'My partner is SO annoying!'

I’ve seen a lot of posts about being ‘stuck’ at home with one's partner. These things often go around in the form of jokes or memes, and not just in this time of lock-down:

• My husband doesn’t pick up his socks.
• He doesn’t listen to me.
• They never empty the dryer!
• She doesn’t let me do what I want.
• All they ever want is sex!
• He’s clueless...
• She doesn’t understand me...
• Etc.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good joke/meme as much as anyone but, when I see/hear people constantly moaning about their partners, my first thought is: ‘Why are you with them if they annoy you so much?!’

My wife doesn’t annoy me, and I don’t believe she gets annoyed by me, at least not for more than a minute or two. Then, we go back to being daft, talking in stupid voices, or making jokes about death (we do that a surprising amount, really).

I’m happy we get this chance to spend more time together. Life is short (that’s why we make so many jokes about death: it’s going to happen, so we might as well have a laugh about it!). I got married to share my life with her, why would I complain now we get to spend more of that precious-little-time together?!

It doesn’t mean we don’t like to do things separately. Of course we do: she’s downstairs doing Zumba right now, while I’m thinking about whether I can squeeze in a quick game of Plague Inc. before lunch. Time apart is healthy, but don’t squander this chance to enjoy extra time together.

You never know if you’ll get the chance again.

Here's Frank, who says it better than I can:

Friends...

It's not like a popular 90s' sitcom...

Friends. They’re hard to come by. And, as we get older, it becomes even harder to find, and keep, them.

When we do find them, all too often we let them go. A band I used to listen to a lot said: ‘I lost all my friends to a lack of commitment’ (Ballboy, I gave up my eyes to a man who was blind, 2003).

I’ve been thinking about my friends – those I’ve known for  years, and those I’ve met more recently – and trying to figure out how to make sure I don’t lose them. I think everyone struggles with the same doubts: they’re probably too busy to talk; I’ll just be annoying them if I message; if they wanted to speak to me, they’d have messaged me.

The latter, of course, is a self-fulfilling prophecy. We could all end up sitting around thinking the same thing, then no one would contact anyone and we’d all lose the friends we have.

I think we’re all too quick to assume we know what’s going on in someone’s life:

‘Oh, they’re married, they won’t want to come out.’

‘We’re different ages; we’re in different life-places.’

‘They have kids, they’ll be busy.’

‘They know loads of people, they won’t need me.’

Don’t assume anything; none of us are mind-readers. Don’t assume your friends don’t like you or want to hear from you. They probably do, otherwise they wouldn’t be friends.

The friends I’ve had throughout my life have always been very important to me. I totally accept I’m needier than most and, over the years, I’ve become more aware of the need to reign it in a bit. But it’s easy to go too far, I’ve found, and never contact people at all.

Since the majority of people who read this will be my friends, it felt like this was a good way of re-launching my blog (I’ve been wanting to for a while) and getting the message out there: you guys mean a lot to me.

I don’t think it’s said enough. Don’t assume people know it.

 Elbow - Dear Friends - 2011

Love: an introduction

Love: it’s all around; it’s all you need; it will tear us apart.

In life there are many things we love: families, girlfriends/boyfriends, events, pets, pastimes...

‘I love it!’ we cry. 

And often we do – cry – because of love.

Love can sneak up on us, lift us higher than we’ve ever been before – or maybe ever will again – and bring us joy unimaginable.  And sometimes we can fall from those heights to equal – or perhaps even greater – depths, just as quickly as we fell ‘in love’.

But what is life without love?  This time of ours, marked out by birthday milestones – 30 years can pass by in a flash, and we bear the scars of loves found, lost...papered over.

Love can be unrequited (is there anything more painful?) or rejected; it can be risky and reckless, or perhaps real and rooted.

Love can lead us to so much: a new relationship, a new passion, a life of companionship, or a cherished memory.  A ‘labour of love’ could lead to a PhD, a novel, or even a new album.

You never know what the future might bring if we just ‘love’.

(My new album: 'Love?' is out this Saturday, 15th December 2012.  Check it out @ www.martinflett.net.  But don't worry, I'll post about it again next week to remind you!)

Dating and who we really are.

I love this list. I know it's a bit small,
but hopefully you can click it and zoom in?!

Every so often I get to iron my best shirt, have a second shower of the day, put on some cologne, do my hair (or what’s left of it), and take some poor, unsuspecting lucky girl out for dinner.

I reckon I’m pretty good at the whole ‘first date’ thing.  The logistics are simple enough: book a nice (non-chain, naturally) restaurant, make sure you have enough cash to pay the bill, show up on time, etc. 

And then comes the date itself: assuming we’re not hermits, by the time we reach adulthood we have plenty of life-history to talk through – how could we possibly struggle to find things to say?  There are family holidays, or maybe time spent studying, or career choices, or future hopes and dreams – plenty of questions to ask and topics to bring up.  I’m not saying sit there like some quiz show host, firing off questions, but pick some that will start a conversation.  Generally, I believe people will like someone who lets them talk about themselves.

But, alas, in spite of all my confidence at the first date stage, my relationships have, thus far, not lasted.  And that’s because life is not one continual first date.

A date takes considerable effort and energy, and I tend to fall in to the trap of trying to keep up that level of intensity for weeks...months...even years.  Inevitably, it’s going to fail.  I’m going to get tired and the ‘perfection’ will crash and burn. 

I think this links with being uncomfortable about showing someone our real selves.  On a first date, we want to make a good/perfect impression; we want them to think we’re amazing.  And that’s achievable – for one night.  However, we can’t be ‘perfect’ forever; the real ‘us’ needs to be good enough too.

And in order for it to be good enough for someone else, it has to be good enough for ourselves.  Otherwise we’ll never be willing to show it, and never get out of the cycle of trying to be perfect. 

Someone suggested once I may even sabotage my relationships myself from the inside.  I don’t know whether it’s true but, if it is, it could be because I can’t deal with the prospect of not being ‘perfect’.  As I say, I don’t know.

Accepting who we are and that we do have some very good traits, worth putting up with the not-so-great ones for, is a really healthy state of mind, I think.  Let’s try and work towards it. 

Then I/we might be able to stop continually trying so hard with everyone I/we meet.

Living alone and remembering small achievements.

I’ve been slowly trying to think more positively* over the last week or so, and something struck me about being someone who lives alone.

A few years ago I realised the obvious: all the jobs in my house – washing up, laundry, vacuuming etc – if I don’t do them, they don’t get done.  On one hand, that’s clearly self-evident but, on the other hand, it’s not true for people who live with others.  For them, at some point, someone else will probably do at least one of the jobs, at least once.  In my house, that will never happen.

When I first thought like that, it was quite a depressing and tiresome thought.

But I realised the other day that, because I have to take care of everything in my house/life, I am able to take care of everything in my house/life.  Take yesterday: I had a flat tyre, which I had to change and get repaired.  I then had to cook a meal, and do some laundry and ironing.  Later on, I had a problem with my electrics: something blew and tripped the fuse-box.  So I figured out which appliance was faulty, and of course located the fuse-box to trip it back.  I also found time to pick up my guitar and play some tunes.

I’m not trying to make any of this sound more than it is; I realise none of these things are rocket science.  But, the point is, I suddenly became quite pleased to be someone who can do all those things.  Without meaning to be sexist or anything, I don’t think every man knows how to use a car-jack, play a musical instrument, and how to make a decent meal.  (I can even cook quite well when I put my mind to it or there’s someone to impress!)

One of the things I learned in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) a couple of years ago is not to downplay the positives in life.  Suffering with Depression usually means it’s easy to believe the victories in our own lives are in some way less than those of everyone else.  I have made progress over the last few weeks – I’m no longer sat in my GP’s office in tears for starters; I can do quite a lot of things, some of them even pretty well.  Sure, I’m not yet ‘happy’, or even ‘okay’, but it’s a start, and that’s worth recognising.

Stopping to remember the achievements or progress we have made – though they/it may be small – can be an important step on the long road to recovery.  It even starts to breed hope of further improvement/achievement in the future, and that really is something to feel better about.

*The small print for this post is that all this has coincided with the sort of time we’d expect my increased medication to have started having an effect ... It seems The Verve were wrong...

Love Does.

I’ve raved about this book for a while now, and I finished it this week.  Love Does, by Bob Goff (2012, Thomas Nelson), is incredible.  It’s filled with stories of how Bob has spent his life loving people – and I mean really loving them. 

There are few tales of hearts, flowers, or poetry, but many of him taking off on flights to Uganda to help free imprisoned children.  Or of him letting people into his life in whatever way they need.  Or of refusing to give up on a dream because he knows it’s what he would love to do.

Even the one chapter on the pursuit of his now-wife is a tale of unrelenting hope, of choosing to keep on loving ‘Sweet Maria’, in spite of her apparent disinterest.  He tells the story of being ‘trigger-locked (on her) while she treated me with a polite distance’. 

In the end though, he says: ‘Fortunately, Maria understood that for some of us – most of us – the language of love is laced with whimsy.  It sometimes borders on the irrational.  Like I’ve been saying, though, love is a do thing.  It’s an energy that has to be dissipated.’  ((I would say love almost always borders on the irrational, but there you go.)

Bob is a Christian and writes as such, including many references to how he believes his faith impacts on his chosen path.  But it’s not a cringe-inducing faith, or even a faith particularly recognisable as being the same as is often seen in ‘the Church’.  So please don’t be put off by it!

Why am I telling you about this book?  Because as I’ve read it, it kept resonating with me, with who I am trying to be.  I, too, believe that ‘love does’ – love is above all else a verb, and the only way to show it is to do something with it. 

That can mean being there at 3am for someone when everyone’s had enough.  Or it can mean taking the hit when they need to rant at ... someone.  Or it can mean ignoring how much something is hurting, because the person needs you to be strong for them.

It can even mean turning up and doing a job we really don’t feel like doing today, because it will benefit someone else in need.

Most of this is pretty contrary to popular opinion.  Many people counsel to ‘look after yourself’, to make sure we’re not going to get hurt.  And whilst that might seem like wisdom, it isn’t the way of love as I understand it.

Love puts the other person first, regardless of cost.  And sometimes the cost is high but, even so, I believe love goes right ahead and does it anyway.

Love Does is available from Amazon here.

Life is not something that happens in the future, life is what we’re doing right now.

An old boss/current friend of mine once asked me what I wanted to do with my life.  I replied: ‘What do you mean?  This is it; this is my life.  I’m doing it, now.’

It seems to me we can often think of our lives as something we’ll do another day.  Maybe it’s about a career we’ll pursue or a relationship we yearn for.  We might be waiting till we can get married, or have kids, or move away from home, or get that dream job – whatever.  I know I’ve had times when I’ve been guilty of treading water, waiting for some day when I can ‘be what I want to be’.

But that’s a waste of where we are now.  There’s so much life out there for us, so much to see, so much to do, so many people to meet.  What if the thing you’re waiting for never happens?  Would you miss out on everything else while you wait for it, maybe forever?

I gave a friend some advice a long time ago – she was single and not happy about it.  We talked about it often and I came up with the idea we should live as though we’ll never get married – don’t put life on hold till we can do things with someone special, because that someone might never appear. 

Live your life, do the things you wish you could do.  Don’t be held back by things you don’t have.  And if there is someone in your life who you want to do them with, then be sure to invite them along for the ride.  Or if it’s that thing you know you’ve always wanted to do with your life, then grasp it with both hands, do it with all your heart and never give it up.

(More Switchfoot, I'm afraid!)

'This is your life.  Are you who you want to be?' - Switchfoot.

The memories we make are our greatest treasure.

I’ve been listening to one album pretty much exclusively the last few days.  (Those of you who know me will know there’s a lot of time for this: tram journeys, hours spent in my house, even odd hours marshalling charity events.) 

When I was thinking about this blogpost, one song in particular stood out:

‘I close my eyes and go back in time, I can see you smiling, you’re so alive.’ – Switchfoot.

I’ve written before about losing things, and missing them (The Value of a Moment and, Taking Risks.) – relationships, connections to places, the ‘good old days’.  This happens to me a lot, and it’s something I worry about: what if I lose the things I’m attached to now?  How will I cope? 

This kind of thinking could even stop me/us doing something, stepping out, starting ... anything.  What if it goes wrong?  What if s/he breaks up with me?  What if I end up hurt or disappointed?  We can start to think it’s not worth the risk.

But what kind of life would that be?  One where we don’t do anything, don’t try anything, don’t make any connections or ties because we might lose them?  A life spent entirely without ever having any of the things we ‘might lose’: how would that make us happy?

Recently, I’ve been making a lot of memories I know will stay with me forever.  Should things change and I lose things I’m really attached to then, sure, I’ll be devastated.  But I’ll always have the memories, the knowledge I was part of something amazing. 

I can keep those memories on a shelf in my mind, take them down, examine them, remember them, and smile, thinking: Wow! ... I was there!   I’ll certainly be extremely sad not to still ‘be there’ but a) it’s not certain I won’t be, and b) I’m glad I’m here now. 

Truthfully, I do get terrified about losing things/people I love because I’m not sure how I would cope.  But, just as there are no guarantees something will last, there are no guarantees it won’t.  ‘Every minute of the future isn’t written...’ as Jason Mraz puts it (Everything is Sound, 2012).  Don’t we want to find out?

The connections and memories we make are our greatest treasure.  Find some, make some, enjoy them.  May they last forever...

Being real and being a 'hero'.

Today, let’s start with a song:

I love that song; it’s filled with meaning and honesty.  The music betrays the lyrics, beautifully highlighting the lie of Regina’s words because, the truth is, we all need ‘saving’, I guess.  We spend our time faking it, pretending we have it all together, acting like we don’t need anyone or anything, but I don’t believe that’s true of anyone.

A friend of mine said recently: ‘That’s all any of us are doing really: trying to go as long as possible without getting “found out”.’  I.e. if people saw who we were really, even for just five minutes, they might never want to know us again.

I don’t really believe that’s true either, even though I allow myself to live by it all too often.

I think when we do allow someone in to see the real ‘us’, in those moments of connection I mentioned in my last post, rather than finding rejection or ridicule, we can discover we’re not the only ones.  

Everyone has their ‘demons’, their doubts, their self-deprecation: that internal dialogue unendingly telling us we’re not good enough, no-one will love us, we have nothing to offer.  (The other week I said it’d be really cool if we could get celebrity voices to ‘do’ our internal dialogues – sort of like those apps for Sat Nav systems.  I quite like the idea of John Cleese doing mine.)

It’s hard, really hard.  And in letting someone in, we make ourselves vulnerable, and that can hurt sometimes.  But the rewards can be greater; sometimes we can find a ‘hero’, or even be one for someone else.

And who doesn’t want that?

Making a connection.

Connecting with people is what we’re all about.  I believe it’s an essential part of being alive.  Many people search for that ‘one’ connection, while others are happy to connect with many.  I think very few people are happy with solitude, at least not for very long.

I’ve heard it said recently that we’re in touch with people much more often than ever before – it’s ‘too much’, apparently.  And I often hear how tools such as Facebook and Twitter are generating false connections, or the appearance of relationship without the depth or benefits of ‘traditional’ methods of knowing people.

I disagree with most of that.  I think the more ways there are of connecting with people, the better, and, as someone who lives alone, I’m constantly pleased to have so many different ways of keeping in touch.  I love text messages, emails, Facebook-chats, and the odd phone call. 

If we all want to connect with other human beings, how can it be a bad thing to have so many ways of doing it?  I accept that many of the people I have as ‘friends’ on Facebook don’t really know me, and vice versa.  But they know me more than they would if we weren’t on there, especially those who live some distance away. 

Of course, the people I see in ‘real life’ probably know me better still, and I feel immensely privileged to have made at least one fantastic, deep connection recently that I hope will only grow stronger still and last throughout the years.  Such connections can affirm who we are; they can bring light into otherwise mundane days; they can foster joy in unlikely moments. 

Those ‘kindred spirits’ (as one of my friend’s terms them) are one of life’s true delights, and who’s to say where we might meet them?  Perhaps they’re on your Facebook right now, or maybe waiting for a text message, or, sure, they might be heading down the pub for the evening, ready to bump into you over the quiz machine.

However and wherever, reaching out to another person can rarely be a bad thing.  So why not make a connection right now?  You never know where it might lead...

All you need is love.

I’m reading a book about love at the moment.  It’s not a dating book, or a romance novel, but it is about loving people.

I don’t believe in half-hearted love; I don’t think there can be such a thing.  Love is many things, but it is not apathetic.  I had a beautiful conversation the other day (you know – the kind when you talk about everything, get a little deep, pull back the curtains of small talk and connect with another person for real) and it came up that the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.  (Wikiquote tells me Elie Wiesel said it first, whoever that is...)

I also don’t believe we can love everyone; the heart wants what it wants*.  I sometimes wonder if there is a wilder beast in the world than the heart.  Soldier is a song by Ingrid Michaelson and she says: ‘The battle with the heart isn’t easily won ... but it can be won.’

Love is not rational.  That is something I truly believe.  Love should be ridiculous, pointless, whimsical, without thought of consequence, or of getting anything in return.  We should love without reason, even without hope sometimes, wildly, recklessly, passionately. 

I reckon loving in this way is a magnificent, exciting adventure.  It’s a rollercoaster, with ups, downs, crazy loops and almost unbearable forces at times.  And yeah, it's scary sometimes, but I think when you look back, even if you weren’t loved in return, you’ll know you truly lived.

Interesting that those two words are only one letter different, don’t you think?

*I do think we can be loving towards everyone but, in this context, that’s not the same as loving them...

‘Come and get your heart broken...and mended...and...ermmmmm...broken again...’ – Andi Wolf.

Wolf and Lockerby's Vanity Circus

I’m sitting here listening to a new EP from my best mate.  The title of this post was his tagline on Facebook for the recording.  He has a way with words, right?!

I hope he doesn’t mind me using his line, because it got me thinking: it’s what happens, isn’t it?  You fall in love, get your heart broken, patch it up with whatever bits of sticky tape and string you can find, before doing it all again. 

I’ve no idea what Andi thinks of my writing, so I hope he’s okay with me commenting on his work!  But every now and again some tunes come along that capture a moment, a feeling, and are so appropriate to the situation we find ourselves in. 

It’s something about being human: we all share the same experiences.  Which is why a song written so personally, with maybe only one person in mind, can apply to ... well ... everyone sometimes. 

Martin Clayton, writing about The Beatles’ song Hey Jude, said:

‘It is possible for almost any listener to relate to it personally.  For John (Lennon) and for Paul (McCartney) it may have resonated with the difficult circumstances of their own personal relationships, but which of us has not been through the break-up of a close relationship, or some other comparable trauma?  Paradoxically, this intimacy – the singer apparently speaking directly to each listener – helps create a mass appeal.’ (Clayton, 2007, in Words and Song, The Open University, p. 11.)

Wolf and Lockerby have achieved that here. 

Check out the new EP For When It Hurts...  from Wolf and Lockerby’s Vanity Circus.

http://soundcloud.com/vanitycircus/sets/for-when-it-hurts

And find them on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/wolfandlockerbysvanitycircus

The Boulevard of Broken Blogs.

Some of the things I write for this blog aren’t good enough and don’t get posted (just in case you thought there was no quality control).

But here are some of the best bits from the past year of those that didn’t make the cut:

On being creative:

Bambi and The Chopper is coming along nicely, as nonsensical as that particular project is!  I sometimes think that’ll be the one that ‘makes it’ – the one that I wrote on a whim.  Isn’t that how it goes?  (Jason Mraz – I’m Yours, for example!)

*

In fiction writing, I was taught to give characters seemingly conflicting traits, like being shy and an attention seeker, because that’s what people are like in real life.  And it’s obviously true; no one is one dimensional.

*

On life in the early days in Nottingham:

I don’t like Nottingham – city of sirens – and I don’t mean the hot mermaid type.  Seriously, I’ve never heard as many ambulances/police cars anywhere.  And I’m from Bradford.  And used to work in a hospital. 

*

Other bits and pieces:

Life never stays the same.  Deal with those things you can control, the rest will happen anyway.

*

No-one should have the responsibility of ‘making you happy’.

*

My first thoughts in a morning:

7am: No way am I getting up yet.

8am: Can I get away with not getting up?

8.15am: Ok. I really have to get up now.

8.20am: Crap! I’m gonna be late!

*

There are many things I have often taken for granted, like cool places I go to, happy memories, or being creative.  I never imagine living without them; I would hate to.

Now I want to spend more time/energy on those important things, and develop more, because, here’s the thing: they may not be around forever.  Arthritis, memory loss, or a good old fashioned bulldozer could wipe them out in an instant.   

And then I’d wish I’d appreciated them more.

Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams

That lovin' feelin'.

In British culture we don’t really go in for ‘touchy-feely’, which I think is a shame because I’m quite a tactile person.  It’s something (else) I miss about Leamington: the standard greeting was a kiss on the cheek with the ladies (or two, if you remembered they were from mainland Europe) and a proper manly hug with your guy friends.  (I’m sure this isn’t limited to Leamington and maybe time will bring it out in Nottingham.)  

The 5 Love Languages is quite a popular book/concept.  And it’s one I like: the idea that we each show and feel love better in particular ways.  You can read more about it here, but the list of so-called ‘languages’ is: 

• Words of affirmation
• Quality time
• Receiving gifts
• Acts of service
• Physical touch

For me, physical touch, quality time and words of affirmation are the most important.  I’m not so bothered about gifts (though they’re always nice...) or acts of service (the washing up can wait until tomorrow, let’s cuddle instead!).  In fact, physical touch is probably my top one.  After all, it usually covers ‘quality time’ as well – you can’t hug someone without being with them!

It’s not just in relationships though.  Research suggests that physical contact is very important generally in human beings: without it, we can become stunted socially, emotionally and mentally.  I certainly find spending too much time on my own erodes my self-esteem, as though my brain starts to wonder what’s wrong with me that is making people not want to be close. 

But maybe that’s not such a big deal for people with, say, receiving gifts in their top three instead. 

I’d recommend thinking about what your particular ‘languages’ are.  I found it helpful in understanding ‘me’, as well as being a practical tool for relating to others.  (Plus, it’s kinda fun if you like those quiz-questionnaire type things!)

And maybe overcome your ‘Britishness’ and give your friends a huge hug next time you see them.  You might both feel better for it.

Meeting people, and the value of a moment.

One shiny moment might be
all we have.

Sometimes we meet people, spend time with them, and bounce off them.  Our orbits may never take us close again; perhaps those hours/weeks/months with someone will be all we ever have with them.

I think many of us believe in an idea of ‘forever’ within our relationships/friendships.  We, on some level, expect we’ll always be friends with the people we know, those we meet.  It’s almost as if, in order to be ‘meaningful’, something must last forever.  And sometimes it will.  But most of the time it won’t.

As I get older I seem to be becoming more of an optimist (I know...).  I used to always get upset about losing touch with people, or not making a stronger ‘connection’ with someone.  I would focus on missing them, or on the ‘what might have been’.

But it doesn’t have to be like that; a friendship or relationship doesn’t have to be forever to be meaningful.  That person was there for a time, and it was good.  Don’t undervalue that.

That’s not to say we shouldn’t grieve for things we lose, but there comes a time to let it go or else we might lose the good in it too.

I think this ties in a little with my ‘Let’s talk about sex’ post about savouring the memories and smiling about them often.  Every friendship and relationship, whether it’s for a few minutes or many years, was worth something for that moment.   And isn’t that what life is: a collection of moments? 

If we had even just one that shone with someone, it’s worth celebrating.  Keep those moments for what they were and leave what they ‘could have been’ to the fantasists. 

Enjoy the reality; there’ll be other shiny-moments ahead you don’t want to miss.

Let's talk about sex...

I’m not one of those guys who walks into a bar and girls go: ‘Oh my God, he’s so hot ... I need to change my knickers.’ 

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m a bad looking guy, I’m just sort of ... ordinary.  And I’m not only looking for sex either, definitely don’t get me wrong about that.  Perhaps my post is mis-titled and this is really about loneliness. 

But sometimes sex can feel like the answer to loneliness.  And, even if it’s not, it can feel like a good substitute.

I suppose I’ve been lucky in love more times than some; I have happy memories of times spent in the arms of a girl, be that on a coach trip, on the sofa, or elsewhere.  But I’m getting older, and I would like to have times like that – and, yes, sex too – again at some point in my life.

Generally it’s not safe to assume that everyone in a bar/club/coffee shop/sitting on a train/walking down the street is as ... keen to meet someone.  (I deleted a whole range of adjectives before settling on ‘keen’ including: ‘lonely’, ‘desperate’, and ‘horny’!)   So you put out feelers, test the water, and it’s usually cold.  Tepid at best.  So what's a guy to do?

People tell me: ‘You’ll meet someone when you’re not looking!’  Those people annoy me, really.  More than ants in my kitchen (but less than spiders in my bedroom).  How is someone supposed to stop looking for something they earnestly want?

If those people lost their keys, how would they feel if I said they’d turn up if they'd only stop looking for them?

As a solution to all this, I’m trying to accept that maybe my time for this has been and gone.  Perhaps those ‘loves’ I’ve had are all I am to have.  So, I’m savouring the memories, smiling about them often, and concentrating on what life has left for me now, such as writing, music and getting rid of ants, apparently.  (Fortunately I don't have a spider problem in this flat, but if they should ever rear their ugly heads again, I'll be ready.)

If you are in a relationship, or even just having sex with any sort of regularity, enjoy it, and keep hold of it for as long as you can.  Because, as JD says: 'No one understands how important sex is better than someone who isn’t having it.'

(Sorry for the long clip again, it’s really only from 4 mins 40 secs I wanted!)

Random thoughts from my trip.

Looking out over Findochty.

Followers of this blog will know that this week I’ve been to see one of my ancestral homes: Findochty, Scotland.  The trip was about two things: visiting the place itself, and going on a long train journey – something I fancied doing. 

                                             

Below are a few of my thoughts during the last few days.  Some of them are a bit personal, some a bit morbid, and some of them a bit amusing.  Enjoy.

In Findochty:

• I wonder if the increased desire to discover my family of old is due to me getting older and beginning to accept the decreasing likelihood of ever starting a new family of my own.
• In writing, it’s easy to feel constrained by the ‘canvas’ we choose, such as the tense or ‘person’ we’re writing in.  But each one has its own advantages too.  Life can be a bit like that as well: we might not always be happy with aspects of our selves/lives, but there may be advantages we’ve missed.
• There’s a strange feeling when you finally do something you’ve been planning for years.  Now you’ve done it, what now?
• Making a trip like this isn’t just about the trip, it’s about the stories you hear from family.  Stories that probably never would have been told had you not gone.  Like the one about my Granda as a 14 year old boy, jumping off the quay at Buckie and running away on his Dad’s fishing boat...
• I didn’t remember anything about Findochty from my last visit as a ‘wee bairn’.  But I am proud to have my heritage in such a beautiful place.

On the train:

• In the time I spent travelling to Findochty on a train, I could’ve been in Beijing by plane...
• Sometimes things can feel like destiny or fate – like being sat near the same person twice on different trains.  But really, it’s just Maths.
• There’s a certain unspoken trust between people on trains.  You can leave your bag to use the facilities and be fairly sure no one will touch it.  Coffee shops are similar.  Why is this?  And why do we fear the worst of people in other places?
• I seem to listen to music or read books by people I wish I was like.  Do other people do this?
• There’s a certain way that we novel-readers on trains look down on the magazine readers...
• On trains, planes or other public transport, we’re all thrown together. If there was an accident, these are the people we would spend our last moments with.  We spend years looking for the right person to grow old with, to die with, when it could all come down to random chance in a moment like this.
• And last, but certainly not least, this: 

(Apologies for the long clip, but it’s all I could find!  

You should watch the whole movie anyway, it’s truly beautiful.)

'In a relationship...' *

I thought I’d take a little time out from the recent focus on my employment status (and emotional state!) to say something about my relationship status.

It probably didn’t go unnoticed, if you have been following my blog for a while, that I am in a relationship after a period of singleness.

At first the news was greeted with some derision by some of my friends because of my posts about staying single etc. But those posts were never about ‘staying single’ for the sake of it. They were about the amount of thought-time and energy I was using to find the right person.

Then, along came Steph, kind of out of the blue, from somewhere I never imagined I would meet someone ‘compatible’. Funny how these things work out.

There I was, thinking I was happy being single, when along came this utterly delightful, enchanting young lady who has taken my world, a world that, largely, I was happy with, and shown it to have actually been lacking something – someone – so...integral, who I never even knew.

(I’m very aware that she’ll probably read this, which is a bit weird for me as I try to be honest but not say anything that she’ll a) think is purely for her benefit or b) scare her!)

I wanted to outline some of the differences between being single and being in a relationship. Things that I hadn’t really thought about before: I’d expected there to be good and bad points to being part of a couple but, really, I can only think of good things. (Aside from the realisation of just how selfish I’d become, which was/is a difficult thing to see, but is undoubtedly a good thing to improve upon!)

I’m hoping that this post doesn’t come across as, ‘Hey, look at me, I’ve got a girlfriend!!’ I know that, if ‘single-me’ had read this, I’d have probably immediately been bitter towards the smug-coupled-up-person. So I want to say that life was good whilst I was single, I was happy that way...and if you are feeling that bitterness, then I understand and I’d say try and find things that you love to do. Work on being the person you’d like to be. While you wait for ‘someone’, start to live; fill your days building the foundations of a future – whether you remain single or not.

And then, one not very significant day, maybe someone extraordinary might just waltz in and re-paint your life with such vivid colours, that it’ll make the grey-wait entirely worthwhile.

And, if they don’t, you’ll still have your own dreams in the making.

Alternatively, roll your eyes, tut, utter things like, 'Easy for you to say,' and close your browser...it's probably what I would have done!

*Credit to Stephanie Angus (aka ‘other-Steph’) for this post-title - she used it first!

Thinking about things.

Inside my brain!

Taking my lead from Jo Swinney, as I so often seem to do, this blog post is an insight into some of the things on my mind. You can read about the things on Jo’s mind here.

I am waiting to hear about a million jobs I’ve applied for, most interestingly one I just sent off today. Am really excited about that one – watch this space!

I am (very) happy about being in a relationship with Steph. She’s awesome in many ways. Hopefully you’ll meet her one day, or maybe I’ll get her to write a guest post sometime...

I am grateful for having time and ability to pursue many different interests, such as this blog, my uni course, music and Dr Who! And I am very grateful for my family and those friends who are just always...there, no matter what. Thank you.

I am working on my final assignment for my latest Open Uni module, as well as job applications, a couple of short stories and my non-fiction project (which I really should explain a little more about sometime!). I am also working on worrying less about silly things, and not stressing as much!

I am enjoying simply being alive, to be honest, most of the time anyway. (Crap. I’ve become one of those people, haven’t I?!) And I’m definitely enjoying getting to know S and spending time with her.

I think this is a good exercise – invariably I spend too much time considering the negative things on my mind, so it’s nice to stop and deliberately remember there’s a lot of positive stuff in there too.

What kind of things are filling your brian (sic)?

Learn to laugh (at yourself).

I think buying matching 'laugh' plaques
 is a good way to start any relationship!

Recently I began a relationship with a wonderful girl. (Hurrah!) But that’s not what this is about...

A good friend of mine offered me some advice prior to the beginning of said relationship. He said: ‘Take her out, go for coffee, laugh.’ For some reason, it was the final piece of advice that stuck the most.

Laughter is the best medicine. It can diffuse many tensions, let people know you’re not upset, and, more importantly, it’s fun!

But there’s something else: Rob Bell (again!) at Greenbelt said we really need to learn to laugh at ourselves, because, if we don’t, we’re just going to take everything to heart and end up hurt a lot more than we need to be (or something like that anyway).

I know I’m a bit unusual in some ways, and I take pride in that – ‘It’s all about the quirk’, I say. And I make stupid mistakes, like taking a load of large cardboard boxes to the recycling centre right before going to collect something packaged...in a large cardboard box. (Doh!) I could have gotten annoyed at the waste of time, but, actually, it’s quite funny – better I laugh at it, than someone else does when I’m feeling frustrated and annoyed!

The final thing I think about laughter is: we shouldn’t take life too seriously. We’re not here that long, let’s have fun while we are! Do silly things, just for the hell of it: sing Christmas songs in July; wear daft glasses – or a fez – on family occasions; play the wash-board at jam nights.

Take photos of it all and then, in years to come, laugh at it again.