Saturday, April 30, 2005

Infinity is an infinitely scary concept

Letting the mind wander can be quite terrifying. Pondering the big questions can be like surfing an extensive catalog of information on the net. One travels in one direction opening window after window, returning to the beginning to select the next option and so on, until one is completely disorientated and the answer becomes evasive. Some questions can keep us pondering from now and until forever without rebuttal.
Infinity is an infinitely scary concept. Space that goes on forever. Time that goes on forever. Even the seemingly harmless numbers. And the most scary, the mind. Most wonderous too.
Free will is a ready answer for those who ask why, if there is a God almighty, does he not intervene, when there is suffering. Free will and the fact that only our morals and common sense (both of which are learned) hold us back from realizing the thoughts that sometimes pass through our minds - standing at a great height for example and having the fleeting desire to jump.
I have great admiration for philosophy students. I can travel down that path for a while, but then the questions become almost claustrophobic in their intensity, ignorance becomes bliss.
What is real and what is perception and what do we truly, if anything, know - the apple in the forrest that has no-one to hear it fall, a star we see at night that no longer exists, a chair is a chair is a chair. It is beyond my capacity for perception.
What interests me is the question of whether the human race is actually capable of learning fromt the past. It seems to me that we are intent on going down a road that will ultimately leed to doom, and I have never been fond of the whole doomsday concept, or an advocate. "Learn from the mistake of others, as one does not have the time to commit them all individually." The list is infinite. Global warming, environmental disasters on the rise, nuclear warfare, biological warfare, starvation, overpopulation, the risk that modern tecnology will do more harm than good, and scientific breakthroughs like genetic engineering will eventually be used to produce human beings subscribing to Nietzsche's, and Hitler's for that matter, idea of a "ubermensch" (aren't I little miss Sunshine?). There are incurable illnesses and simultaneously thanks to ever-increasing drugs and procedures found within the world of medical research and science, we are living longer and longer and longer. Every second female born in this day and age will live past 100 years of age. Is all this the beginning of the end?
It is unforgivable that there are people starving in a world of surplus.
It is shameful.
There is just one certainty in a world that is fast becoming the greatest enigma: We need to take better care of our world and each other. "Mother Earth is not a gift from our parents, but on loan from our children."

Friday, April 29, 2005

Pity the avengers

The desire to avenge is supposedly the strongest of emotions. It is the one that will disregard any of the normal barriers, such as pride, logic, pain or fatigue. It is the most single-minded and steadfast. If allowed, it will take over a life. Consume it, pollute it, overshadowing all else, until nothing else matters. It is an emotion born from hurt, and is pursued with the misconception that it will alleviate that hurt. In actual fact, all is does is cause the avenger more pain and a realisation that in the end, they empowered the enermy by turning every moment into thoughts of retribution.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

The 7 layer itch

My grandmother had her leg amputated just below the knee, and it used to fascinate me how she would complain of an itch on the part of the leg that was no longer there. It was not the last time, I heard of this particular phenonomen. I always wondered whether there was some medical reasoning to explain, or whether it was purely imagined.
Just this morning, I happened to catch a televised ceasarian section being performed.
Firstly, it is indicative of our culture that over 10 percent of c-sections are elective. Naturally, some of these women have valid reason, perhaps it is not their first pregancy and their prior experiences of childbirth were frightening and/or problematic. What interests me is why the others make this choice. Nobody (well, except the undeniably weird and worrying masochist) enjoys pain, but being able to give birth is one of the things that is special about being a women. Women have been going through excrutiating labour and childbirth since forever. Elective c-sections seem to be about taking the easy option. I find it is often the same type of women who are overtly concerned with their personal appearance (as in this being one of their highest priorities in life), which leads me to believe it is mostly about vanity. Perhaps the body does not take as great a toll. The same women also prefer bottle-feeding to breast-feeding. They may make excellent mothers, but they are definitely not advocates of the whole natural, earth mother convention. I may be sounding a little judgemental, but since I had an emergency ceasarian with my daughter, it is a subject which desires clarification.
Biologically, the body is preparing for childbirth, and thus having a c-section is equal to experiencing a massive anti-climax. These feelings did not surface immediately, as my daughter kind of grabbed all my attention, but as time passed, I did feel a certain sadness, as if I had worked and worked for something that never came to fruition. It sounds a little banal, no doubt, since I did go home the proud mother of a gorgeous baby girl, but nevertheless this is what I felt.
I found it immensely interesting and satisfying to watch the aforementioned televized ceasarian section. When having the procedure performed, a screen is set above the mother's chest, so that she is completely unaware of what is going on. The epidural means one cannot feel anything except a certain amount of movement. I could feel pulling of some sort, and it was all over in minutes. Watching the operation gave me a great insight into what went on on that operating table 7+ years ago, and I am so glad, I watched it.
But ever since I did, some 2 hours ago, I have the weirdest feeling in my abdomen. As if my barely visible scar can now be felt through all the 7 layers of skin. It is like I am now feeling the aftereffects of all the pulling, stretching, slicing and suturing that was performed then.
So now, I have a small idea of what my grandmother would go through trying to apease the discomfort that wasn't there.
Weird!

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Worldish

Where are you from? has become an ambiguous, multi-faceted question in modern times. Especially in places like England, Australia and the US, where countless have infiltrated and enriched these countries so that we are now left with boundless communities with varied and mixed cultures. To me a person is from the place where they (were born and) grew up. I am a Londoner, but my heritage is Indian and Danish. More and more of us are a blend of blood and environment, plus we travel and experience and take on board, thus becoming worldish.
Heritage is a somewhat confusing subject. My paternal grandparents didn't actively pass on the ways of India to my father, and he passed even less onto us, but I still feel an affinity with anything Indian. Strange considering neither I or my father have ever visited this magnificent country. Spending sufficient time in a new country, one adopts it as ones own. My mother was born and raised in Denmark, my father in Singapore and myself and my siblings in England - and the funny thing is, whilst taking nothing away from our heritage, we all feel half-British (and through extensive travel) half-worldish.

Snobs make me laugh

Snobs are hilarious, and the danish snobs are the most hilarious. They are very much about keeping up with the Jones' and dropping claims to fame. Certain families within a community have status, and if one can associate oneself with them, then it somehow elevates ones own position in the next pair of climbing eyes. Puuuuuuurlease!
I must say, I have the best time meeting these people...great entertainment value. They tend to go home shocked, driving off in their 20 year old minks and polished Toyota Corollas.
The thing is, I am a wonderful mix, part dane part indian, so when these blonde villagers see me, to them I am (politely) of exotic origin. The danes are (percentage well into the 90's) terribly intolerant of anyone who isn't danish, so whenever they spot me with people they know, it becomes a matter of supreme importance to find out, who I am.
The other day, I went to see my friend, who has just become the mother of two gorgeous boys. Whilst there, a visitor came - an acquaintance of my friend's mother-in-law. And a typical example of a danish snob :-)
My daughter was playing with another *girl, and the lady asked our host (my friend) if these children were mine...I think, she thought, I couldn't speak the language.
"Just one," my friend explained, "the other girl is my sister Charlotte's."
"Which Charlotte is that?" asked the lady.
"Charlotte Storm."
[Dialogue seems to be the way to go to explain the comical nature of the conversation.]
"Oh," she said, clearly in awe, "I didn't realize Charlotte Storm was your sister. I know both her and Peder (her husband)," she continued, claiming this desired association.
My friend and I just looked at each other, and almost burst out laughing, and the follow-up was a done deal.
"Actually, this is how I know Autumn," said my friend, indicating myself, "Autumn is Peder's sister's daughter."
Well, we could have knocked her off her chair with a feather. We had totally rocked her world off it's axis with this shocking news.
And the thing of it is, the status as the most important family in that area of Denmark has always been of great comical entertainment to every inborn member of the clan (some of those married into the family take it very seriously). It stems from my grandparents and carries down the 3 generations that proceed it. My grandmother was tougue-in-cheek about it, and she is definitely the matriarch of this reputation. She was no snob and loved to travel and experience other cultures, she didn't judge people by rediculous standards such as money, race, job, etc, but on the type of traits they portrayed.
She welcomed my father and they got on famously. I was the first grandchild and there was never any doubt, I was her pride and joy. And in a small but significant way, my grandmother changed danish perception in that small corner of Denmark. Where most of these other ladies would have died in shame at having their daughter (mid-70's...most danes hadn't seen non-whites) bring home an indian man and have his baby, my grandmother rejoiced in my black hair and big brown eyes and I have thus accompanied her to countless ladies lunches (I enjoyed them...lots of children to play with). These ladies witnessed the woman they tried to emulate hold me up as her greatest accomplishment in life.
I was christened (comprising both my parent's surnames) in my grandparents hometown, and it truly was the event of the year. In fact, the only reason the afore-mentioned visitor didn't know of my existence is because she moved to the area after my grandparents passed, and I have not spent an extended amount of time there since then.
The record still stands unsurpassed for the most people ever to show up at church on that windy day in May 1975. Not only were the walls bursting, but for the only time in history, there were crowds gathered outside. And all because they wanted to catch a glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Storm's foreign granddaughter.
Hilarious! - at least I think so.
*my cousin

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Shame on you!

There is one person in my life, whose pain I cannot bear, and I am not speaking of my daughter, although her pain is my pain. This is a grown man, a strong man who has faced much adversity in life, and it is this that becomes the contributing factor to why I wish him no more. Some people bounce through life never facing any real test of character or faith, and others it seems fall from one challenge to another. It is not that he has not much to be thankful for. As they say, its better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all. And he has undoubtedly had moments of great joy and infinite pleasure. His heart is enormous - the biggest I have ever seen. He has had knocks and taken them, absorbed them and conquered them, but more than his fare share - and if it were up to me, I'd scream 'Enough already!'
So, I take it upon myself to try to be a shield, to soothe and encourage, but I am just me, and in the great scheme of things, I doubt I provide much solace or protection from the elements.
After much hard labour, I have managed to secure the promise of a gift, with no monetary but great sentimental value, and now all I can do is wait and see, if this giftprovider is true to their word or lets me down as so many times previously. Its such a little thing for them, but such a great thing for him, and I cannot for the life of me understand, why it just cannot come together.
It's almost as if this person is intentionally hurting him, and that is painful for me beyond words. How can someone be so cruel? Do they not realize, how simple actions can feel like a knife twisting in another's heart.
Most just do not understand other's pain - they do not realize simple gestures can alleviate some of it. People are too caught up in themselves to reflect overtly on others. What a shameful trait - to be concerned only with oneself.

Come and behold my idyllic life

Some of those movie characters, television series characters and literary characters have to be honest, don't they? Honest in the sense, that the writers based some or all or their traits on people they have come into contact with. Traits, feelings and actions portrayed here cannot all be completely fanciful. And I am not talking about Prince Charming, who does everything right, but good honest people, who are willing to go that extra mile for someone they care about. I am definitely too judgemental, and it may be my greatest downfall. I even mentally critisize the people I like. It's not that I am any better, its just that I can see where they are coming from, why they say what they say, and what their personal, private reasons for doing so are. Most people feel better by belittling others - this is not what I am about. I have admiration for the people I am thinking of, but I can also see pettiness there, and I loathe pettiness.
I've found that people love to feel smug about various areas, where they feel they are doing better than I, be it career-wise, relationship-wise etc. I suspect, they try so hard, because they expect envy to shine from my eyes since they feel they have it all, rather than just the pure happiness on their behalf that is actually residing here.
To the outsider, I guess, I do not have a list a mile long that others could be envious of, but these things are not my priority. It is an attack of beige, actually. I'm do not own my house (because I cannot refute, I will move along within a year or 3), I don't have a fancy car, I don't have a traditional career, I don't have a massive pension account, I don't have a husband or even a serious boyfriend, and I am not actively reproducing. I get these little hints, like as if to say, look at us compared to you, and I just want to burst out laughing. What you have is not what I want, my friend. At least, not that version of it.
I'm so happy for you - you've found happiness. No green-eyed devil a'come a'visiting, I assure you. But you'll never consider believing me - and so, these little jabs will become part my extra mile for you.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Blank canvas

Aspects of character are genetic, it seems. Is that not wonderously strange? To look at my daughter, one would not immediately realize she came from me. My parents and siblings refute seeing any part of my anatomy mirrored in her reflection. Others, whom have never met her father, say she is the spitting image of me, just a fairer version. Where my hair and eyes are dark, hers are respectively blonde and greenish-grey. It is funny, how a certain expression or a certain mannerism reminds us of someone else - at times relations, but also on occasion complete strangers. I grew up with a friend, who could not say sausages - instead it was something close to sawshets. I met another young man, who was practically his dobbeltgaenger and could not resist asking him to say sausages. The exact same muddle was uttered.
Some of my daughters attributes are far removed from my own. Some are so like me, it is uncanny.
A large part of personality undoubtedly is cultivated in childhood and adolescence - experiences, influences, environment. However, another part is certainly innate. Babies have varying attributes and often when they grow, one can see an extention of what was easily discernable even then.
I find it enjoyable observing in particular my sister and all her wonderful excentricities - she is near enough half and half the most individual parts of myself and my younger brother. She does the same things, says the same things and acts the same way we once did.
On occasion, people will redicule the way I interact with children, but this judgement is misplaced. I have reached the prognosis that I more accurately recall what it was like to be a child. The feelings I had, the reasoning behind my actions and emotions, how much I was able to understand and so on. Somehow most others forgot.
Two things are essential: For one, I do not talk baby talk, and defintitely not past the age of two. Baby talk is not a reference to gugus and gagas, but a dumming down of sentences to supposedly make them sufficiently understandable. My vocabulary is naturally somewhat simplified when dealing with young'uns, but my subject is not (examples have included genetics and pollution). I am often accused of talking to children as if they were adults, but I have never yet had a child not be able to answer intelligently having understood exactly what I am saying. Secondly, questions will be answered, regardless of subject. Sensitivity may in some cases be a must, but fobbing them off with idle mutterings or a less than thorough explanation will only curb their natural inquisitiveness and confuse them.
Friends and family would stare at me as if I were mad, when they would hear me launch into an extensive dialogue, whenever my daughter would ask me something bold. However, she never lost interest in what I was telling her (why, mummy? would repeat any number of times), and would eventually understand everything.
I look at other children smaller than her now, and cannot help but compare and think I definitely did something good. I never pushed, only gave her what she asked. Amongst the many books and toys, she got around her 2nd birthday and Christmas were a book comprising the alphabet, colours, numbers and shapes and an electronic phonics bus. It was her choice to fall in love with these, and insist I read the book to her at least 5 times a day. It was a matter of weeks before she had memorised all this new information, and desired more. The result was by the time she was 3, she was able to read, write and do arithmetic on par with children in 1st to 2nd grade.
I now have an exceptionally knowledgable and quick-witted daughter, who sets the standard for her peers. And it isn't due to her being more clever than the average next child on the bench, but simply because her curiosity was always fed, nurtured,encouraged and challenged.
I'm off to visit new-born twins boys today, which is why babies and children are on my mind this morning. The ultimate example of endless possibility, the most extensive blank canvas, the chance for every parent to do good for the world and the greatest responsibility they will ever be presented with.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Woman

Questionable is the person who having watched their first episode of Sex and the City does not instantly fall in love with show. A dear friend and I were were just discussing this cult T.V. series and sharing whom amongst the female characters is our favourite, and soon realized this could be used as a most imformative pick-up line. It could not do other than tell much about what a man values and seeks in a woman that to have him reveal which of these women, he is most attracted to.
Most females, regardless of personality, recognizes that Samantha is the ultimate woman - someone we should all strive to be like. Feisty, strong, unapologetic, confident, ambitious, loyal, spontaneous, open-minded, sexy, successful, curious, true to herself, honest, forward, comfortable, resiliant, persistant, 100% woman and infinitely proud of it.
I am going to adopt the imaginary Samantha Jones as my Guru, my mentor, and get me some more of what I want. And should that bring me a "Just hold my f***ing hand"-type as it did her, no complaints shall pass my lips, in fact it may be just what I need.
To be continued....

Happiness is...

Happiness is...
  1. a sense of belonging
  2. a sense of accomplishment, and
  3. a sense of contentment about oneself

All three must be present for true happiness to be achieved. The abscence of any or more of these is paramount to dissatisfaction in life.

Independent woman - the pressure is on

Whatever the reason,

  1. It iss a woman prerogative to change her mind
  2. Tradition at war with the new-age
  3. Star sign Pisces, symbolized by two fish swimming in opposite directions
  4. Unwillingness to admit a soppy side, or,
  5. Biology making demands

...I find myself torn between wanting to meet someone special and not caring if, I never do.

Women in particular (biology) become naturally broody, once they hit 30. Hormones kick in big time somewhere in ones mid-twenties, as one begins to approach the ideal child bearing age. By 30 many women will desire procreation - undoubtedly natures way of ensuring the survival of the species.

Traditionally, most women would have had their children by their 30's. Things have changed drastically in as much as in this day and age the majority of 1970's products wait until they are in their 30's to produce. Close ties exist between this fact and equality (in every form, sexual, financial, etc) between the sexes, the breakdown of traditional role models (men = hunter/gatherer, women = homemaker/nurturer) , the modern day career woman (seeking to prove anything they can do, we can do better). Times have changed, but still we are programmed through years of evolution, and thus it is hard to shake off some of the emotional reflexes, one may have. One could be wildly successful, enjoy an active social life, have multiple sexual partners, relish life in exactly the capacity it occupies at that given time, and still experience feelings of inadequacy, because one has not managed to lock on to perfect daddy material to fertilize a diminishing quantity of eggs. Many females may feel stigmatized (though more often than not, its imagined) and fear becoming an untraditional old maid (sexually active of course).

Both of the above effect me to some extent, perhaps, sometimes. I have a child, but I do often long for another, whilst on other occasions, its more a case of, if it happens, it happens, and if it doesn't, it doesn't. Having already become a mother curbs the fear in my case of turning 30 child- and husbandless - certainly every woman I know (single, childless) is in a much, much greater state of panic than I have ever experienced even in weak, lonely, in-need-of-T.L.C. moments. And guys, please, do not think, it is only women experience this - its just generally surfaces a little later for you. Male friends in their mid-thirties are in just as much of a panic about whether they will ever continue the family line/name, show the world they are true men, and not die alone.

In actual fact, men probably need wives more than women need husbands. Women are financially independent. We have sexual freedom free from judgment, criticism and stigma. We are able to rear our children alone. This is true of men also, but we can give birth to our children independently. What this has meant is we want and expect more. We no longer settle, and we definitely have no need to stay within the confines of an unhappy marriage. Every second marriage ends in divorce, because women no longer need men.

Pisces' symbol is two fish swimming in opposite directions. Predictions based on astrology seem somewhat silly to me, whereas personality determination based astrology has some basis in my opinion. Certainly, there are certain traits tied to each astrological sign. Sagitarians are very temperamental for example. Virgoes are humorous and tidy. Leos likes to be the center of attention. Taureans take great pride in their home. Pisces love to wear those rose-tinted spectacles, at least until they are ripped away by life changing events enough times. Pisces have a lot of good traits, but they are procrastinators, changeable and at times downright illogical. Compound that to being a woman, and its really quite amazing that I ever do make up my mind (I do, and stick to it, but it just may take me forever to weigh up the pros and cons). Pisces are known to be soft, floaty, romantic beings, and in the olden, golden days, I longed for the prince on a white horse to sweep me off my feet and ride me into the sunset to live happily ever after. I haven't given up on finding my soulmate (if such a thing exists - comforting, happy, optimistic thought), but I no longer expect it. I used to take for granted, I would eventually find true love and live happily ever after. Whether its life that tore the rose spectacles from my eyes, or simply a healthy realization that my happiness depends on no one but myself, and the acquisition of the aforementioned is undoubtedly a little more complex entailing a combination of many things, rather than one mere thing.

I might like a husband (to change electric plugs, mow the lawn, provide sex on tap whenever and however I want it - I'm half-kidding - all that and to share the good and bad, to support, to love and be loved, to complement my life and my experience of it, to add another dimension, and another opinion), but I do not need a husband.

Or maybe that's just an unwillingness to appear soppy. Pressure on women by women to be independent of men. God forbid, if one should admit even to oneself in the most secret closet of ones mind, that one longs to be loved, revered, protected and cherished, to be held in strong arms when fate is mischievious or cruel and assured everything will be allright.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Great Expectations

It is because I have such great expectations of life, that I could never live a mediocre existence. I could never allow it. And its the reason, I am feeling terribly out of sorts with everything. I'm off the rollercoaster after being pursuaded that the merry-go-round was the way to go. Well, guess what? It isn't. At least not for me.
I've no idea, if I am alone in this, or if there are millions like me, but I have always known, what my life will hold. I haven't been aware of all that will feature, and certainly somethings have taken me by surprise, but still, regardless, I've known what's to come. I know it with certainty. I know my destiny, and my destiny will be so, because I have made it so. Reaching the goal no matter what lies between now and then.
Nothing in my life has ever been or will ever be mediocre. Its either one extreme or the next, no half way or two ways about it.
All that I want I shall have, because I will make damn sure of it.
I'd rather do some menial job working for pittance than have my energy and life spent at a career, I should not have undertaken.
I'd lost sight of it for a while, but once again I see the future bright and clear, and it is glorious.

Great contradictions

A great contradiction in terms, but I feel interchangable envy and superiority pertaining to the beige people. The beige people frighten me something terrible. The place where I am residing at this point in time consists of little else. The attack of the beigies trying their best to sink their teeth into me and change me to one of their own.
They are everywhere, amongst our families, amongst our friends, amongst our neighbours. Those frightening beings who enjoy the simple pleasures in life, and have no mad desires or dreams. They live in little 3 bedroom palaces with big-screen T.V.s charged to their credit cards and a polished Toyota Corolla parked in the drive. They holiday at the same place each year, have everyone around for dinner at least once a month, own a minimum of two pets, rear a minimum of 3 children and dream of the day they will have paid off their mortgage. They work their menial job faithfully from 9 to 5 from 18 to 65. Everything is great in the land of beige. They have what they want and want what they need. They've heard of faraway places, different cultures, different lives, but have no desire to see it for themselves. They know what they are told. The world is round, because their geography teacher said it is. They question nothing. The government knows what's best and they are welcome to taxes, no questions asked, no explanations necessary. This generation lives as the one that preceeded and future generations are secured within an enclosed environment. They have a son, and you have a daughter, and we'll all live together in our tiny little corner. They'll eat the food their mothers fed them. They'll celebrate anniversaries at their favourite restaurant. They'll share the chores, the bills, the children, the decisions. Their love will be safe and secure, never fierce or explosive. A cocoon away from the world. On an evening, they'll take a walk. They'll look into other peoples lounges from the outside. There is no need to meet anyone new, because they already have 2-3 couples to rotate New Years with. They talk about the same subjects over and over again, do the same thing over and over again. Their dream for the future is for it to emulate the past. They'll live their lives exactly as they planned and go to their graves satisfied in droves of two.
Imagine being satisfied with the simple life. To never excel at anything, to have every day be much like the last. To never feel passionate. To never go all out to obtain the seeminingly unobtainable. Not to want and dream and hope and desire and fight and win and cry and fail, to discover and learn, to taste and to touch, to reach and find, to believe and to receive, to go forth unknowingly and enjoy the ride no matter how scary, to live each day anew, each day as it comes. But to have a beige marriage and beige children and a beige home and a beige car and a beige job and beige friends and a beige life and a beige future, and to be happy.
I envy their contentment, but I wouldn't trade.

The rear view mirror

If I could bestow a gift upon the world, it would be for each and every person worthy to feel about themselves as I do.
Considering my past, it really is quite amazing and more than a little perplexing.
I worked hard to feel the way I do. It was the ultimate struggle, my hardest fight, undertaken through lack of choice and infinite desire. Its such a far cry from who I once was, reinterating my belief that anything is possible and miracles do occur.
Things may work against me, perhaps even often aspects of my own personality, but never does my belief and trust in myself fail.
And even if I never reach the hypothetical it, I know in my heart, I could have. And although the first is infinitely important, the second is essential.
Whatever happens, where ever life takes me...it their loss, your loss, his loss, her loss.
The only person, who never loses is me. I've won enough to see me through to the end, if sobeit.
There are a great many small potholes on my path, but I shall leave the gaping craters in the rear-view mirror, where they belong.
Learn your lessons, people, and keep them locked in your hearts.

THE IRIS TATOO

As I sit on my porch in my rocking chair near the end of my life, I want to be one of those people who only regret what they have done, and not what they have not done.
As I sit here in my office in my swivel chair at the peak of my life, I am one of those people regretting what I haven't done.
WASTE seems to be tatooed onto my iris, so that this is all I see at these moments in time. A scream is perched at the very top of my throat. I feel claustrophobic, enclosed, trapped, deceived, betrayed, lost. The ground is caving in and its swallowing me up whole.
"I need to get out of this place, if its the last thing I ever do"!
Before it is too late, I need to change what is.
Before it is too late, I need to change.
"Get out of my way NOW, and let me go forth"

We only get one chance - I do not mean to waste mine. There's a strong wind in the air, and its face to face with me. Its taking me on and to proceed I must use any means necessary.

Oh, to be surrounded by calm. Peace and stillness. To flitter and float, to have the warmth of the radiant sun on my upturned face. My mind and heart at peace. My conscience clear. My thoughts forever to bob.

I may be down, but I am never out.

MOVE!

OFF

The 10 of the biggest turn-offs in random order:
  1. Attention-seeking
  2. Lack of control
  3. Lovey-dovey romantic actions
  4. Dishonesty
  5. Bad hygiene
  6. Laziness
  7. Narcissism
  8. Lack of spontanaeity
  9. Selfishness
  10. Ignorance

Lessons learnt

I've learnt my lessons well in life. I'm happy, I have. But I do realize not all have solely positive influence. One of the most important has been, there are few people in this world, whom one can rely on, and so in the end its easier to simply rely only on oneself. And if there is one thing, I am guilty of, then it is surely streamlining my life to make it as easy as possible. I seldom take a chance on anyone. However sad it is, I have a real hard time accepting niceness. I walk around trying to visualize it, and when I finally come face to face with it, I spend my time questioning it.
There are people in this world who will do for others, simply because they can and it presents no hardship, but it is such a rare quality.
Most are out for what they can get. Not going anywhere that takes them out of their way. Not doing anything that does not benefit them in anyway.
I think, most are capable of doing good deeds - and by this I am refering to the larger deeds. Helping someone in distress. Feeding a hungry person. Finding someone who is lost.
Most do not think about the little things. Their conscience does not stretch to suggestion. I'm not even that sure, I am good enough at that.
Its not easy for me to receive. Whilst a thank you would suffice, if the deed was mine, I feel obligated until I feel I have paid in full at least thrice over.
Nobody but nobody is to ever have the upperhand over me. I refuse to feel obligated to others. In fact, I cannot stand it.
And why? Because I have learnt, that almost everyone is power-hungry. At some point, they will find pleasure in their position and work it.
Let me find my own way, independent of all.
The mad old lady who has chased away anyone ever likely to get close - that'll be me. At least, this is what some say.
Thing is, I have erected walls and the walls are covered in barbed wire. But they who can be bothered to look hard enough will find the secret passage.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Get a grip!!!!!!!!

2 steps forward and 3 steps back. This is one part of my life has been progressing for the past 6 years. Most of the time, it does not even show itself in the frontal lobe, but then every so often, it occurs to me and makes me sad.
Its all well and good to bide ones time, but whose to say things will ever change. What if I am destined to make the same mistake again and again, because even the knowledge of it will not change my behaviour.
I think, perhaps, it may be laziness - getting stuck in a rut, and in some obscene fashion actually enjoying the sense of pity I feel for myself. God, I'd hate for that to be true. Hate it! 6 years wasted at least in this aspect. I cannot bear it. I fear it.
True cowardice is knowing what needs to be done, knowing which steps to take, and still doing nothing.
I hope and I pray, my personal arse-kicking will improve. To try and try and try again and again and again. Come on, girl, just do it!

Monday, April 11, 2005

The man with the child in his eyes

The man with the child in his eyes has left me bereft

I have the past and the future has theft
How sad it is, will it ever go leave us
Give us some peace, when so needs must
I may not always have shown it, but I loved him dearly
He too did me wrong, but loved me so clearly
He was part of my life from the day I was born
And I am now left forever to mourn
The new chapter began 7 years thence
I doubt it shall ever be habit hence
Every turn, every step, every look I take
Brings me back to this cruel hateful awful deathly fate
I have in me thoughts of why the child was ever-present
Why the pain was evident, why it never relented
Nothing can be proved as the witness is gone
And she who is left will ever abscond
Fighting forces live where togetherness ought
Families torn, emotions still taught
Each window to the soul is smudged with pain
I doubt any of us shall heal ever again
Life can be unfair, twas never promised otherwise

The shadow of the man with the child in his eyes.

Fwd: Creative Writing

And on that note, the following forward is also well worth sharing with as many as possible.

This should appeal to creative writers as well as scientists!

Philosophers!

The following is supposedly an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat) ?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different Religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume of Hell because Boyle's law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities:

  1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
  2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Theresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you, and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exorthermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore extinct...leaving only Heaven thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Theresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"

Golf balls

A while ago, I mentioned golf balls and mayonnaise jars and promised an explanation would come at a later date.
I received the following Fwd: in my email inbox, as I do so many, but this was one of the few I enjoyed reading.

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the coffee...
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes". The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things---your God, your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favourite passions---things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car. The sand is everything else - the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal"

"Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Sunday, April 10, 2005

I'm not in love

But loved
I have not the home I desire
But a roof over my head
My family are not perfect
But they are my family
I do not shop at Harrods
But my closet is full and varied
I get into arguments with friends
But the land I live in is at peace
I may have an extra kilo or two
But thankfully my fridge is full
I do not like all that I read
But I am able to do so
I haven't had the life I had hoped
But still I have it
I have my share of enermies
But friends by far outweigh them
I'm not the smartest person on this earth
But I have opportunity to change that
The years hold some unhappy memories
But this is not all they consist of
My dreams for the future may not come true
But at least my path is forward

Milking it

Seasons end and seasons begin, the seemingly never-ending circle of reality T.V. has taken prime time captive. This brand of program may be drawing to a close and like sheep in a herd, we will all soon be embroiled in the most honest, hard-hitting documentaries soon.
The people who control the media control the world.
I'm not certain, how many pick up the newspaper or watch the evening news bulletin and actively consider the manner in which it is presented to us. The order of importance, what is given most coverage or significance, and what is not even included.
I become embroiled in some reality television shows for the same reasons, as I have an interest in psychology and Aaron Spelling lives in the grandest mansion. People-watching and mindless entertainment. It's just another way to relax at the end of the day. And extremely gratifying to sit safe and sound on a couch at home, judging and laughing and ridiculing and sympathising with real people whilst still retaining no responsibility for these sentiments.
Just like Jerry Bruckheimer, or whatever the guy behind shows like C.S.I. is called, the people behind reality shows are milking it for all it is worth, and good on them - they are making their millions giving the people what they want for as long as they want it. I'm an avid viewer of both. And at the risk of sounding self-important for the upteenth time, I kind of feel, if they can get me, they can get most.
The juice of the moment seems to be transcending gender. We have had a pre-op transsexual tempting men amongst other things, and currently all-american males competing who makes the best woman and a dating show, where one genuinely lovely female must distinguish between homosexual and straight men, ending up sharing the prize and hopefully a life with the man she chooses or watching a gay guy ride off with the $1,000,000 and perhaps her heart.
Just as one show ends as another begins, so the greater cycle will end sooner rather than later. After all, soon it will all be done.
And undoubtedly for the best.
Bring on the documentaries.
But I shall miss the fun.

C&C

The future of the British monachy will be interesting to behold, just as the history of the British monarchy was. I watched Charles marry Diana, I watched them divorce, I watched their televised interviews, I watched Diana's funeral and yesterday I watched Charles marry Camilla - or rather I watched the next monarch of England and the commonwealth drive to and from a registery office in Windsor.
The British royal family seems to be one scandal after another.
Yesterday was a farce.
I thought, Camilla although no beauty looked her best in both her outfits, and there is something to be said for Charles, in these times when women are often judged on physical appearance. But that's as far as my positive attitude towards them goes.
They have behaved abdominally. I believe in the sacred institute of marriage. They are both adulterers and have hurt many, most significantly their respective spouses and children.
I feel, they have arrogantly stormed ahead openly conducting their love affair, but I had some respect for that. Utter defiance in the face of open distaste. And so they married. Fine. I did not expect anything else from such self-indulgent people who openly disregard the feelings of others. What I found utterly lacking in good taste was the church ceremony and request for forgiveness for sins committed.
I was surprised at my obvious outrage at their cheek. But only because it did not ring true. I do not think, they are sorry, and they have no right to ask for forgiveness, if they are do not repent actions committed.
Had they carried on as they were, arrogant and self-righteous, it would at least have been honest.
The streets of Windsor were lined with few supporters. The monarchs of Europe were conspicuously abscent. Haakon and Mette-Marit were there, perhaps because their match was unconventional too. Both their characters much admired by me, thus I would expect little else from them than to give support, where support is requested. There were apparently 2 or 3 'lesser' royals in attendence. Others much admired were present, Kenneth Branagh and Stephen Fry, but I was glad to see, whether by conscious thought or not, that Sting, Bono and Elton had sent their spouses alone - making a firm but polite statement.
Official polls seem to be half and half. Half are in favour, whilst half are either indifferent or against. 50/50 is better than they can expect, but it is also misleading. It may be age-significant. Also, it is doubtful whether, Charles and Camilla will be positive role models - rather, if anything, it is likely their lives together will continue to be strewn with bad decisions and a misplaced sense of priority.
The very thought of a Queen Camilla goes against the grain amongst many, not least the reigning Queen, if those in the apparent know have analysed correctly. Women live longer than men, and it may have flittered through many minds, the best way forward is through William. If the current Queen lives as long as her mother, she has another 22 years under her costly hat, which would see Charles approaching his 80th birthday with William in his 40's. One cannot erect a pick-and-choose monarchy, as it would be the beginnings of its downfall, so although it is any parent's greatest fear, Elisabeth may entertain the thought luck would be on the side of the monarchy for once should she outlive her son, thus shutting the door firmly on the possibility of Camilla being her successor as the or at least one of the most powerful woman in Britain.
One has to feel pity for Elisabeth, whom has tried her best to do everything by the book (although written in pencil). Being the monarch in these times of change could not have been easy and she has been critisized on occasion for allowing her family to live exhuberant lifestyles, for being too cold and such like. Its said, Camilla's most important role in Charles life, has been as his surrogate mother. Camilla's talents seem to be manifold, not least being able to snare the most eligible batchelors in England. She would probably make a fortune, should she ever decide to publish a book entitled "The idiots guide to snaring the seemingly unobtainable".
The elder generations are royalists more so in general than the youth of Britain and the commonwealth, and so as the years pass, times change and C&C likely continue to step on toes, I predict the balance will shift enormously, so that opposition to the newlyweds will only increase. The younger generations, rightly so, question everything and blind faith and loyalty will be traits more associated with the past. C&C will have to tread carefully, cowtow to the nation 'til the end of their days, and be prepared to face a flurry of anger each time, they do anything considered unbefitting within the confines of the average british mind.
Diana, though by no means a saint, has left a great legacy within the British as well as world hearts . One almost has to admire Camilla for taking on the daunting, practically impossible task of attempting to fill Diana's shoes as future Queen. Most are of the opinion, any mistakes Diana made are due to her surroundings, her situation and sins perpetrated upon her person, whereas Camilla is and always was an extremely ambitious, cool, calculated, self-serving weaver of webs.
By saying "I do" yesterday, C&C have laid the first stone on the path to an uncertain future for the British monarchy. It shall be a great testament to the character of the English people to note, how events will play themselves out.
Anyone who wants to wish them luck should do so. They are going to need it.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Escaping the darkness

Darkness reigned on that long ago morning. The beginnings of winter were approaching and she worked by the glow of the street light outside her window. Little needed to be done. The hardest part was over. The decision had been made 5 days ago, but it had taken a little while to put a plan in motion. For opportunity to present itself.
The taxi was due at 5am - much too early, but quite intentionally so. It would take her out of the city onto a better life. If not free from the past, then at least free.
She would be taking only what she could carry, leaving behind both things that didn't matter as well as things, she would miss for the rest of her days. She had no choice. She had already taken the necklace and a few photographs, and simply daren't risk anything else. In the greater scheme of things, these trinkets were unimportant.
One last thing to do, one last trip to make. A letter, a final act of opposition.
They were ready and waiting in yard, when the taxi arrived. Fear consumed her at the thought, someone would see her. In an hour or so, people she knew would begin travelling towards the journey the taxi would take. Headlights could so easily pick her out, if they were looking.
The driver talked as drivers do, and she was amazed at the calm she was able to inflict into her voice. Her name rang a bell, and when she explained to whom she was linked, he knew of whom she was speaking. The situation called for untruth. Eternity was reeled back and presented as a short holiday. The taxi journey lasted no more than 45 minutes, and the relief at having arrived was so intense, the driver had to remind her to pay.
Airports had always presented her with much excitement. In tune with standing by the open sea, endless possibilities. Today, so many other factors played in.
There were still four hours to go until her flight. They had breakfast. She seated herself, so that she may have the best view of everyone coming or going. The idea of anyone arriving here to stop her was infinitely far-fetched, but terror bred nonetheless. She wondered, if the way she was feeling on the inside was in any way discernible on the outside, but she didn't think so. Certainly no-one paid her any overt attention. She was simply a mother having breakfast with her child waiting for a flight. It amazed her. To have so many emotions raging through her, and for those surrounding to be so unaware of her predicament. How could they possibly not realize, she had just taken the bravest step of her life.
It was time to make the telephone call. She did not like having to do it. Putting someone else in the situation of having to tell a lie, although unaware of it. Yet, it couldn't be helped. It would cover her tracks, at least for the foreseeable future, perhaps even forever. She needed that. Though painful, the lie came easily to her lips. The stakes were high. Having completed the dreaded task with more ease, than she had imagined, she seated herself in the same position in time to hear the tannoys announcing a delay.
Eventually, it became time to enter the departure lounge, and she released a well-deserved sigh of relief. She felt enclosed and safer. Safer than she had in years.
For all the worry, the flight was uneventful. Likewise the train journey into the city, once she had landed. They were going to be just fine. She hoped.

Hardy's Heredity

I am the family face;
Flesh perishes, I live on,
Projecting trait and trace
Through times to times anon,
And leaping from place to place
Over oblivion.
The years-heired feature that can
In curve and voice and eye
Despise the human span
Of durance-that is I;
The eternal thing in man,
That heeds no call to die.
Thomas Hardy

Sunday, April 03, 2005

6 - part one

The Six Degrees of Separation theory by Robert Matthews has to be one of the most mind-boggling arguments ever introduced.
Many tests have been performed to prove or disprove the theory, but the general consensus seems to be, the theory has adequate basis. I like it. It rings true. But it would be great fun to test it. By email.
My first thoughts turn to the yummy Robbie Williams and the awe-inspiring Bob Geldof. In fact, I may try these also, but it should also be someone anonymous, or at least someone who would not deny the findings due to feelings of infringement.
Email makes it both simpler and harder. With over 50% of the population never having spoken on the telephone, the percentage that do not have access to the net must be astounding to those of us, who log on on a daily basis. Permission by the subject is important, if not vital to the success of the plan, and a two-way experiment would also be more fun and simultaneously double the chance of completion.
Part 1 is about to commence.
Hopefully, part 2 will be a tale of success.

People-watching versus people-touching

The greater amount of time spent together, the more we take things for granted. Hundreds of little miracles present to us each day. Children growing up in this day and age will only feel familiarity with the inventions of the generations before, the telephone, the television, aeroplanes, etc, and all the little things that make our lives much easier, the toaster, the garbage disposal, the tampon. In theory, we should be amazed each time we turn on the television and a picture pops up, each time we connect to the internet and perform a search through every web site in a matter of seconds, each time we curl and crimp and straighten our hair. We'd all walk around looking like people with one face-lift too many, permanent surprise. In reality, we take these things for granted.
What is to me amazing and thought-provoking is that people are looked upon as mere people and not as lives. Each of us makes our way through the world, each of us has a story, each of us sees different things every day, each of us has different experiences each day. There are billions of us.
Some people like to sit in cafes watching the world go by. They people-watch and make little assumptions about the lives these strangers lead for their own innocent amusement. I find it is when I am moving at great pace, most often in the back of a car, that the wonder of all of us inhabiting the same place independent of each other in the vast majority of cases overwhelms me. My eyes sometimes water as I contemplate the vastness of our world and the very small, solitary life that I lead.
The ultimate goal must be to try and touch as many lives as possible - to seek to feel as much wonder as time permits.