CONFESSIONS

The word confession provokes a myriad of thoughts and possibilities, not the least of which is the one related to a specific religion. Not holding to any religion myself, other than believing in humanity, if that can be called a religion, I spend my effort and time in reading about other people's lives, in the hope of understanding them better. I write about a few too. Since first at school I have been a reader of the classics and have learned much from them about the human condition in general and what makes specific characters tick. Austen, Shakespeare, Dickens, Homer, Hardy and so on. Some stories are easy to read while others prove difficult. It was only after sharing the reading with a group of friends that I eventually waded through James Joyce, which taught me a fair bit about the Ireland that Joyce lived in. As a student I read and re read John Steinbeck and loved the way he created the lives of ordinary people and their struggles, as well as their joys. (In later years I have trouble concentrating on Steinbeck, which says more about me than the author.) I am currently reading The Slap and simultaneously reading This is Happiness, two books with totally different writing styles, as well as very different stories. One is like being dragged to your feet and shouted at, as it focuses heavily on modern family life in Australia, with all of its frantic and often ambiguous messages about how life ought to be lived. The other book is like being gently seated in a comfy sofa, sipping lemon tea and, perhaps, smoking a cigarette, and listening to the resurfaced memories of the narrator about a past era in a village in Ireland. Times were more gently, activities harder on the body and poverty abounded and yet, the characters who people this book certainly offer up glimpses into what made them tick, what made them human and, in a way, misunderstood. Both authors are excellent story tellers. Both books offer insights into what it is to be human. Which story and/or style is preferred depends upon numerous things, not to be discussed here.

 And so to the confession. War and Peace, that classic tome that was declared to be the longest book and the biggest story ever. Or so it seemed to me. Many times I have begun to read it, many times I have skimmed through it yet  never have I completed it from beginning to end. Yet, I feel I must know the story properly. I must get under the skin of these long-ago characters. But what  a book!  I have purchased an adaptation of the story on film. A DVD is winging its way to me this very moment. I just hope it is true to the original story and not filled with half truths and full on lies, as so many modern versions of the past are. Do I feel guilty at not reading the book? I confess I do. Will I enjoy the story as told on the DVD? Yet to be proven. Any story is a story about other people and so we should all learn something from that.

A FEW WORDS ON BUSHFIRES

When I was at school...way back in the dark ages according to the young people who know me- learning my mother tongue, English, included knowing of nouns, verbs, adverbs and adjectives, what they were and how to use them. At some point schools stopped using the names for adverbs and adjectives, instead referring to them as  descriptors. (I have no idea what schools call them these days) In any case, no matter what the name given to these words, they add a huge amount to whatever verb or noun is being described.

The word bushfires, for instance. Over the course of the past few months the bushfires that have raged throughout Australia have had so many words used about them. Commentators, journalists, leaders of organisations called out to combat them, those volunteers at the front, victims, survivors, people in the street, in fact people all around the world, have offered up a vast selection of words to help to describe what happens when bushfires hit. So many words:  terrifying, disastrous, tragic, frightening, extreme, incredible, unbelievable, scary, abnormal,indiscriminate, distressful, crippling, dangerous, all expressing what can be concluded as catastrophic for both individuals and the country.

Then come the words that describe another side of the event: dedicated firies, selfless volunteers,  magnificent heroes, grateful survivors,  enthusiastic helpers, generous donors, calm comforters, energetic drivers of bulldozers and trucks, health professionals, helicopter pilots, gift givers, and, eventually, those who have to be almost dragged to make an announcement that promises some form of compensation.

Words such as blame, climate denial, burn offs, ecology, economics, fossil fuels, water loss, drought and bad management, linger in the air, waiting for the bushfires to cease and for the rebuilding of buildings and lives to begin, before any serious discussion goes ahead.

Of course, within the year there will be memories and grieving and loss and repercussions and debate about cause and effect, none of which will help those worst affected but eventually the remembrances will fade and life will carry on until the next catastrophic event. Yet, maybe the words that should remain on everyone's lips are climate change and community spirit. If nothing else these are the words that should assist Australia, and perhaps the world, to comprehend the two most important things we need to cling to and act upon, if we humans wish to survive.
💓

WHAT DO I SAY?

WHAT DO I SAY? A frequent enough question. Context is all of course.

Listening to people wishing others a 'Happy Xmas' and reading endless variations on cards and posters and gift tags, it makes me wonder if any word can become meaningless if uttered enough times. Think of commercial advertising or the spin from politicians around the world., much of which is lately classified, quite rightly, as lies. Does repetition change a meaning or simply cover it up with such a generality that it becomes almost banal?
When wishes are given with sincerity they are meaningful but how many "Have a good day's" do we have to endure as being commercial spin that has absolutely no true sincerity at all. The persons using the phrase are, I expect, sincere in wishing to remain employed and so spout whatever is required of them. Out of pomposity or compassion I often make a point of entering into a meaningful conversation with the checkout person, or staff in any environment, just to give them a few more words to savour and to speak words other than those dictated by either conformity or necessity. This can happen while bags are being packed and need only last a few moments but it is truly satisfying to see at least a modicum of pleasure from the participants in the two way exchange of words.

So, do I mean what I say when I talk in this friendly manner to virtual strangers?  Definitely, yes. Do they in turn smile with frankness? Almost every time I would say,  yes. The corners of mouths lift in a way different to when the "And how are you today?' or "Have a good day" spin words are asked.

So to anyone reading this blog I sincerely wish you a year filled with contentment and good health. A year where contemplation can be slipped in with a busy life and words are used meaningfully,no matter what the context. And may you buy as many books as you can afford, mine included, please.

I would also like to encourage readers to fill in their email address so they receive my few words on a fairly regular basis in their inbox. Or please do make comments. My blogs are pretty philosophical but they really do require comments, a two way conversation, an exchange of words. So, I look forward to more of that in 2020.

WORDS FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS

It is soon to be yet another Christmas celebration and all manner of words are floating about in commercial advertisements and marketing,  by both supermarket,online businesses and churches and yet,few speak the words of the compassion and remembrance of self sacrifice that surely a religious celebration of this manner should discuss. I confess (a word associated very much with one brand of religion) that I do not belong to any religion and in many respects find many words and actions of the mainstream religions offensive. As for Creationism, I find that sinister and foolish when science has answered most questions concerning how we humans came to be. Evolution is an irrefutable fact. I recently watched one of those fabulous TV shows, narrated by David Attenborough, (who else) and once more noted how one particular species of chimpanzee were behaving and my words to my co watcher were "you can see how and why we (humans) are only 5per cent apart from these animals. " There was both good behaviour and not so nice behaviour, which applies to most creatures,us included. The big difference being language of course. While most animals have some way of communicating it is only us who use words in every day situations, everyday of our lives, with yes, a few exceptions. And this is where the special words come in. Do people use words of friendship and kindness in sufficient quantity to ever make the "Peace on earth Christmas  slogan ever come true? Sure we all send off the words in our cards, or with our online images. or even in words spoken across phones and ipads. Do we mean them? Do we do anything to enact the possibility of peace on earth for all? Therein lies the rub. Words can come cheap. $2 cards. Cheap online messages. Even cheap phone calls (overseas ones) if we pick our times. 
😍s a writer of stories I often wonder if I take more care of the fictional characters I create than the people around me,. Not those close to me, for their continual presence determines the special words required. I mean those I see only occasionally, those I pass in the street shopping, those I see huddled against walls, those in stress in various situations, crying children, mourning elderly, bewildered middle aged and confused youth, all  no doubt longing for a few special words to be cast their way. So  this holiday we must not just speak the word peace, we must do something to bring it about.   😇😇😇😇😇😇😇

WORDS ARE ALL I HAVE

There are no words to express the annoyance at myself for the difference between how often I intend to write a blog and how often I actually do!  I am, therefore, writing this time in a larger font than usual, to make the point that large or small, words are all I have to express the way I feel. Or, in fact, how anyone feels when it is transferred via a screen or a paper back. And this is why writers of all genres and persuasions often struggle when writing emotions and thoughts for a character who is so different to themselves. I know I certainly do struggle, well perhaps struggle is too strong a word. I do work very hard at it. I listen and look and learn about other people every day of my life. I do my best to understand and experience is certainly the best teacher,whether first or second hand. To step into the shoes of another person is the ultimate way to comprehend them. To go through what they do, to see how they survive in the world is a good lesson in how we all differ, even if fundamentally being similar, if not the same. Then, once understanding occurs, writing about it is that much easier. 
There has been much debate, often heated, about who can write about whom and whether there are some people's experiences and reactions to them, that cannot or should not be written about by someone. I disagree. A writer, whether a journalist or a writer of fiction, must have the freedom to write about anything and anyone. That is true freedom of speech. It does not matter whether it is about race, gender, a belief system, culture or specific behaviours. The pursuit of and exposure of a trait is a fundamental democratic right. 
Of course, it is HOW the writing is done that has its obligations and responsibilities. Of course, there must be honesty and integrity and a sensitivity to a belief system but there should not be any prescriptive no-go areas. If there are, we into the realms of 1984 and, indeed, Animal Farm. So, of course, excellent research is an absolute necessity in discovering what makes another person tick before the first word is written.  And I have run out of space for more words, although I have many other words to offer!😉

NEVER TOO LATE.....SO THEY SAY

Here I am again...later than I wanted to be...under pressure from the clock....well more the pressure from myself ...always busy doing something..usually something worthwhile, like writing or reading or making up stories in my head.  and yet...not getting down to writing on my Blog is a bit naughty. Any followers I do have might be waiting my next pitch...but today all I can say is that after recently  writing a short play, THE LAST PARTY, which is soon to be staged and beginning to plan the production of my full length play, SOFT MURDER, early next year and having just sent off my latest novel, VAGUELY INDECENT,  for an editor to peruse, my brain is swimming in ideas and thoughts, all jumbled. I need a few days/weeks to calm it down so that it can once more gain that evenness so required to write objectively, even if poetically. I think the right word is meditation. Although the word may be simple the doing of it is less so. To become in a state of meditation requires effort, which sounds counter productive. The word effort is one repeatedly blasted my way, whether by myself.."Get down to writing another Blog!". Or the Osteopath.."Do more physical exercise to improve that back and neck of yours". Or the publishers...."Write a synopsis according to the guidelines please!" Or my stomach....."I need something to eat!" Each and every one of these needs effort. Yet, to lie down and think of nothing at all is the hardest thing ever. To empty the mind, to relax totally the body, wow...now that is pressure!  I will try.

Maybe my next Blog...in a few weeks, will be wonderfully calming and will reveal how I did empty my mind...Interesting to see what pops up after the emptying.
Any comments on how and why and what, with reference to meditation, is most welcome.
Ah, happy days.

Time is of the essence

 TIME, that wonderfully weird thing that seems always to confuse. Many say that as they grow older time moves faster. In the case of us mortals, living in contemporary times on planet earth, this simply cannot be true. Physicists give us theories about time and space and Relativity and it all tries to compel us to understand the science of it. And yet, how is it that the ten minutes I spend curled up under my sheets on a cool winter morning seems to go much faster than when I am standing inline fore a mere three minutes and growing more agitated by the second? Is it really passing me if I am seemingly waiting for time to pass quickly, while it slows down when I wish it to? Surely not. Is it mind over matter? Or in the case of sleeping in, body over mind?
When someone is involved in an accident they tell of how they feel as if they and everything around them is moving in slow motion, reinforcing the notion that time can slow down. Yet, for passersby watching the accident, it is all over in a flash, a tragic few seconds in time and space.
I am still bewildered as to how I cannot find the time to write this  Blog more frequently and how no one has the time,( or energy, or desire) to respond to it? Time spent on one thing means it is not spent on another. So it is all about choice? 
I will sleep in tomorrow and think more on this subject.