June 20th (2020)

 

June 20th
97 days here

I am up at 6am.

8am
I am showered, and I've had breakfast (toast, blackberry jam and butter with tea) and am sitting at the iMac doing prep for tonight’s ‘Project’. These days I have to make an early start.

9.11am The prep is done. Rest time..

I read a cartoon on Facebook just now. The message was quite clear. In these times of hardship and restrictions it is an opportunity to reassess what or who is important to you.

Doing without something gives fresh meaning to life. It's time to take a good look at the path we are each on and whether any of us have come to a crossroads, and which direction really is home. While some may lose themselves in materialism, others expended their energies in faux spirituality while the rest of us need to take a cold, hard, look at ourselves and make some difficult decisions.

It is suggested that we change every seven years. It's said that's a scientific fact - that we mentally and physically change over a period of seven years. Snopes, that very handy fact checker, says otherwise.

Snopes suggests that bodily cells are many and varied, and that they are not all replaced at the same time, indicating that the seven year change is a myth. That's a shame really, because it would have been convenient to hold on to that notion of being different every seven years to explain our maturation and how our needs and wants seem to change. It's certainly a view that philosopher Rudolf Steiner adhered to, as well as catagorising each stage.

Today, I guess, is just one of those days. I was reading (Agatha Raisin if you must now), the hand phone slipped from my dry  fingers, hitting my forehead then my eye. Ouch! It's the second time this has happened. Is this where the term 'no pain no gain' came from?

I am too tired to go out to buy things for my lunch, and as my mini cucumbers are rotten and my bean sprouts in the fridge are brown, I am back to eating pot noodles today. Luckily I still some pots left, some pretend cheese squares and two not yet rotten tomatoes.

Weighing my current options, I looked at rental prices in England. I looked at Clacton on sea, where I spent over a decade living before moving into Asia. Again ouch. Anything worth living in is way out of my most meager price range. Even two room bungalows are expensive. And when I say two roomed, the kitchen, reception and lounge are one room. There were no other viable options for me. People do warn, be careful what you wish for…...

Terry Pratchett was right. We do, indeed, live in interesting times. In Britain the Guardian newspaper ran this heading..

"Poorer middle-aged men most at risk from suicide in pandemic, say Samaritans"

The newspaper went on to say that loneliness, financial insecurity and uncertainty about the future were major causes identified through their Helpline calls. It was like looking in a mirror. I can well understand why people might want to cease, but the real question is... why do the rest of us want to continue.

Bob

Just at the moment
Of my deepest despair
I walked into
The shadow
And heard you
Singing there
You were
Singing about multitudes
And prophets
So untrue
I just had to listen
My ears
Attuned to you
Some would say
That you were
Rowdy
And that you have
Rough ways
But all
I can say
Is give him some praise
He may not be so
Handsome
Or indeed debonair
But when he sings
He makes people
Want to stop and stare
Oh Bob
In the white
And Bob In a hat
I can never ever
 deny that your songs
Bring me solace
In my moment
Of need
 a poultice indeed
Of words
And of song
Helping me get along
Realising in me there is a need
that I
In the world
I do
Belong.