion peelings and stale cooking oil and other unidentifiable smells.. As I sit here, my prospects for dinner don’t look so great either – I made this vegetable juice yesterday with celery and parsley and carrots that is just plain nasty!! But it sounds so healthy that I am thinking maybe I will take it with some yogurt? Or lace it with gin. Or both! J Although, God knows I don’t think I should try to bury all this under alcohol – and anyway, alcohol always makes me feel even worse.

Something is not right. Obviously.

I know it all has to do with what I need to be doing to follow my dreams. Some beliefs say that everything is as it should be, and is already perfect (would that be the Buddhists?). Soon after I left Uni I learnt what I think was a valuable and enduring lesson – suffering is good for me – it paves the way for change. On the other hand, if I understand them correctly, the Buddhists say we cause our own suffering, and that suffering arises out of desire – but how to live without desire? I don’t remember if there is such a thing as ‘good desire’, I think all desire is supposed to be detrimental! Anyway - enough holding forth on my half knowledge of Buddhism – to more practical matters…

What do I really want?? What will make me happy? (How is that for practical?) The eternal quest for happiness seems to have me in a stranglehold! My Christian friends might say to me that I am floundering in this fashion as a direct result of having left the straight and narrow – ok, I’m willing to consider this, but let’s put that possibility to one side for the moment. A recurring thought in the past year or so is the fact that my job no longer satisfies me. And then, there are things I love to do, that I don’t do enough of (such as travel, immerse myself in new cultures, get answers to big questions, etc.) All this dissatisfaction is compounded by the fact that my only two friends have left the University and yet my general beliefs and culture have tended to isolate me; the only other person I could halfway talk to has a girlfriend who treats me with high suspicion.

How do you like the pity party so far?

The one shinning thing in my life at the moment is my reading!! That really does it for me.

A few posts back I signed off saying that I should go and figure out what I want – I am afraid I have not made any big strides in that direction, so I am forced to come to a point where I have decided that I should take up serious prayer again – the bible says that we do not know what we should pray about, but the Spirit itself intercedes on our behalf with groans that words cannot express. Maybe I should literally cry out to God, prostrate myself before him, roll on the floor if necessary – maybe sit in sackcloth and ashes outside my office (J that would be quite a sight!) One way or another this has got to end!!

This business with the Dutchman also does not help matters. The man continues to call, but says nothing in effect. And I am really able to just let him come to his own decision on this (wonder of wonders!), but in the meantime this upsets my equilibrium – I just wish he could work out his side of the issue without having to speak to me at all! The area of relationships is another one that I know I should decide on what kind of companion I need and just let God pick him out!! I think I am still secretly hanging on to this man – good though he may be.

So anyway, I am sitting here in quiet, feeling a little relieved after thinking these things through (I seem to think much better when I am writing – talking?), but I still feel as though I am not arriving at a concrete decision. At this point I need to remind myself that I should allow myself to be present in the chaos, and know that out of the chaos always emerges a perfect solution. Not only that, things are as they should be, and I should allow myself to suffer needlessly – it is just that I do not yet see – but soon I shall – let me hold on to that.

WRITING, PRAYING, AGAIN...

So, I just came from reading the book by Elizabeth Gilbert called ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ – she ate in Italy, prayed in India and found Love (and balance) in Bali. I have to admit I started out not being too thrilled by this book – I found the author tended to use language that was too expressive so that one felt she was trying too hard – not to say that her analogies were not very vivid or interesting or funny, or that her expressions were out of place – it is just that they were a wee bit overdone. I myself prefer the understatement of things, the stealthy coming upon me of facts, events, meanings.. so that page after page I am subtly drawn into the tale without my even noticing it.

ANYWAY.

I guess just like meeting someone that you doubt you are going to like at first, some people grow on one, and before you know it, they are playing a pivotal role in your life!! I eventually began to relate to the author because we share a love for travel and food! In addition to that was her search for God, for balance, for love – for love and acceptance of self above all. For contentment. Peace. At one point I also recognised my tendency to yap because boy can this author yap! It brought me face to face with my own inability to be silent (she found this particularly hard as well) as I recalled this very past weekend. There are these people who make the journey from the city to travel the 80 odd km to our University every other Sunday, and I often travel along with them. Now what happens is that I find myself telling story after story or commenting on the scenery or sharing my profound insights into life!! Every passing car reminds me of this or the other incident, every song that plays on the car radio has a story to it. Sometimes after I have told a particularly long anecdote, silence will descend upon us and I will realise that I have been ranting on about a not particularly exciting story about people none of them know for the last 15 minutes. As I read the book I recalled catching myself repeatedly interrupting guys in the car this past weekend. And it is not even that I am uncomfortable with silence (I answered that question long ago), I think I am just starved for conversation with like minded people, which is why I should realise that interrupting them and hogging all the attention is hardly the way to get them to keep asking me to ride with them. Case in point:

I was telling this story about a woman who had gotten married the previous weekend – I should say here that I heard this story third or fourth hand and I have told it to three or four different parties – I fear with slight adjustments for effect every time. Anyway, the bride to be admitted to her girlfriends at her bridal shower that her fiancé was not the least bit romantic, but that she had learned to live with it. My friends went on to tell me they proved this by the fact that the man did not crack a single smile the entire day of his wedding, failing to crack even under the continuous teasing and cajoling of the MC and everyone who took the mic besides, not even the photographers were able to put a dent in his armour, I’d like to think that even the celebrant would have had no luck if he tried (I might have reported the celebrant bit as though it really happened). Anyway, I point out that this is not to say, in my opinion, that not smiling = not romantic but anyway, my friends took this as evidence. Further evidence that their friend was really in trouble though came with the groom’s speech: he told his friends that they were now welcome to visit any time because at last he had a real home and someone to cook and clean – my friends SWORE this was true!! Apparently one of them rang the happy bride the day after the wedding to see that she was well rested etc. and found her en-route to the shops to get spices for a goat that her in-laws had given them at the wedding that was going down that day!

Now, in the middle of telling this story, one of my listeners interjects to say that all this business of being ‘romantic’ was over rated and misunderstood. He took a breath to expound and I jumped in there: ‘of course romance is misunderstood (I did not want to be caught thinking otherwise – I actually think many girls put too much emphasis on ‘romantic’ as a trait and ignore more important characteristics, but surely I could have let the man finish his thought!! I was fully aware that I didn’t want him finishing before I said my bit because I didn’t want him thinking I thought being romantic was a big deal (I do think it isn’t the end all and be all). However this is evidence of my general fighting for acceptance (?), or something like that. Anyway I prattled on about how it was more important for a future spouse be considerate, caring, loving, committed, helpful, etc., and that a lot of girls were too easily swept off their feet by flowers and chocolate and sweet nothings, which some sharp men were using to great advantage more and more these days, and on and on and I pontificated!! My poor listener had to leave the floor.

All this to say: I really related to the writer of the book on the issue of being unable to be silent, and even attempted some meditation after I finished reading the book. I am sorry to report that my mind simply refused to be quieted! Mediation has never been easy I have to admit. It could be a residual fear from the time I was Christian when it was said that meditation and emptying one’s mind was opening a gateway for demons or evil spirits.. Or it could be that my mind is teeming with so many thoughts all the time that that I should not try to suppress – instead I should let them out – like I am doing now writing this down. I don’t know. Anyway during my so-called meditation, I suddenly hit on the bright idea to come sit at my computer and write as a think – in the past I have actually felt that writing was for me a way to pray, to clear my mind, to think things through, to attain realisation – or whatever. So here I am.

Someone just passed my window cryig put about how hungry she is – she reminded me of a super skinny roommate of mine at Uni who woke up everyday and ate nothing at all all day. By mid morning she would have started: ‘You guys, I am soooo famished’. as the day wore on, this began to sound like a lament – like she was praying or something. Keening – that is the word. By evening, looking like she could fade right away, she would finally nibble on a piece of bread, and the cycle would begin all over again the next day. Automatically I turn to my workmates to share this little tidbit, but I suppress the impulse. I really have my work cut out for me!!

I tell myself to just sit quietly. To reflect. Think. Be.

Another voice says: why are you trying so hard to be someone else??

A third voice says: everything is as it should be.

Things are tight!

OH MOTIVATION – WHERE ART THOU?

So here I am on a Monday morning, searching high and low for that elusive quantity called motivation. The author of the book ‘Emotional Intelligence’ says that we are all capable of influencing our emotions simply by exerting our will. On Sunday (yesterday) a cousin of mine asked me what the week ahead looked like, and I replied with such despondency she just had to shake her head. Basically I felt ZERO motivation to do anything – this could be I had put off all the most unpleasant tasks until this week, or maybe it is more of the general attitude I have towards my job these days – feeling like I need to effect a change.

Another possible problem could be the stalling of my looooong standing plans to start my own consultancy – I have prepared, designed, visualised, proclaimed, name it! But I am yet to make the step to contact a single school!! I even went through a period of dreaming I was pregnant for a couple of months, then one day I dreamt that I had miscarried!! :-/ Anyway, last week this speaker came to my school to speak to students on career guidance and brought up all my old frustrations with myself. Observing how poorly he did the job, I thought about how much better I could do it and yet here I was sitting around on my behind doing nothing!!! And THEN griping about lacking the motivation to do the work that I have chosen to hang on to doing!!

Last week things got so bad that I visited Susan Miller over at astrologyzone.com, a year or so after I threw her out. I have to say that I treat Astrology with serious scepticism since I can not figure out how or even IF it works, but Susan Miller gets so eerily accurate sometimes that I give her special consideration!! So, she says that Virgos in April are in rather turbulent times – things seem all uphill and no end in sight, and this has been and will continue to be the case for some 9 or 10 months for each of us! Apparently this is because Uranus, the great Innovator, and Saturn, the ruler of personal growth and commitments are both eclipsing the Sun in Virgo at the moment and shinning their rays directly at us. Saturn in particular is supposed to be a task master and will not let one off the hook easily, so only the most stubborn individuals will fail to turn their lives around during this time; all this to say that I really have to be serious and respond to the calling on my life.

ANYWAY.

I was saying. I need to motivate myself. Nothing will move forward and nothing will get done if I don’t motivate myself to put in the work. The way I see it, the sooner this work is done and my desk is cleared, the sooner I will feel free of the obligations that are weighing me down at the moment!!

Sigh…

A good place to start is to reflect on something great that I have been doing of late, and that is making these large salads. I find that they help me maintain energy through the day, esp. if I eat them for lunch, as opposed to some of my past starchy lunches that tended to send me to sleep! So now, I just came from eating my latest creation - it contains: Lettuce, Carrots, Green peppers, Onions, Tomatoes, Raisins, Avocado, Feta, Salt and Pepper and French dressing - DIVINE! Although I might skip the lettuce next time, it tends to wilt after a few hours. For instance I made this salad last night (had it for supper too), but by today lunchtime all the lettuce had wilted, whereas all the other vegetables were still nice and springy! I realise such a sald doe not require high art, but I hope this is start of many more to come - so far I am only following the advice of a friend of mine who said:
'Salads are really easy to make - all you have to do is throw in everything that you feel like eating' - although ofcourse I didn't take that literally.. I don't throw in everything..

ANTSY

I wonder if the infestation of ants in my house is a metaphor for my life; I had a long conversation with a friend of mine last night and he commented that restlessness has been an enduring theme in my life for the last few years. According to him, every time we speak (which 3 or 4 times a year on average) I am spoiling for a change of scene. I think I have been able to curb this problem by organising to travel quite often, and when such an opportunity passed me by (Barcelona which was supposed to be next week) my old antsyness reared its head again.
But first a little about these ten(ants) of mine: I moved into this apartment over a year ago, and was immediately accosted by armies of ants getting into every thing! Nothing was spared!! Bread, butter, cooking oil, drinking water (!) name it.. If I left a glass of wine by my bedside overnight there they were all over it by morning. Once I left a dirty plate on the dining table and the ants were all over it within an hour!! It is as if there are eggs ready to hatch out the very air of my house at any moment. One long weekend the tap in my bathroom sprang a small leak and water collected around it – our water pipes are a little rusty so the water is brownish when you first turn it on. When I got back, the water had evaporated somewhat to leave a congealed rusty deposit, and there I found ants busy – drinking ? – the rust. (Maybe that is why they are also always in my drinking water). Since then, there is constant trail of them going up into the hot water tank and I frequently have to drown them with a quick spray from the shower head to rid my sink of them. When I first moved in, other people living on campus told me that I had moved in during the season of ants - but as the season(s) have come and gone, the ants have stubbornly stayed. The Irish girl who lived there before told me later that the ants were a constant feature of the apartment the entire time she lived there.
Recently, tired of eating hard cold bread from the fridge, I devised a new hiding place for my bread. I had noticed that anything that I left atop my one burner gas cooker was left undisturbed. Last week I decided to stuff the bread into a saucepan and leave the saucepan on top of the burner, and since then I have enjoyed fresh, soft ant-free bread! The other place that the Ants never ventured was in my wooden sugar bowl – until earlier this week! I have resorted to keeping the sugar in the fridge as well, and until I empty the sugar bowl, I have to drink juice or tea with dead ants floating in it! The most amazing thing about these ants is that putting them in the fridge does not kill them!! When I put the sugar out for a few minutes, they will revive and go about their business again!! They even get under my sweet wrappers, and these days I don’t bother to brush off the immobile (dead? over fed?) ants before I pop one into my mouth.
All this to wonder if the Ants are a metaphor for my life. The last few days I have taken some time off to be my self. Easter weekend saw a historic gathering of my siblings, brother-in-law, nephew, cousins and an Aunt at my parent’s country home, and although this was great fun, it was somewhat draining. Living all the way out here is one of the things I love about this place – when I need to withdraw and be completely alone, all I need to do is go to my house and shut the door; no threat of unexpected visitors or anything; perhaps that is one of the reasons that thinking of leaving this place (as much as I desire it) gives me a pain in my leg (signifying a reluctance to move forward). Going back to town will bring me into close proximity with relatives, friends, noise, etc.
Anyway, it all started with me re-watching ‘The Secret’; As usual, I was prompted to ask myself what I really wanted. In the past I have described this in terms of places and job titles, and so on, but this week I wondered if I ought not just outline general characteristics and let the universe deal with the specifics. For instance – I have been going on about Edinburgh 2008. But on closer inspection, what is it about this move that would fulfil my desires? I know it has to do with an unlimited supply to literature of all genres at every corner, and a host of people to discuss it with, not to mention the possibility of pursuing my writing; historical sites to visit; close proximity to mainland Europe so that I can hope on a plane and visit any place anytime; etc. Also, it would provide me an opportunity to do my PhD, which is something I have wanted to do since September 2006! ‘The Secret’ encourages one to focus on an end result and perhaps it is time that rather than specify places (which I have no guarantee of fulfilling my needs) and methods and whatnot, I should just list the things that I enjoy doing, ways that I enjoy being, goals I would like to achieve, and so on.
The result of the last few days of reflection as I have already mentioned has been an increase in general antsyness. Two nights ago, I had a pain in my leg the whole night as I struggled with facing and owning the future that I want, which as far as I could see then would only be possible if I left this place. Maybe in that matter as well I should just concentrate on a way of life that I desire, and attract it into my life, instead of concentrating on what has to happen for that way of life to come about. Who says I cannot achieve this life even if I stayed here? To be honest, I do like it here – I mean there are aspects of the job that don’t thrill me, but on the whole there is a lot to be said for staying. No wonder my insides rebel against leaving.
Ah well, I’ll go work on that wish list then.

BLESS STEVEN, ALPHA, ALAN AND WALTER AND THAT OTHER GUY

I just came from reading a short story by the French writer, philosopher and existentialist Jean Paul Sartre – the first time I am reading anything by him – such gripping stuff!! The story is called ‘The Wall’, and it is about three men captured during WWII who have just been informed that they will be executed the following day; it gives an account of their last night. What a fascinating read! Sartre himself was captured by Germans during the same war and was kept in a camp for a year before he was released (or escaped), so maybe he could well imagine what it was like to await one’s death – who knows he actually lived through such a night himself. What was really interesting was how one of his characters grapples with the idea that there is complete nothingness beyond death (a belief that Sartre no doubt held), but then appears to be unable to sustain this belief when the time of his death arrives.

These days I try to read with a writer's perspective, and one of the main things that occurred to me here was that one can really immerse oneself in an experience and write about it – even though one has never actually had such an experience - such as imagining what one’s last day on earth might be in this case. I have often worried that I did not have enough world experience to write convincingly about anything, or that I have not interacted with enough people or gone to enough places. This fear was mitigated somewhat when, as I read Sartre’s short story, I found myself able to imagine or invent various possible directions for the story to go – though I have to admit Sartre’s decisions were far superior to any I had come up with! At any rate, from now on I choose to believe that I am able or invent believable characters, create drama, and engage my reader at all levels! If nothing else, all the reading that I have done has been enough exposure to events, places and characters. At any rate, I emerged from ‘The Wall’ (because in truth the man had me completely captivated) feeling like reading is the best gift that God could have given me!! Bless Steven, Alpha, Alan and Walter and that other guy whose name I cannot remember now!! Tumusiime something or other. These are the young men who introduced me to reading when I was about 10 years old, although it has to be said my mother played her part too – I remember her buying me two books around that time: ‘A Call of the Wild’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet’. On the other hand, I read the bible ferociously, and since I remember reading it just for the pleasure of reading rather than religious reasons, I guess I also had a natural predisposition to reading.

(The title of this post is me trying to learn the skill of naming short stories – as any post here is – I have discovered that titles are a crucial part of the short story as they communicate just as much as the body of the story itself)

So, this brings me to another question that I have set myself – what kind of writer shall I be or am I? I find myself drawn to literature that posses questions, that explore experience, that probes the unconscious, rather than that which sets out to merely to entertain – I think I should be very satisfied producing this kind of writing. I have spent the morning reading famous last words, as well as the famous quotes of philosophers like Immanuel Kant and Voltaire (that is another subject yet to be mastered – Philosophy – but all in good time!), and they are the kind of things to really get you thinking. At one point, I was prompted to look outside my window and consider the true nature of things – to ponder the swaying of the leaves in the breeze, day after day those branches sway – and to what purpose? One might say there does not necessarily have to be a reason for everything, but I compare this to the life that man leads - sometimes it looks like we are going round in circles, no different from these leaves. Hmmm. No wonder some philosophers have driven themselves mad thinking about these kinds of things… Jean Paul Sartre was constantly tortured by his own freedom for instance, and what a great responsibility weighed down on him as a result, without prospect of escape from it as long as he lived. Looking at some of his sayings exposes this state of mind:

‘Hell is other people’.
‘Man is anguish’.
‘Man is a useless passion’
‘He was free, free for everything, free to act like an animal or like a machine...he could do what he wanted to do, nobody had the right to advise him...He was alone in a monstrous silence, free and alone, without an excuse, condemned to decide without an excuse, condemned to decide without any possible recourse, condemned forever to be free.’


I tend to agree with him to a certain extent about personal responsibility: we really are completely responsible for what we do, for what happens to us and so on, but I find that I can not go to the extremes he went; that we decide our reality, our destiny (although I believe that to an extent) – but somehow his thinking was too hopeless, too full of helplessness, uselessness, aloneness; in a word, too much for me to embrace. Although even the wise Solomon said everything under the sun is useless, everything has been done, and will be done over (or something to that effect). In a way, my hesitation to explore the extremes of Sartre's thinking makes me a little anxious about my commitment to exploring the nature of reality – why do I reject, or hold back from considering some of these ‘extreme’ positions? I should be able to go right to the edge and face the abyss. What am I afraid of? After all, I sometimes think that whatever is beyond the edges of my knowing is something warm and comfortable, rather than something waiting to gobble me up. Speaking of which, I have often wondered where I get this feeling of security – maybe it is just a state of mind that I choose, and therefore create.
At any rate, reading is just the biggest pleasure – observe what wealth of experience emerges from it! That short story has engaged me all morning - it has exposed me to one of life's greatest mysteries – the distance between what we believe, and what is likely to be the truth after all. Sartre’s last words were: ‘I Have Failed’. I certainly am aware that all this thinking back and forth, and wondering and pondering and reflecting may be a futile exercise, great thinkers have rehashed these same ideas and gotten nowhere as far as I can see, but what pleasure it brings me!

TAKING PLEASURE WHERE I CAN

Playing Music

So, today I am having quite a slow day; perchance this is due to having to wait as patiently as I can for word on whether or not a trip that I would like to take has been approved by management. I have a pile of pending work that I really can not be bothered to do – however, of course, I have to do it – so I decide to play some of my favourite music at high volume – being the boss these days, I can do what I want now :-) No, seriously, I play the music with the permission of my colleagues… the loud music lifts my spirits tremendously I must say!!

Getting out of a boring meeting

The advent of becoming Acting Big Boss has brought with it unending meetings. In the last two weeks I have been subjected to an astonishing range of meeting styles and chairs; today's however, took the cake!! This man does not have the slightest grasp of the concept of summarising!! He has recently been appointed head of research but I don’t know if he doesn’t yet have that much work to do so that he wants to hang on to us for as long as possible I don't know - it was ridiculous!! First of all, he thanked us for coming to the meeting (about half of us had cut), and went on about how he doesn’t thank us because he benefits in any personal way from our attendance, but that the organisation, ourselves, and blah, blah, blah. This went on for maybe 10 minutes!! Then on to Agenda Item number 1 – Minutes of the Previous Meeting: for a terrifying moment he directs the secretary to READ the minutes, and then when the secretary hesitates, he suggests we go page by page and make comments as we go. Ok. Page one: no one has any comments. The man directs our attention to the list of absentees from the last meeting: some, he says, have never attended even one meeting, nor have they ever sent apologies. He ponders the possible reason for this - asks us what do we think? Some people ACTUALLY join him in this speculation for some minutes!! To conclude that point he says, could we suggest a way forward – A way forward??? A way forward on what??? Getting people to come to meetings?? And may I remind you – this is Page ONE!! It is coming up to an hour since the meeting started at this point, and I decide I’ve had enough - I mumble something about having to attend to some students and other admin stuff and make my escape! I swing by the library and pick up a book titled 'Top Resorts Down Under' (as in Australia), full colour photos etc, and proceed to my house for a late lunch!!

Making a Salad

A friend of mine, whose culinary skills never cease to amaze me, and who makes the most killer salads, and who persuaded me once to actually eat a salad with RAW garlic in it (soooo tasty by the way!), told me once that making salad was dead easy! So, seeing as I had to return to the urgent matter of playing loud music in the office (and maybe do some work), and so had no time to make a proper lunch, I decided to make a salad. My friend told me that all one had to do was throw anything and everything that one had on hand together. Stuff always went with one another no matter what she claimed. Naturally sceptical at the time, I decided there was no time like the present.

Looking into my fridge, I line up some possible ingredients: red and yellow bell peppers, tomatoes – too bad I did not have any carrots, garlic (gasp!), I take out a half eaten can of tuna, black olives or green? – black I think. Uhm, a lemon – standard salad ingredient – even I know that; oh, Olive Oil from the shelf, erm – what else - peanut butter? Honey? Pesto sauce? No, maybe I am stretching it a little. I decide that I am set. Oh, wait, raisins! My friend uses cranberries but I say, she actually has to send for those from the United States!! Raisins would do as well.

Next: chop the peppers, slice the onions, (skip the garlic – maybe some other time), cut tomatoes, squeeze the lemon over the mixture, sprinkle salt, grind out some black pepper, mix in a handful of raisins and the shredded tuna, and finally drizzle olive oil over everything. Pour a generous amount of fresh passion fruit juice into a long stemmed wine glass (ok, I made the passion fruit juice last week but I've kept forgetting to drink it – it has however kept fresh because I did not put any sugar in it). Add sugar to the juice and top up with a few ice cubes. Get out my full colour picture book, carefully balance my plate on one of the two three-legged stools that pass as the sole furnishing in my living room, sit on the other stool and toast to my good health.

The salad was pretty damn good!! Even though when I'd finished eating it I spotted the jar of black olives standing unopened on the kitchen counter.. Probably wasn't meant..

Now I am back to playing music loudly and posting this before I get back to work… Ah, the good life!

WHEN PAIN IS GOOD

Two or three weeks ago I overdid the walking exercise and stressed a muscle in the arch of my left foot. For ten whole days I walked around limping and I felt thoroughly sorry for myself!! At day eight I went to the sick bay and the nurse suggested that I bandage it, but all that got me were more sympathetic smiles and head shaking from everyone I passed – the foot got no better!! Two days later my friend decided to take matters (i.e. the foot) into her own hands and gave me a hard massage; I left her house jumping!! I remember walking aimlessly around campus, running unnecessary errands just to test the foot out, and trying not to let doubt into my heart; scarcely could I believe that I could walk without pain - I mean I had limped around for ten whole days and five minutes of massage had put me right as rain. I had heard of people to whom miracles happened – they regained their sight or threw away the crutches, only to be hit by severe doubt and be back with their infirmities in no time… So after that time I really struggled to keep my belief up… The point is life felt so much better – it was like I had gotten a new lease on life..

It’s like earlier today: I had really, really bad cramps from my period starting, and as I lay there on my bed groaning and rushing back and from the bathroom to throw up, I felt as miserable as anything... This pain always reminds me of the pain of child birth, and makes me wonder how much pain women in labour must feel seeing as some of them scream out loud and even jump up and run around the ward like crazy people (not to mention where they find the energy).

This thought occurred to me again recently when I had to have my hair dreaded. I had had it in braids for almost four months and the extensions being quite heavy had been kept up a constant pressure on my scalp as they hang down under their weight. The day I undid the braids, I decided to go straight to the salon and dread the hair. GOOD GOD!!! What a nightmare that was!!!! First of all my hair was a tangled wrangled mangled bush – what can I say?? The hair dresser drowned it in detangler and conditioner and all manner of lotions to help detangle it, but to no avail – he had to comb through the hair inch by inch, and I felt as though my scalp was going to peel right off!! At one point I asked him to hand over the comb so I could do it myself but wah!! Nothing doing.. We were at this for two whole hours and I sat through it with feet, teeth, shoulders, elbows my WHOLE body clenched, until I thought I was going to faint with the pain!!

Finally we got through the detangling and then came the dreading: he started off massaging wax into the wet hair (even that was painful!) and then starting in the back took a small portion of the hair, pulled through it with a fine comb, then set the comb back at the base of the hair and pulled through the portion again while twisting the comb until he’d twisted the to the full length of the hair; at this point he portioned off another small amount of hair and made another dreadlock, and so on. This process also took some time, but as he got to the middle of the head, the wax that he had spread all over the hair had now hardened so it was getting more and more difficult to pull through the hair to twist it. Every now and then though, he sprayed my hair with water, and then continued. Now about two thirds of the way to the front of my head is a very sensitive area – I think it became that way because of a fall I had on the ice when I went ice skating once – when he came to that region, tears just begun rolling down my face – it was soooo painful!! I kept surreptitiously wiping away the tears but man – that is when I begun to really wonder if I would ever bear the pain of childbirth!! Anyway, in time of course he finally twisted the last one, and I could go home at last!! My friend – if I tell you how I felt!!! I walked out of the building – I had to use the back entrance because it way past closing time – I passed some shady guys playing a dice game of some sort, walked through the dirty smelly back street, stepping over flowing sewage and passing more shady (incidentally dreadlocked) street boys, briefly felt afraid but told myself to look confident and not lose a step, but nothing could dampen my high spirits!!

So anyway back to earlier today: after the cramping and vomiting had passed, and I had brushed my teeth and washed my face, I stepped out into the punishingly hot midday sun and felt that all was right with the world. I even decided to reward myself with some junk food at the staff pub, and they were playing some country that had me tapping my foot and dancing in my seat! For once even the gloom and doom being reported in today’s papers had no effect on me – ALL WAS WELL WITH ME!!

THE UNCONSCIOUS

I have been having the weirdest dreams…

Eh, before I go any further, I must say one thing:

BARCELONA BABY!!

This is how I hope to get to Barcelona at the end of March: focus on the end goal, and care less about the means… So I keep saying
BARCELONA (there it is again), and visualising myself in the city, and studying the street map that I picked up at the reception of my hotel, and visualising myself negotiating the narrow (?) streets and figuring out the public transport; I have downloaded a tourist guide and picture myself visiting this café or that restaurant, basically!! I will know for sure tomorrow, so fingers crossed!! In the meantime, say it with me:

BARCELONA!!!

Right, back to our scheduled programming :-) I was saying that I get the strangest dreams these days – well, all dreams are strange obviously but let me say I am more aware of them these days. The other day I dream that I’m sitting in a chair, and ‘walking’ towards a certain room whose door slowly swings open as I approach, and then as I begin to cross the threshold, a force field of some sort pushes me out again – I say ‘force field’ because it was not a wind, nor any physical thing that I could sense – it really felt like I was being repelled or something… anyway, next thing I know I am lying on my bed – and at this point the dream sort of merged with reality because I felt like this was really happening – a strong wind begun to blow around my room and my covers were yanked off me as my body was forced upward at terrific speed, not very high up, somewhere near the ceiling I would guess, and there my body held, stiff and straight. This happened so fast that I hardly had time to be afraid – and then as I started to BE afraid, something told me that it was alright, this was merely a prelude to something that I had been waiting to happen, and so I told myself not to be afraid, and to just go with it.. Don’t remember what happened after that but when I woke up I racked my head to remember why I thought this was nothing to be afraid of, but could not remember… Up to now I cannot figure out what that was all about, but I am still not afraid anyway.

Then two days ago I dreamed that I had to have my tonsils removed – and that they would have to drill through my throat and remove them.. so the doctors stuck an intravenous tube down my throat and begun feeding me with anaesthesia. I could see the fluid coming down the tube into my mouth, and this went on for sometime, on and on and but effect; then I begun to feel like I was drowning in the anaesthesia, so I tried to tell them to stop but my voice came out as an incompressible gurgling.. at this point they pushed a tube the size of a magic marker under my chin and straight into my throat but at that point I woke up – heart pumping.

Then this morning, I woke up from a dream which unfortunately I have largely forgotten but I know it ended with a woman trying to get us out the back way because some people were after us and were banging on her front door (I don’t know whom I was with).. So she gives us a key to fit into a small key hole in the wall (one couldn’t tell there was even a door there) and as I tried to turn the key in the lock it begun to melt in my hand and twist out of shape and finally broke in two so that I couldn’t get the door unlocked. I quickly went back to find the woman and apologise for damaging her key, but I was greeted with abuse as she informed me that she operated a brothel behind that door and now how would she survive etc… Next thing I know I am walking along with one of my mother’s brothers and he is telling me that my grandmother on my father’s side (who died about a year ago) was berating him for not having any children (my uncle is over fifty and has four grown children, but somehow in this dream I also believed he had no children). Apparently my grandmother went on to ask him if he was ‘lame’ – and as he said this we were walking up to a group of people at a barbeque, and one of them turned out to be my grandmother and she was falling about laughing from hearing my uncle talk about being lame; and then I woke up.

Reflecting on these weird dreams, I wondered at the richness of our unconscious – basically during sleep our brains can make free associations and make up all sorts of stories! I have just come from reading a book of short stories by a guy called Maugham Somerset, and his stories are just astounding!! It features some of the most ordinary people but they are faced with some extraordinary circumstances – and it is not even as if these circumstances are fantastic – they are all perfectly possible – but surely they can’t all be inspired by true life – he must have made some of them up – but HOW?? I think I am a good enough story teller, but I don’t know how I will fare in the fiction genre.. A book that I am reading on craft encourages the beginning writer to just be confident that they are an entertaining story teller, and to go with it..

No wonder sometimes to aid my creativity I lie down and day dream for a while – all sorts of crazy stuff goes through my mind then! Perhaps I should begin to mine this source? I am reminded of my Mom’s visions: before she goes on a journey or has to leave the house to run an errand, she has a lie down and she says this usually results in her getting some kind of vision that shows her what lies ahead, and then she can pray as is needed. I don’t know how effective or true this is, but it appeals to me somehow…

So anyway hooray – more afternoon naps for me!! :-)

BURIED EMOTIONS!!!

A friend of mine has the gift of being able to instantly sense the state of emotions in any room that she enters, no matter if these are overt or suppressed. She has often received grief from her friends and family for always trying to delve into the emotions and affairs of others, but she says it is as easy for her to ignore her friends’ emotional and mental states as it is for her to ignore one of them suddenly turning up with an amputated limb. I recently met with her for an afternoon and after we had been talking for a while she suddenly narrows her eyes and asks:

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘Wrong?’ I ask ‘Nothing.. Why do you ask?’

Well, you look kind of unhappy.. unsettled in some way..’

‘Really? That's odd. I don’t know of any particular reason I would be unhappy.. I mean there are a couple of things that I feel below the surface, unresolved things, but I am not aware of being unhappy as such.’

‘I don’t know,’ she says ‘I mean for instance you have been frowning since you sat down, or else giving me strained smiles’

‘Hmm...’ I frown – this time I am aware of it - and think about what she is saying.

I hesitate to argue with her because not two days earlier, another friend of mine had asked me how I felt about some people close to me with whom I currently have a strained relationship. My immediate response was that beyond a general feeling of disconnectedness with them, I only felt a little worried about their well being and maybe mild irritation whenever we had our never ending disagreements. Further questioning by her however revealed that in fact I feel deeply hurt, misunderstood, unsupported and confused - a FAR cry from what I had thought!! This gave me pause at the time, and now it came back to me, so I decided to think more deeply about what might be manifesting so clearly on my face and in my demeanor that my friend had been able to pick it up straight away.

Today morning (two days later), I am sitting in the University library completely absorbed with reading some books on the craft of writing short stories and the biographies of famous short story writers when the thought comes to me (not for the first time either): ‘I do not want to be teaching in my faculty, I REALLY do not!! I want to be getting my business off the ground. I want to be writing fiction. I want to be watching people on the street and making up stories. I want to be creating something new. I do NOT want to be teaching in my faculty!!’

The dissatisfaction with my job has been a recurring theme over the last four months or so; I was sure I had resolved it in December, but then following some new considerations in January, I reneged on my previous decision but obviously my subconscious is trying to tell me that I have not resolved the issue to its satisfaction. This weekend my friend and I also discussed the importance of following one’s bliss, and maybe when my subconscious receives these kinds of information (and it receives them on a daily!), it factors them into its evaluation of my decisions. On a conscious level I know that the see-sawing over the decision to quit stems mainly from one thing: WHERE and HOW I will I do my PhD. Being employed by a university all through one’s PhD study, or at the very least at the time one completes one’s application brings with it such advantages that it is currently unthinkable for me to quit. If I could only find a way around this, life would be MUCH better!! I have thought and thought and THOUGHT about how to get around this, but I am coming up completely blank!! No wonder I had buried the whole business.

Ah well, my friend’s observation has at least forced me to look at this problem again, and I think I have clarified it further – if I can find a way around the PhD problem, then I will, if not, then I will look for ways to make the best of a bad situation; at the very least I will relive my poor spirit from the burden of unresolved problems.

LEARNING TO WRITE FICTION:

I am reading a book on how to write fiction (and think about it) and I am really enjoying it! The good news is that I have already been doing a lot of the things that a writer in training should do to build fitness, such as writing regularly, keeping journals, going around with a notebook in hand to record thoughts and observations, reflecting on my dreams when I wake up, and reading, reading, reading... The bad news is that looking back at some of my own writing (which has drawn a lot of praise from people who read a lot and with whom I share reading taste), I find that it is riddled with some of the more common mistakes that beginning (or BAD) writers make!! This led me to thinking that either:

1. My writing is not all it is cracked out to be – and that therefore my assessors and I are no good

Or

2. Reading these kinds of books (on how to write well) is going to make me sooo critical of my writing, that I’m never going to be able to produce anything that I think is worth publishing!

If the latter is true, then woe is me!! :-/

Ah well, on the bright side, I have such a passion for writing, that very little can truly discourage me - that is surely a plus. Secondly, it turns out that one of the best ways to train as an aspiring writer is to read, and God knows I love to read; moreover,I have read A LOT! Thirdly, I am a quick learner; and what’s more, a reflective one This means that I can only get better if I apply myself! I am sure writers, no matter how gifted, still need to learn how to express themselves and this does not happen overnight. Fourthly, this self criticism can only drive me to better performance; I cannot imagine a bigger obstacle to learning than thinking one is already good enough!

So anyway, reflecting on what I have been reading, I am particularly intrigued by two processes: characterisation and plot. In the case of characterisation, I have always wondered how writers make up completely fictional yet wonderfully believable characters, and was always sceptical about that disclaimer that they include at the beginning of the book that the characters portrayed were completely fictitious and any resemblance to actual living or dead persons was not intentional. As it turns out, or according to this book anyway, it is perfectly possible for these kinds of characters to actually be 'born' within the writer's subconscious!! Obviously, just like babies, they will bear a resemblance to their parents and other relatives (read the people with whom the writer comes into contact), but just like children, they will have a personality all of their own nevertheless.

I found this so intriguing that all day today I have been trying to imagine the response of different characters to different stimuli: in the book they ask you to imagine the reaction of a passenger in a non-smoking compartment of a train to another person who walks in, sits down and lights up. I immediately pictured a non confrontational and self effacing woman, and compared her possible reaction to that of an irritated, overworked, underpaid civil servant for instance. Immediately the possibilities for creating characters opened up to me! Before that, I had worried that I had not interacted with enough people, did not know enough of human behaviour etc. But now that I think about it, maybe reading all those books on behavioural psychology was preparation for just such a time!! Not to mention all those books on religion, politics, the law, feminism, geography, and heaps and heaps of fiction of all genres (except horrors!!) In future these should help me flesh characters out and organise plot.

Speaking of plot, the book says that writers generally use one of two approaches: either they will plan it all out from the beginning, or they will write whatever comes as it comes to them - the end might even get written first, so that the writer writes backwards.. Either way, the one who starts out by laying it all out is likely to force himself into a box, otherwise he will wander away from the plan by all means. This for me was a source of great release - I tend to try and know the end from the beginning; failing that, I often cannot even begin to write a story!!

All in all, comforting thoughts.

(This is an opportune moment to stop I think, writers are advised not to write beyond the end of the story. As it is, the conflict that I started out with is resolved, and the reader (I hope) feels like they have closure. It is also important that the reader does not suspect the writer of cheating - you know like how in a book or a movie, conflict is resolved by highly unlikely people or circumstances - like aliens coming out of no where to rescue the captives; or someone suddenly rising from the dead a la South American soap opera)

A last note: I hope I am not going to fall into the habit of analysing everything I write to death!! That might a bit boring..

bOy mEt gIRl

Skiving off work today, I watched this really useless movie called ‘Wedding Wars’ (worryingly, I’m watching a lot of useless movies of late!!); such an attractive title, and so even more of a let down for it! It is about a guy whose only brother is openly gay, and is about to marry the only daughter of a conservative governor during election year. The straight brother asks the gay brother to be his wedding planner and during the course of events the governor is forced to make his stand against gay marriage, which he is NOT for, which stand the straight brother comes out and admits he shares; the gay brother lays down his wedding planning tools (so to speak) and goes on strike by picketing outside the governor’s house, blah, blah, the brothers reconcile, the day is somehow saved the movie ends!! Lame beyond words.

Anyway, turns out it was not a complete waste of time as I fell to day dreaming after it was over. This was the continuation of a daydream that I drew my sister into one hot afternoon during the Christmas holidays to kill time.. (interesting expression - kill time!! Would't that literally be like burning money? Anyway) In this daydream, we were going to be organising my future wedding. Since I am not dating at the moment, I thought this would also be a good exercise in visualisation and creation. My sister interns with an architect and they have this client who wants to develop 10 acres of land beside the River Nile. We are told there are masses of land on sale around this place as well so it had occurred to me to go and check it out while it was still cheap.

Any how, I decided to have this riverside place as the venue of my daydream. Lazily, we floated off on our day dream – quite a pleasant way to spend a lazy afternoon I’ll tell you. At the end of it all, I wondered if I couldn’t look for land specifically to set up a wedding venue for people – especially for those who want to hold garden ceremonies! I would have the place permanently gazetted, build a gazebo right out by the river, build an open walled tented structure with a floor where one could set tables or dance, a place to store food and beverages, enough sockets for all the lighting, video, music, refrigerators… Two or three bandas for the bride and their party to stay over on the wedding night (bed and floor of bridal suite littered with flower petals as an extra), the works!!! Anyway, watching this movie really helped me visualise this!! It may have been weak on coherent storytelling, but it did not hold back on the colour!! I could have chairs and tables for hire, I could put guys in touch with decorators, photographers, transporters, caterers, name it! Heck, I could get them a wedding planner if they wanted!! My business would be called: bOy mEt gIRl - cool eh?

Ahhh, what a nice daydream!! I went back the office eventually but the better part of the afternoon was spent - killed? Gosh, I won't let myself even enjoy a day dream!!

HE GOES OR I GO - AND WHY I HAVE TO GO

I have spent the last few hours in my house watching a movie and drinking coffee. Life is too slow for me! I cannot concentrate on work, and earlier I tried to post but couldn’t find any inspiration!! Is this how people get completely fed up with their lives they have to force a change??

This week it became clearer why I want out of my current job!! It’s an old song I know, but everyone has sang it at one point! Anyway, mine goes like this:

A while back, we were taken over by one of those copy cat types, who has somehow perfected the art of covering up his inadequacies and sound like a pioneer. This is a guy who took our workplace and turned it on its head, then sat by like the rest of us waiting to see what would follow.. You know when you are going along happily enough (sure, things could be better) when some guy comes along and shouts

‘God, how can you guys take this? '

You think ‘How dare he? Who does he think he is??!!?’

‘You are really not serious!!’ Is he sneering??

You think ‘Now look here a minute...’

’Infact, if I were you, I would never stand for this!!’ he interrupts

You are stunned into silence. This guy is too obnoxious for words. Where does he get off?

Weeks and weeks and many replays later:

‘I know a better way’

Resigned. Worn down. Cowed.

‘Fine… What do you suggest’ you mumble.

Enough encouragement!

In he sweeps with changes, reforms, overturnings, turnarounds, can he pull it off? Wait for it – waiiit, stalling, stalling, revs, revving, can he do it, can he??

WAIIIT

AAAND

HE DOES!! Ululating!! Loud cheering. Applause all around.. Was that a cat call? Wow. The entire staff united as one undulating organism behind him. The man of the moment! What a visionary! What a guy!!

Ohhhhhh...

So, the morning after.

Still trying to recover from the triumph of the day before, we all slowly get back to work. We step into a new life. The students turn to us. We turn to the man. Expectant.

Wait. Rewind and come again.

We turn to the man. We wait. We expect. We -

Where is he?

He has left me a little note:

Hi, have to dash to Austria, then I’ll be on to Australia. You can handle things while I’m away can’t you? I am looking so forward to my trip. 10 WHOLE days!! (I hear gushing) Do you know that I am booked into one of the oldest hotels in Vienna – TOOO cool.

Anyway, see you! :-)

HUH? HUH??

But what shall I do?? I don’t know what your plan was!! You didn’t tell me. YOU were going to do it. To finish it. To see it through!! To -

The students look to us. We look to ME!

‘Why are you looking at me???’

Well, he left you in charge!!

You are the one with the fancy education degree!!

You always know what to do…

Ok, Ok, hang on, wait.. I rifle through all the papers on his desk; I try his cell phone. I run around the building.

They wait. They expect.

Noooooo!!!

ANYWAY,

When my voice was hoarse from shouting no, no, no, no, I found myself whimpering why, why, why, and then finally whispering, ok. fine. Louder. Fine. Chin squared. Fine! Eye gleaming. FINE! Back straightened – anyway, you get the picture.

Cut to present, things haven’t gotten any better. Later I found out the guy had basically cut and paste some programme from his previous school, simply because he felt it (and by extension he) was better than ours. us. No effort to contextualise, no effort to even re-word!! Anyway, this might not have been such a disaster, if only he'd had a plan! But NO! The guy's song (which is also tired by the way) is that we should all innovate, own the progamme (own the programme??? Is this when he tells us??) In short, this is a guy that does not know how to spell ‘follow through’. He has basically disengaged, any attempts to get him to specify what he planned to do next produces waffling and longwinded treatises and circular arguments, accompanied by pseudo intellectual chin stroking and far away looks interupted by sudden eye narrowing (which is how he walks away from you mid-sentence - like he has been struck by some brilliant idea!)

You probably hear the bitterness in my voice, well, you hear right. But anyway, I can’t blame all my woes on the man. It is up to me to live in this day dream of his and struggle with all the details while he floats off to wherever, or to up and leave...

Why am I even wasting all this energy on him?