Sunday, remembering, rethinking

There are events elsewhere, appalling, horrifying, unjust, cruel, vindictive… you can find them easily if you haven’t already, no need for links from here. There are responses too: angry, vindictive, triumphal, bigoted, hypocritical, despairing, determined, desperate, compassionate, consistent, supportive, inspiring.. Some are given headlines and airtime, others none or less so, some actively suppressed where they contradict or challenge the official narrative and view – these you have to look for. I may put a few links below, without preference, just because they are not invited to the top table of public media and political discourse.

I’ll just say two things here.

Killing civilians is wrong, any civilians, by anybody, on any side of a conflict. I condemn all killing of civilians. We have international laws on this – they only have meaning if we enforce them as best we can, not according to political expediency or view. I’m not in favour of war either, but that’s a longer discussion.

How events are presented and portrayed matters. How different aspects of a situation or set of events are reported matters. In news, as in visual art, the same elements of presentation shape the experience and perception of the content:

• Frame/context – choice of title, words, emphasis, placing in print, web, video/tv, radio, timing.
• Composition / juxtaposition – what order are events portrayed in? What follows what? How much space and time is given to each part? What effect do the preceding and subsequent elements have on the central content – how do colours change on different backgrounds?
• Tone – choice of language, pace, dramatic energy.
• Colour – alone and in contrast or harmony with neighbouring content.
• Questions you ask and the ones you don’t, which angle of view do you allow your audience?

event and context

So what? I am deeply troubled, disillusioned too, by the widespreading and mainstreaming of what can legitimately be described as propaganda in news reporting, even, no, especially in nations who like to present themselves as “free”, “democratic”, champions of liberty, etc. As if the internet had not been enough of a call to awaken and sharpen our thinking, this demands raising our game as adults and within our education system to ensure our children are not “illusioned” and “enchanted” by the propagandists; I think we must cultivate the skills of disillusion and disenchantment if we are to retain and regain any real freedom and autonomy of thought, belief, values, expression, association, affiliation, lifestyle.

framing the view

Learning to see clearly and critically, as much metaphorically as visually, is becoming a vital tool for a free and autonomous citizen. Here are some of my thoughts for a citizen survival kit:

• question everything – except your sanity, your own right to exist and experience wellbeing.
• do not accept face value, check “what’s in the box?”, when you open it, read the manual.
• ask “who really benefits and how?” – follow the money.
• analyse those elements of framing, composition, language and so on, as above.
• resist cynicism about the fundamental nature of humanity – most people are ok, good even, given the chance.
• loving kindness and universal compassion are hard, sometimes, but always worth the effort of cultivation, even when you feel no progress. Anger, hatred, jealousy, aggression and selfish desire are poisons.

turning away from the frames

Time to take a walk away from screen and frames and feel the cold, still frosty air, the afternoon sunlight on the hills, the sounds of hungry birds in the bushes. It’s even time to leave this excellent mix, forwarded by Chris Reed: https://movingspaceart.uk/2023/11/12/chill-out-tunes/

Thank you for reading, comments and questions are welcome, (so is coffee if you find this valuable! https://www.buymeacoffee.com/surfsenseih 😀

Ah yes, some links as promised:

• https://www.youtube.com/@ADifferentBias
• https://www.youtube.com/@aljazeeraenglish
• https://www.youtube.com/@DoubleDownNews
• https://www.youtube.com/@NovaraMedia
• https://www.youtube.com/@ListenToTimesRadio
• https://www.youtube.com/@Channel4News
• https://www.youtube.com/@LBCOfficial
• https://www.youtube.com/@csis
• https://www.youtube.com/@GreshamCollege

and much more…. Keep well, remember to walk away from it all sometimes.

Fun GPT – “Dear Santa”

I’ve been trying out the abilities of Chat GPT 3.5 (free) to help me draft some copy for an online course. It’s helpful in giving me a starting framework when my mind is tired and I’m having trouble getting out of a repetetive pattern of thought. It’s done a decent job and I can use the text it generated almost unedited this time, a first, for me.

So, as it’s the weekend, I thought I’d throw it a fun exercise just for a laugh. The computer(s) played along. If you have, or somebody you know has, an ambitious pet fish, here’s the draft of a letter to Santa that you could help it write:

[Your Pet Fish’s Name]
[Your Address]
[City, State, ZIP Code]
[Date]

Dear Santa Claus,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits at the magical North Pole! My name is [Your Pet Fish’s Name], and though I may not be a child like the ones you usually hear from, I am just as eager to write to you with a special request this Christmas.

You see, Santa, I am not your typical fish. I am a Koi Carp, and I harbor big dreams and a thirst for adventure. While my fellow aquatic friends may content themselves with the serene waters of a pond, I have a grand ambition – I want to learn to ride a bicycle!

You might wonder, Santa, why a fish would desire such an unusual gift. Allow me to explain. With a bicycle, I believe I can explore the world in a whole new way. Picture this – gliding gracefully along the streets, feeling the cool breeze against my scales, and discovering the beauty of both land and water. A bicycle would enable me to venture beyond the confines of the pond and embark on exciting journeys, witnessing the wonders of the world from a unique perspective.

Moreover, riding a bicycle would promote physical activity and help me stay fit and healthy. As you know, swimming is excellent exercise for fish, but cycling would engage a different set of muscles and challenge me mentally as well. It would be an opportunity to learn balance and coordination, just like humans do!

I assure you, dear Santa, that this gift will not only fulfill my dreams but also inspire others to pursue their aspirations, no matter how unconventional they may seem. I want to show the world that even a fish can achieve the extraordinary.

So, Santa Claus, with a hopeful heart, I kindly request a beautiful, aquatic-friendly bicycle. I promise to be careful and responsible while riding, and I’ll take every precaution to ensure my safety.

Thank you, Santa, for considering my unique wish. Even though I’m not a human child, I believe in your magical spirit and the joy you bring to countless lives every Christmas. I eagerly await your visit on Christmas Eve and look forward to embarking on new adventures with my extraordinary gift.

Wishing you and your reindeer a fantastic Christmas!

With fins crossed and warmest wishes,

[Your Pet Fish’s Name]

Chat GPT 3.5

Have a good, not too serious, weekend!

Barefoot in the World

I had hoped for better than this. I remember the early days of the Internet and the idealistic hopes of a genuine flowering of ideas, discussion, perhaps even an improved democratic process and engagement, possibly, just possibly, better government.
The fresh and vibrant salad of fast and easier communication has gone off quicker than the briefly famous lettuce that competed with our shortest-serving Prime Minister for who would last longer (the lettuce won but, sadly, failed to be elected to office). Decaying salad is nasty and unhealthy.
During the last few years, I’ve observed a cultural climate change; a growth of poisoned discourse, slandering, ridiculing and attempting to silence those who hold different views, deliberate and organised falsehoods and misinformation (once the preserve of state TV, Radio and the larger newspapers), on top of the increasingly blatant corruption in business and politics.
In these fevered times, it’s hard to prevent mental anaphylaxis with so many mental allergens circulating, like microplastics in the ocean. I listen less to news programs (especially from the BBC) now, in part to limit my exposure and distraction from things I am trying to achieve.
However, when I hear people giving warnings that some of the ideas and discussions that are about to hear might be distressing, I’m reminded of an old Buddhist saying I heard which I think is more necessary just now. I’ve paraphrased it and added an element:

You can't cover the whole world with leather just so you can walk comfortably barefoot,
You can put a pair of leather** shoes on though and walk anywhere. 

You can also get your feet accustomed to walking on the ground.

Have a good week, free of mental inflammation.

**[1] other materials also available.

Sometimes, too much might be enough.

If you love something, love it completely, cherish it, say it, but most importantly, show it. life is finite and fragile, and just because something is there one day, it might not be the next. never take that for granted. say what you need to say, then say a little more. say too much, show too much. love too much. everything is temporary but love. love outlives us all. R. Queen.

Posted on Facebook by Poetry of Kat t, reposted by Natasja Hellenthal

Perhaps I needed to remember this a week ago, it’s hard to be sure, my intention was to avoid building unfulfillable hopes and attachment to passing dreams… events intervened… all I can send now is a prayer, a wish, to bathe in light one whom I find I loved more than I realise.

Healing waters

The Sea is my best medicine. Yesterday, my mind unsettled by muted undertones of sadness, I walked to the seafront. As I passed the broken Aberystwyth castle, a memorial now of shattered seventeenth-century Royalist dreams, the scent of salty spray replaced high-street traffic smells. I walked into a blustery, bright-lit view of churning, dumping, waves on the steep, shingly beach and the restless thoughts began to slow.

I had briefly considered surfing, the full-strength dose of Father Neptune’s Healing Waters, but I’d also seen the wind forecast and I know this beach, with its powerful rips and heavy, dumping waves and sharp-ridged reefs; there is a reef that works… but not today.

Walking over perfect skimming pebbles to the coarse brown sand, I stood close to, though a respectful distance from, the surging sheets of foamy water. The Sea is my best medicine.. and this sensory immersion settled and cleared my mind as I watched and photographed the pounding waves.

The Sea is my best medicine, it washes my mind, sifting and sorting thoughts, feelings, memories, ideas, not removing but moving their causes and constituents into more settled arrangement. Like the sand, briefly disturbed by my shoes into sharp-edged footprints, the water comes, pauses and goes, leaving the beach smooth again, no trace of restless feet to break the view.

Tonight I am in my mother’s house, she is not well, I’m giving what help I can for now, before returning north. Those feelings arise again, the wind builds outside and I need sleep. Time for bed.. and let remembered waves wash through.

First Light

0410, on the fourth of October, and my body wakes me up to make me guide it to the place where bodies do what they have to do; all part of the maintenance routine.

At about this time, sixty-two years ago, I  took my first breaths of Glaswegian air, began the long process of making sense of new and sudden sensations and experiences, of forming a sense of self and other on the way, with all the consequences that brings.

My mother comes to mind: the ordeals she has endured, her enduring love despite very many setbacks and disappointments in her life, many achievements in the face of them too.. and the great changes in the world since then. She has given me a lot, including much of the most important learning for life. Thank you, Mum.

I’m grateful, too, for the many fortunate circumstances I’ve encountered in this life,  not least being born into a place, family and culture not too stifled by rigid dogmatic beliefs or tainted by the daily uncertainty of corruption. With much more freedom than many have. Just being free of routine hunger, thirst, danger,  fear and pain, anger and confusion… this is a wealth in itself. There are many people to thank for that, past and present,  too many to comprehend, even.

There is a gusty, cool, restless wind outside,  the promise of rain this morning, another day of steering this body and mind through the flow of experiences.  An early bird tweets and stops short, perhaps nudged by its neighbours on a branch, still trying to sleep. I’ll rest a little, too.

Thank you, have a good one.

Just before the bus leaves.

As I take my seat after boarding the bus to work at the terminus station, there is a moment of quiet settling. Everyone has found a seat and I feel a small wave of relief pass through the bus, as if we’ve all just put down a tiresome burden of uncertainty and anxiety.

The engine starts with a shake and a roar, like a lion woken too early, and we move. Thoughts begin to flow again, conversations begin, I stay dry on the way to work today.

The new term is starting, changes and the need to adapt arise, as always.

Have a good week.

Sunday evening..

Inside, soft aroma of fresh paint on canvas….

Outside, clouds bang together and spill their drinks..

The plants are sighing..

Riding the squalls.

All I could do was laugh out loud as the rain ran down my back and onwards via shorts into my shoes, while a sustained blast of wind at my back pushed me homeward faster than I could pedal.

Apart from keeping my mind on staying upright and avoiding potholes, the squalls I had hoped to evade were helping me towards the weekend after a tiring, mentally cluttered week, my mind battered by waves of fatigue, frustration, anger, inspiration, enthusiasm and, occasionally, moments of clarity; metaphorical blue sky between storm clouds.

Video clip here: https://youtu.be/OlI-3dIWpmI

A colleague had offered me a lift home, though my bike would have messed up her immaculate car, even if it would have fitted inside, and I preferred to ride through the weather in any case, welcoming the exercise and engagement of my senses and body with the conditions; to avoid this would have kept my mind weary, dull, jaded, despite many positive aspects of the week.

This is one of very many things I find so important and valuable about choosing an active mode of travel, by which I mean walking, cycling, paddling or other mostly human-powered ways of getting about. People have asked me: “don’t you feel exhausted when you get here?” But I feel mostly the opposite, relaxed and “worked” in a healthy, well-being way, more calm and with a greater capacity for equanimity and patience. If I could cycle in every day, my contentment and productivity would be enhanced.

There are studies (sorry, no links just now) that have shown observable improvements in young people’s school performance, behaviour and general sense of well-being if they travel actively to and from school. Likewise in the wider population with respect to both mental and physical health. There is a project starting here to try to support that and early signs are modestly encouraging, given we are starting from a very low base, here in the British Isles.

By the time I arrived home, I was completely soaked through, my shoes emitting little fountains as I walked. A shower after stowing my dripping bike almost felt redundant. I was tired but in what felt a healthy way, satisfied with this conclusion to my working week, any residual negativity washed away.

I wish you a good weekend and clearing mental skies.

New growth… and a new lodger.

As Spring moves towards Summer, I’ve expanded my growing areas for a variety of vegetables. At work, I have taken an opportunity that arose to bring a new but neglected polytunnel from luxurious jungle of “weeds” to more organised and productive space; from a human point of view of course. Several different teachers and a couple of classes of reluctant or downright unwilling pupils have come and gone from the project, so I am the continuity person. I could just leave it until asked to help out but I do actually enjoy spending time there, outside the school buildings where I am mostly occupied. I am also seizing the opportunity to grow things that I can’t find space nor the warmth for at home: tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, basil, possibly more if I can find more containers. I’m very open about this, putting the case that having the place in use and demonstrating what you can grow in it are in themselves beneficial to the educational purpose of the structure.

The few students who did come in and transplant peas and broad beans to the raised beds will not now enter for fear of the hordes of small, black, spiders who scuttle everywhere in the warm, humid tunnel and whose tiny offspring leave their invisible abseil ropes dangling from the supports, to make me jump as I feel their light caress on my face when I attend to the plants. The pea plants are beginning to produce sweet, delicious peas already and the broad beans are not far behind. I am accepting my in-kind payment for maintenance and improvements with gratitude, though I’m sharing pods with anybody who does turn up to help; for some, this is their first ever taste of peas direct from the plant, outside of a can or plastic packet.

Fruits of (mostly) my labours…

At home, the spinach is lovely and baby leeks are in their holes, with new beans and beetroot as neighbours. While I was busy filling a bottle with water to pour into the leeks’ holes – gently, so as not to drown or compress the young plants – a small black spider ran past me and in the open door to the cottage, her bag of eggs firmly attached to her bottom, and disappeared into the dark spaces behind the shoes and boots in the hallway before I could put a jar over her (I never intentionally kill a spider). She has clearly and decisively moved in. “Put the kettle on, once you’ve found your room, please”, I said to her, as I returned to my tasks outside.

Swifts are sweeping the air above the rooftops, held aloft by rising notes of evening blackbird song. The wind is dropping and it promises to be a fine evening. The kettle is silent, I guess I’ll just have to make the tea myself but no doubt my new house-mate will make herself useful in other ways and if she keeps to the dark, secret spaces then we can happily share this pleasant little house.

A happy and peaceful weekend to you.