Two Thousand And Twenty Three

We’re staying with our Sri Lankan family in Aberdeen right now. It is very sobering to hear about the corrupt government in their homeland, and the way it is effecting large swathes of the population in terms of the very basics of life needs right now.

Things are worse than when we visited last year. And Sri Lanka is a country that has all the resources it needs for everybody to live well.

The history and conditions of our nations and communities, including our own, go backwards as well as forwards. It is so easy to think that our present comforts are a given. But they aren’t.

And it is so easy to think that the changes that occur, for better or worse, are out of our hands. They aren’t. We might not be able to have a big effect. On anything. But we do have an effect.

I hope we, I hope that I, can have a good effect today., small and seemingly insignificant though our actions be. They won’t feed the world, or bring world peace. But they will always count for something, even if that effect cannot be measured.

Having this freedom to be able to act in a way that benefits the wider world, somebody other than just ourselves, albeit in a small way, is a great privilege in itself.

And as this year we call Two Thousand And Twenty Three comes to a close, we can be grateful for that privilege, and resolve not to abuse it in the year to come.

Christmas Heckler

I forgot to mention my Christmas Heckler. Better tell that one, while it’s fresh in the memory banks.

It was magical. A regular monthly open mic I do, just before the big day. Everyone in a festive mood. And, hey, I’ve got some festive songs in my locker. So, in theory, I could do my usual thing, and play my own tunes.

I was finishing off the night, and returning to a song I played earlier, a recent creation, called Merry Christmas To Me. I’d already taught the audience the chorus, because it’s one that demands a sing along.

And then a lady, who, as you might expect, had imbibed a few alcoholic beverages, started to give me grief. Awkward. She wanted a song she knew. Most people do, to be fair. In her case, she was after Mustang Sally. Great song! But I don’t play it.

So we had a little bit of banter, very slurred banter from her direction, and then I went ahead and sang the song I'd already introduced. Everybody else sang it with extra gusto because of the heckle. And as we all sang my heckler got into the spirit of it all, so we finished as friends on the night.

It’s always a risk playing your own songs to an audience that aren’t familiar with them. But, it’s usually worth pushing through and trying to win them over in my experience.

Every song ever sang Is unfamiliar in the beginning.

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Behind The Music

Dylan and Cohen are, whether you like them or not, two of the most honoured songwriters in the era of popular song. One of them, Bob Dylan, allegedly writes songs very quickly. But Leonard Cohen described the process as being very lengthy and laborious. True graft.

But to those of us who like their songs, none of that really matters.

We just like the songs.

Later, perhaps, we become interested in the processes and the meanings, the stories and the heartaches Behind The Music. But not at that moment when we hear the song and it touches our hearts and our minds. At that moment nothing else matters.

This is useful to remember, particularly when the process of creating becomes more laboured. Don’t worry, because those creations too, can become loved and cherished.

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All The Nice Chocolates Gone

All The Nice Chocolates Gone
The wrappers, they shine
As the old year winds down
’Fore a new one is born

Down on Quality Street
Life is calm and timeless
A quiet sea,
Lethargy
After the storm

And you and I drink
A glass of red wine
A toast to the past
And our hopes for the future

Next morning we take down the tree
Though probably not time
And the house feels emptier
The mood more forlorn.

But as we,
Sad to say,
Wish the year away….

Sunshine breaks through
In our winter sky

She sings
“No need to wait
For another day.
Yes, every day
Is a brand new dawn.”

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Twenty Four Hours

It’s my sisters birthday today. The time of year when birthday’s don’t tend to receive quite the same amount of attention as they should. It’s the luck of the draw. Nobody plans their own birth.

Of course when you get to a certain age that doesn’t tend to matter so much. But it’s still nice to know that people care. That they remember. That we’re not an afterthought.

But nobody’s birthday, at any time of year, receives the same level of attention as many of us gave to Christmas day. It dominates the calendar, sucking everything in its direction like a terrestrial black hole.

Strange. It lasts Twenty Four Hours, just like every other day of the year. Exactly the same potential for good and bad as all the others.

But I hope yours was good.

And I hope today is even better.

ps. Happy Birthday Julie :-)


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You Deserve It

“What are you gonna write about” asks Ryan The Elder, back for Christmas. I’d just told him to shut up, while I write my daily blog.

”Who knows?” say I. “It’s always something of a mystery”.

”Random, un-informed shit is all the rage these days” Ryan shoots back.

And this is the sort of raucous banter I love most about having any of our boys in the room. It’s always fun, and it’s always interesting.

So, I hope you enjoy your mysterious, random, un-informed shit.

And might I suggest you accompany it with a warmed up mince pie and a generous dollop of brandy butter.

It’s Christmas Eve. You Deserve It.

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Ode To Happiness

I asked ChatGPT to write a poem about Happiness, and you can read it down below.

It’s not bad. The rhyming scheme is perfect. In fact if your primary school child did this for their home work you’d be very impressed.

But if your child grew up, you would expect them to write something that didn’t sound SO much like “the way a poem is supposed to sound”. You would expect more character, more personality, more humour perhaps…..possibly even LESS obvious “perfection”.

It’s actually very hard to define what gives something that human quality. After all, your primary school child is a human. But often we learn when we are young by copying. Copying a style. A way of doing things. And it is only over time that the "Je ne sais quoi” enters the equation. Later, hopefully, we learn to put our own stamp on things.

Maybe AI is capable of learning that extra nuance over time. Some people think so. I’m sceptical. But it will be interesting to find out.

In the meantime…an Ode To Happiness

In the realm where joy resides
Where sunbeams dance and shadows hide
There blooms a garden, vibrant and bright
A symphony of laughter, pure delight.

Happiness, a gentle breeze
Whispering through the willow trees
It paints the sky in hues of gold
A story of warmth, forever told.

In the tapestry of life, it weaves
A melody the heart perceives
A dance of spirits, light and free
A celebration of what's meant to be.

It's found in moments, small and grand
A child's laughter, hand in hand
With friends who linger by your side
A love that's steadfast, like the tide.

Like petals scattered in the breeze
Happiness unfolds with such ease
It's in the kindness we bestow
A gentle touch that helps us grow.

On the canvas of a grateful heart
Happiness is a work of art
A masterpiece of joy and peace
A sweet serenity that will not cease.

So let us chase the fleeting light
Embrace the day, make spirits bright
For in the tapestry of our days
Happiness is the sun's warm rays.

by Art Intel

As Dark As It’s Going To Get

We made it. Those of us living in the higher ranges of the northern latitudes have lived through months of everything getting darker.

Round about now everything is As Dark As It’s Going To Get.

And it’s at this very moment that we celebrate. Festivals have been occurring for many millennia at this time of year. Christmas, regardless of religious affiliation, is the festival of choice for many in the West.

We celebrate when it’s dark because we know that the light will return. It will. So we can light candles for ourselves to bring a little of the promise of light into our lives right now.

And, when possible, we try to light candles for others…those who can’t find the strength to believe that the light will ever return.

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Start Afresh

Today it’s our little festive traditional two hour drive up to Oban. To visit Aldi for our “Christmas Shop”. Mainly because they sell Stollen and some other nice festive foods that we like.

I know. But myself and Ineke have been doing it for years. It happens to be (like today) on, or very close to, our wedding anniversary. Thirty Seven years now you ask. Thank you.

It’s blowing a hoolie out there, so it will be a wet and windy drive. But these little traditions and habits, that develop over the years, are part of the glue, part of the love, that keeps 2 people together. The kind of thing, in fact, that helps to build the love.

Not the only thing, or, in fact, the main thing.

The main thing is learning to let go of the past. The good and the bad. Somehow we’ve learnt to do that. And it’s all history now, even if we do repeat some parts of it. Like the Aldi thing.

But today, we Start Afresh. I love you Schat!

No Bother

Returning from my walk, on Main Street, in the half light of this almost Winter Solstice Campbeltown morn, a voice called out from above.

”’Scuse me…..S’cuse me”

I looked up, firstly towards the windows above the shop, but then saw a man on the platform at the top of a Cherry Picker. He was doing something at the business end of a high lamppost. (And no, there are no Cherry Trees on Main St, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other uses for a Cherry Picker, in case you were wondering!)

”Could ya give that blue rope a pull” he shouted, pointing below.

I walked to the base of the lamppost. There was a blue cord (it wasn’t really a rope to my mind) sticking out the opening at the bottom. Ooh! Suddenly there was a little bit of tension in the air. It was like the moment before unwrapping a Christmas present.

So I started pulling the cord through. And the cord was attached to a blue wire. But when the wire appeared, that was that. Job done. The excitement was over in a jiffy.

Sorry about the big build up.

“Cheers pal” he said.

”No Bother, mate! I’ll send you the bill”

So if you’re ever passing along Main Street, Campbeltown, at night, I hope you’ll look up and appreciate my handiwork. We all need a little light in our lives!

No bother.


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It’s Not Cool

Cats Are cool. Or Cool For Cats. Whichever way you want to look at.

They don’t care what you think about them. Which is the definition of genuine, bona fide Cool.

But they also don’t care about anything other than themselves. And caring about somebody other than ourselves…how they are feeling, how we can reduce their suffering, what they are thinking, and how that effects both our worlds…is what helps to define us as humans.

In humans, a lack of warmth is cold.

It’s Not Cool.

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It Saves Time

We’ve never had a dishwasher. Lots of people say we should get a dishwasher. ”It Saves Time” they say.

I’ve just discovered an app on my phone called “Shortcuts”. It’s a way of turning a several step task on the phone into a one step task. Learning how to use that will save time too, I’m sure.

And when we’ve saved all that time, we can use it to do something else.

At some point down the line we’ll be using our time perfectly. That’s how it works right? We get more satisfied and less anxious the more time we save, because in the end we’ll just be doing the things we really want to do.

Or perhaps, at some point down the line, we could just say to ourselves. This is OK. This is good enough right now. I can live with THIS.

We could see how that works out, I suppose.

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The Temple Guards

Occasionally I play an online game with various members of our dispersed family called Jackbox. It consists of a variety of creative, anarchic quizzes in which we each attempt to, well, win of course, but also to make each other laugh. Making each other laugh is probably the main aim to be honest.

We played last night, and it is always a hoot. There is much “inappropriateness”… lewd humour pushed to the limits at times. Very little of the content would find its way onto our “Best Of Us” videos.

But at the same time it feels important to have that space in our lives where we let it all hang out. Where almost anything goes and we don’t have to be too mindful of The Temple Guards, who control the traffic lights between our brains and our mouths.

I think I’m lucky to have these times with my family. I’m glad we all feel safe to laugh our heads off… at ourselves, each other, and at the absurdities of life.

I hope you have those opportunities too. The more serious things become, the more necessary that is, I think.

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Furniture Removal Van

Fitting it all in?

”We can get another something fitted into that space. I’m sure. Look, if you move that thing along there, and then put that there, I’m sure that there’s room. Just there. Look! It will fit. Honestly!”

When we moved up to Scotland twenty seven years ago we didn’t manage it. We hired a Luton Van, but the consumer age accoutrements of a family of two adults and four children couldn’t be persuaded to fit. I had to make another trip.

But life ain’t a Furniture Removal Van.

It has its constraints for sure. But it doesn’t demand that we fill it up to the gunnels. And there isn’t a bigger van available either way.

So, we can leave space. As much space as we like. Because everything we need to really live is right here with us all the time.


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The Groundhog Days

“Desire is simply the memory of past pleasure. Fear the memory of past pain”.

I can’t say who said it, but they said it well I think.

It’s liberating and a very profound truth if you think about it…that the root of our addictions, bad habits, neuroses and anxieties are just memories from another day.

And memories drift away. All the quicker if we look at them closely with the attention that they are demanding. Those memories aren’t asking for us to do anything. They are just memories.

What happened before will never be repeated. The Groundhog Days we live will different…even if we don’t try to make them so. We can’t ever know how they will unfold, because we can’t even know how we will respond to events. Let alone what those new events will be. And they will be new, precisely because of how we respond to them.

And so…we can let the memories vanish. And again. And the blame. And just pay attention to what is actually happening now inside the amazing universe that plays itself out on the mirror of our conscious minds.

Bird World

A Rook flew by me this morning, with something in its mouth. It was being harassed by two Herring Gulls, accompanied by two smaller Jackdaws who thought they might get something out of the fight.

Gulls are persistent in their search for an easy meal, and the Rook soon dropped the offering. I watched Alpha Gull pounce and then stand, arrogant and victorious, with the morsel, whatever it was, proudly mounted between its mandibles. Meanwhile Rook seemed to be sulking a short distance away on the railing.

But there was a twist. As the Gull got busy with its meal, with the two Jackdaws standing by waiting for any crumbs to fall from the table, the Rook flew over to the grass nearer to me.

And, while her mugger was busy, she started to eat as well. It turned out, Rook hadn’t offloaded the whole of her cache. She’d stashed something away…something that looked about the size of the Herring Gull’s meal, all for herself. Clever bird.

Bigger and brasher has its own advantages in Bird World. But, even in Bird World, having a brain and adapting to the circumstances, means that creative effort used, in this case to find a meal, doesn’t need to go to waste.

A Choo!

‘Tis the season to be sniffy
Tralalala lala A Choo!
Pass the tissues rather nifty
Tralalala lala A Choo!

I’m pretty good at not getting colds very often. But I’ve had one now for a while and I can’t shake it off. It pretends to go, and then it comes back. Like an unwanted present that you gave to someone else last year and still finds its way into your stocking again.

So now, I’m in the mood for comfort food.
Extra jumpers and lots of rest.
But with my snotty nose, and sleepy mood
I’ll probably not be at my best.

See what I mean…

A Little Bit Of Fresh Air

I’ve been in a rut for a while with my creative output.

It’s a good rut, formed by good daily and monthly habits. But when it becomes difficult to heave those cart wheels out of the well worn track, then perhaps the indents have become a little too deep.

I’m not going to change the good habits. I’m just going to try and be a bit more focussed and creative in how I frame and present my work. It will involve adding a few new habits to the routine.

The important thing is that I don’t get TOO comfortable. There is a fine line between comfort and stagnation. But I also don’t want to add unnecessary burdens that I can’t carry for long. I want to keep things simple. And continue to enjoy what I do.

When all is said and done though, A Little Bit Of Fresh Air is always welcome, at any time of year.

It’s Not Gonna Change The World

Hi. Below is the lyric to a song that I started last night and finished this morning. It was inspired by watching a nature programme about the Caribbean. In it there was a simple scene where a gentle man was releasing four parrots he had rescued back into the wild. These particular parrots were threatened by the pet industry. As he released them he said very humbly - “It’s not gonna change the world”.

It’s Not Gonna Change The World
I heard somebody say
What I do today
It’s not gonna change the world

It’s not gonna change the world
When I hold your hand
I hope you understand
It’s not gonna change the world

So go ahead and take me for me granted, he said
But these little seeds I have planted
Are gonna grow
They’re gonna grow
 
Towards the light
And life will live on
You can’t stop it’s power (whoever you are)
You can’t stop the song
Don’t give up the fight (little angels)
Though the fight be long
And it’s hard to know
Right from wrong

It’s not gonna change the world
I heard somebody cry
Well I can’t lie
It’s not gonna change the world

It’s not gonna change the world
When I call you friend
And our hearts do mend
It’s not gonna change the world

So go ahead and take me for me granted
But these little seeds I have planted
Are gonna grow
They’re gonna grow
 
Towards the light
And life will live on
You can’t stop it’s power (whoever you are)
You can’t stop the song
Don’t give up the fight (little angels)
Though the fight be long     
And it’s hard to know
Right from wrong

And the monsters that we fear
Have feet of clay
However they appear to you
They too, they too my friend
Will have their day
So today there is something we must do

And it’s not gonna change the world
When your smile shines
And you walk the line
It’s not gonna change the world

It’s not gonna change the world
When you’re kind, you see
But it changes me

Words Are Potent

My apologies for a two day absence. Laid low by some unseen virus, and needing rest. But if I’m gone, I’ll be back. At least until I’m not.

The words we use to communicate are potent. But they don’t always carry the meaning we intended. Even when we’ve spoken them, or written them, as well as we can and with a pure heart, they can be misunderstood. And how often do we even manage that?

Perhaps we were mistaken to write them and should have spoken them, for instance, bringing humanity and presence and eye contact to the occasion. Or maybe we needed a little distance and should have written them at a time when our heart was calmer and our head clearer.

Words Are Potent. Especially when strong emotions or any sense of confusion is present, we are wise to -

-Take our time.
-Be slow to speak, or to write. And to decide carefully which kind of medium we choose
- Perhaps we simply need to be quiet. Or in other words…
- Shut up.

The world can live without our words, our noise, for a while. And sometimes it will be a better place as a result. There is no rush.