I will not be making any New Year’s resolutions. I gave up on that a few years ago because it made me even crazier than I already felt. The psychic equivalent of trying to squeeze my size 12 hips into size 8 skinny jeans. I don’t do that in real life, I have no illusions about my size 12-ness and I abhor skinny jeans. So why do it to my already overworked, overwrought, oversensitive psyche?
There is something about this time of year though that makes millions of people feel the need to magnify their dissatisfaction with themselves and their lives and feel the need to fix it. All because of a date on a calendar. A date that is merely a number, an attempt to mark the passing of time which if you think about it, is like marking the sky with a grid. Marking all of space with a metal grid. You might as well try and lasso a cloud or keep a crocodile as a pet.
I know it’s practical – to have calendars and diaries and planners. But you can also take things too far. I've tried not to be judgmental about this. I mean, I know some people need to be shouted at and demoralised so that they can do what they want to do or need to do. But I can't help it. Do you even know anyone who has ever stuck to their resolutions or talk about them or remember them or give a flying monkey's testicle about them past January? Actually, it gives me hope that people don't stick to those resolutions. It gives me hope that there is something in our human natures that will not bend to something imposed upon it so unnaturally.
So the mocking continues.
Enter reverb10. Now that it is nearly over, I can safely say that it has confirmed my suspicions and fears. It really was as insipid and facile as it seemed. If I had felt uncomfortable with New Year’s Resolutions before, having seeing the Future Tools that the team had to offer, I now see them as practically toxic. Not only have they benevolently offered us the tool of How To Create Your Personal Manifesto – a process that is more lengthy and complicated than a mortgage application (honestly – who has the TIME to dick around like that?) to ‘tools’ to help you MANAGE your New Year’s Resolutions. Those pesky things! Who knew they could become so unruly, so willful? Maybe it’s just the witch (or the Darkness, if you prefer) in me that can’t help but see all of this as terribly desperate and controlling. Trying to nail down every ounce of uncertainty in life, every glimmer of the unknown and bring it into obedient submission. Stamp on those dangerous sparks before they catch and become an inferno. I understand something of that because my Inner Control Freak is freakin’ strong and smug. But it doesn't stay smug for long, because life has a way of reminding us that it is not a straight line to be drawn with a ruler.
If some of this resonates with you but you still feel a need to take something with you into the New Year, then take this:
In some countries, the year isn’t actually 2010 on the verge of becoming 2011. In Thailand for instance, it is the year 2553. And their New Year begins in April.
“There is always something beyond what we know.” – Ernesto Neto (Brazilian artist)
"The wind will carry us..." Noir Désir – Le Vent Nous Portera (This is a link to a song on Spotify)
If you still feel the urge to make a list or create a solid shape out of those filaments of uncertainty, then at least try to go easy on yourself. Ditch the manifesto and write a moanifesto instead. Here’s mine:
A Moanifesto
Out of respect and awe for the Unknown and for the vastness and richness that is life,
-I will not waste time trying to lose weight or wondering whether I should give up bacon or getting myself into an exercise regime. Rather, I will enjoy my food and enjoy yoga because it makes me feel good and not because it is good for me.
-I will not endeavour to make any pragmatic or sensible decisions about “my future”. It follows that I will NOT at any time sit down to think about where I want to be in five years time. Or consider a job because it offers a pension scheme. Or try to improve myself in any way that would make a life coach or wellness consultant proud or happy. If I attempt any such moves, I authorise the minions of the Unknown to bitch-slap me.
-I WILL rant and use bad language.
-I will continue to start projects and do most things in a haphazard manner. I will become the epitomy of doing things willy-nilly.
-I will waste time.
-I will watch too much TV.
-I will stage wrestling matches (and pick alleyway fist fights) with my inner control freak and sometimes, I will win.
-I will try my damndest to annoy the fuck out of guilt so it leaves me the hell alone.
-I will not make any rules.
-I reserve the right to break the rules.
Now, don't make the mistake of trying to stay up till midnight to see in the New Year. It's already happened in some parts of the world anyway, so you're too late. Just go to bed, or get drunk or stoned and forget that one second after midnight, you are suddenly supposed to be a whole new person living a whole new life. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Friday, December 31, 2010
30th December ~ 275 word diary
Woke up this morning with a boulder of sadness on my chest and a dire need for a haircut. Obviously my hair didn’t become dire overnight but my need for having it chopped did. Thanks to errors in cinema listings, I had time to kill before The Kids Are All Right and wandered into a tiny salon in Chinatown. While the scissors snip-snip-snipped away and I wondered what memories my hair held and whether they would be lost to me now, the hairdresser starting speaking to her colleagues in such a tone about my hair that I started to feel guilty, as if my hair was a child or pet I had neglected for too long. She was so surprised at the length and thickness of it, pointing at the pile on the floor for me, as if hair on the floor was something she didn’t see everyday.
But even I was shocked. Because it looked like a small animal was curled at my feet. There was more hair on the floor than there was left on my head. I smiled sheepishly and said, “It’s been 3 months, since I last had a haircut.” She nodded and smiled and continued snipping. It seemed I was forgiven. Then I counted again. Not 3 months, but 8. 8 months. But I didn’t want to tell her, to correct myself. I didn’t want to seem too eager to defend myself. When I left the salon, they all smiled at me, as if patting me on the back for having done the right thing. “Not so heavy now,” my hairdresser said as I said goodbye. Not so heavy now.
But even I was shocked. Because it looked like a small animal was curled at my feet. There was more hair on the floor than there was left on my head. I smiled sheepishly and said, “It’s been 3 months, since I last had a haircut.” She nodded and smiled and continued snipping. It seemed I was forgiven. Then I counted again. Not 3 months, but 8. 8 months. But I didn’t want to tell her, to correct myself. I didn’t want to seem too eager to defend myself. When I left the salon, they all smiled at me, as if patting me on the back for having done the right thing. “Not so heavy now,” my hairdresser said as I said goodbye. Not so heavy now.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
My year in books
Books I read in 2010 (in the order that they were read)
(abandoned books not listed)
The True Deceiver – Tove Jansson
Brixton Beach – Roma Tearne*
The Griffin & Sabine books – Nick Bantock
Diary – Chuck Palaniuk
1000 Journals Project
Brooklyn – Colm Toibin
The Year of Magical Thinking – Joan Didion
The Vagrants – Yiyun Li
The Locust & The Bird – Hanan Al-Shaykh
The Forty Rules of Love – Elif Shafak
The Girl Who Played with Fire – Stieg Larsson
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest – Stieg Larsson
Stitches – David Small (a graphic memoir)
I Haven’t Dreamed of Flying for a While – Taichi Yamada
Saving Fish From Drowning – Amy Tan
The Sookie Stackhouse novels no’s 2 – 10 – Charlaine Harris
A Touch of Dead – Charlaine Harris
The Shiniest Jewel – Marian Henley (a graphic memoir)
One Day – David Nicholls
*I don't like to pick favourites for books, but I'm picking this one because even though I read it very early in the year, the story is still colourful and vivid in my mind and still moves me when I remember it.
~
Most recently abandoned: The Diary of Anne Frank and Middlemarch
Currently reading: Stephen King’s Under The Dome
Most recently bought or received:
A History of Love – Nicole Krauss
The Hand That First Held Mine – Maggie O’Farrell
Our Tragic Universe – Scarlett Thomas
Mrs Fry’s Diary – Mrs Stephen Fry
Currently Top of the Wishlist:
The Hare with Amber Eyes – Edmund de Waal
The Alexandria Quartet – Lawrence Durrell
The Devil at Large – Erica Jong on Henry Miller
(abandoned books not listed)
The True Deceiver – Tove Jansson
Brixton Beach – Roma Tearne*
The Griffin & Sabine books – Nick Bantock
Diary – Chuck Palaniuk
1000 Journals Project
Brooklyn – Colm Toibin
The Year of Magical Thinking – Joan Didion
The Vagrants – Yiyun Li
The Locust & The Bird – Hanan Al-Shaykh
The Forty Rules of Love – Elif Shafak
The Girl Who Played with Fire – Stieg Larsson
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest – Stieg Larsson
Stitches – David Small (a graphic memoir)
I Haven’t Dreamed of Flying for a While – Taichi Yamada
Saving Fish From Drowning – Amy Tan
The Sookie Stackhouse novels no’s 2 – 10 – Charlaine Harris
A Touch of Dead – Charlaine Harris
The Shiniest Jewel – Marian Henley (a graphic memoir)
One Day – David Nicholls
*I don't like to pick favourites for books, but I'm picking this one because even though I read it very early in the year, the story is still colourful and vivid in my mind and still moves me when I remember it.
~
Most recently abandoned: The Diary of Anne Frank and Middlemarch
Currently reading: Stephen King’s Under The Dome
Most recently bought or received:
A History of Love – Nicole Krauss
The Hand That First Held Mine – Maggie O’Farrell
Our Tragic Universe – Scarlett Thomas
Mrs Fry’s Diary – Mrs Stephen Fry
Currently Top of the Wishlist:
The Hare with Amber Eyes – Edmund de Waal
The Alexandria Quartet – Lawrence Durrell
The Devil at Large – Erica Jong on Henry Miller
29th December ~ 100 word diary
It's been 3 months since I had a Jake-free night out. Looking at my diary entries for the whole year tells me that I had 10 nights out in total. Actually this isn’t bad and a vast improvement on the year before. I had aimed for one night a month and I’m not far short. But there’s never been a gap of 3 months between outings. Illness, bad weather and the onset of winter have been to blame. Well, I still have 2 days left to add another evening to my tally. Or an afternoon, or even a whole day.
28th December ~ 100 word diary
Paul's brother and family came over on a rare visit for xmas lunch. They’re not far away and yet they hadn’t been to visit since Jake was one month old (and not for lack of being invited). It makes me think of barriers we create around things we don’t want to do, how it can start with a wisp, a vague feeling of resistance which then becomes wall-like habit and then how-things-have-always-been. Or maybe there’s something underneath it all, something true which finds its way to being expressed despite familial bonds. Maybe some wisps were always meant to be bricks.
Monday, December 27, 2010
27th December ~ 100 word diary
Eating: spaghetti with baby plum tomatoes, chorizo, feta & basil drizzled with chilli oil. Watching: the cat toy with a knitted Mexican finger puppet. Reading: Stephen King’s Under The Dome. Listening: to Jake’s toddler belly laughter – how it fills and floats and lifts you up and feels pure. Revisiting: old favourites on Spotify – Laura Veirs’ Carbon Glacier (my favourite of all her albums) and Rachel Goswell’s Waves are Universal which I will always associate with a certain train ride from St Ives to London and a sense of serenity mingled with anticipation, of something just beginning, the tremors of possibility.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
26th December ~ 325 word diary
Something odd happened yesterday. There was a moment, while I was rolling out the spiced cookie dough, listening to Richard Hawley on 6music that I felt so happy and at peace, so all-is-right-with-the-world despite its many problems and grief, that I even exclaimed, “I LOVE Christmas!”
Because it’s traditionally been lonely and over-stressed, I’ve hated it for years. This has lessened with having Jake. There’s nothing like having a child to show you how to celebrate. But this was beyond that. This wasn’t just about family and the coming together of those magical elements that make up Christmas. This was about being in the moment, all day, and how those moments made up one simple, flowing gorgeous day. Listening to the Christmas songs I love, realising that the best ones are tinged with sadness, I felt how true happiness is not about banishing sadness or grief, but embracing it in that bittersweet way.
So it was somehow fitting that it was our last Christmas with our neighbours from across the road. They are leaving in January. E & her father are going to China for an indefinite period and E’s mother is staying in Kent, where she now works. They are leaving their London flat for good. We won’t have them as neighbours anymore. Jake won’t have his friend from across the road. They won’t be at nursery together. We won’t be able to look out our window and see their friendly faces waving back at us. They are a big part of why I love living here. And now, they’re leaving. So our time together yesterday was heightened, the way spices, sharp and hot on your tongue bring tears to your eyes but flavour to your tongue, all the way down to your heart. Just by being together, sharing food, laughter, watching our children play together. Holding the sadness in the midst of the happiness, holding them in each palm, just letting them be.
Because it’s traditionally been lonely and over-stressed, I’ve hated it for years. This has lessened with having Jake. There’s nothing like having a child to show you how to celebrate. But this was beyond that. This wasn’t just about family and the coming together of those magical elements that make up Christmas. This was about being in the moment, all day, and how those moments made up one simple, flowing gorgeous day. Listening to the Christmas songs I love, realising that the best ones are tinged with sadness, I felt how true happiness is not about banishing sadness or grief, but embracing it in that bittersweet way.
So it was somehow fitting that it was our last Christmas with our neighbours from across the road. They are leaving in January. E & her father are going to China for an indefinite period and E’s mother is staying in Kent, where she now works. They are leaving their London flat for good. We won’t have them as neighbours anymore. Jake won’t have his friend from across the road. They won’t be at nursery together. We won’t be able to look out our window and see their friendly faces waving back at us. They are a big part of why I love living here. And now, they’re leaving. So our time together yesterday was heightened, the way spices, sharp and hot on your tongue bring tears to your eyes but flavour to your tongue, all the way down to your heart. Just by being together, sharing food, laughter, watching our children play together. Holding the sadness in the midst of the happiness, holding them in each palm, just letting them be.
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| Taken by Jake |
Saturday, December 25, 2010
25th December ~ 100ish word diary with a bonus Christmas post
I was still in bed when I heard Jake rustling presents under the tree. Paul told him they were mine then went into the kitchen. The rustling continued. I came downstairs and found Jake clutching one of my gifts. “Got present for you Mummy!” he said. He was more thrilled when he saw he had presents too! On seeing the Duplo, “It’s BRICKS!” and the baseplates (one in each colour) immediately became trains. I got a moving story written by Paul, about an orphan doohickey named Theo who receives a present from his parents from beyond the grave. Santa dies in the process, but we won't focus on that.
~
And now, a few more words. In the spirit of Christmas, I’m going to respond (briefly) to today’s reverb10 prompt. Especially since it’s not a bad one.
Photo.
Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you. (Prompt Author: Tracey Clark)
I’m posting this because it was taken by my 28 month old son. Judging by the length of these paragraphs, it’s only worth about 195 words, but why waffle on for a thousand when you can be more succinct. Anyway, I like it because I look genuinely happy and it’s one of those rare photos in which I don’t look hideous. I don’t think myself hideous, but I am not photogenic. I also like it because I like to think its how Jake sees me and that he has managed to capture it, in his simple toddler in-the-moment-joyful-authenticity.
It was about a week ago and we were in the kitchen. I was about to make lunch, he was on the counter rearranging my spice rack. I’d just snapped a photo of him and he asked for the camera. “Want take picture of Mummy, okay?” He held up the camera, smiled, said, “Say Cheese!” I couldn’t help but smile and he took it. So I also like the photo because it captures how he makes me feel. Happy, joyful, lucky to be alive, lucky to be part of his life, lucky to be his Mummy.
And on that note…Merry Christmas everyone. Love and peace to all.
~
And now, a few more words. In the spirit of Christmas, I’m going to respond (briefly) to today’s reverb10 prompt. Especially since it’s not a bad one.
Photo.
Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you. (Prompt Author: Tracey Clark)
I’m posting this because it was taken by my 28 month old son. Judging by the length of these paragraphs, it’s only worth about 195 words, but why waffle on for a thousand when you can be more succinct. Anyway, I like it because I look genuinely happy and it’s one of those rare photos in which I don’t look hideous. I don’t think myself hideous, but I am not photogenic. I also like it because I like to think its how Jake sees me and that he has managed to capture it, in his simple toddler in-the-moment-joyful-authenticity.
It was about a week ago and we were in the kitchen. I was about to make lunch, he was on the counter rearranging my spice rack. I’d just snapped a photo of him and he asked for the camera. “Want take picture of Mummy, okay?” He held up the camera, smiled, said, “Say Cheese!” I couldn’t help but smile and he took it. So I also like the photo because it captures how he makes me feel. Happy, joyful, lucky to be alive, lucky to be part of his life, lucky to be his Mummy.
And on that note…Merry Christmas everyone. Love and peace to all.
Friday, December 24, 2010
24th December ~ 100 word diary (the one where I make sense)
Maybe spending half of xmas eve tidying, storing & reorganizing Jake’s toys wasn’t such a great idea. Cos I’ve spent half the day in a furious frenzy and I still haven’t done any baking for tomorrow. Here’s where I decide to focus on the positive or have a meltdown. How’s this? Trying to explain to Jake what elderflower cordial was, I said at the end of an inadequate explanation, “Does that make sense?” Thankfully he nodded, grabbed a wooden spoon and said, “Yes please. Jake want make sense. Mummy Jake make sense ‘gether? Shall we do that?” Yes we shall.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Ahhhh, warmth and fuzziness
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| Our tree angel with natural halo ;-) |
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| Our family on the tree, courtesy of Jake |
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| Jake's "triangle" which looks to me very much like a xmas tree So, a tree on the tree |
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| Spot the cat |
23rd December ~ 150 word diary (the one where Santa gets naked)
So Jake met Santa and didn’t freak out. When I went to collect him from nursery, Santa (who was Cockney and had an earring in one ear) was still there handing out presents. Jake watched him with a mixture of awe, confusion and suspicion. When I asked him what it was like meeting Santa, he thought about it and said very seriously, “Says ho ho ho that one. Ho ho ho.”
Today when he woke up crying, I showed Jake a lovely card we received entitled “Santa’s Full Monty.” Santa, Russian doll like, goes from being fully dressed to naked (with bits discretely covered) in four steps. It calmed him down but I now wonder what he must be thinking. Santa is a man who dresses up funny, hands out presents to children and also sometimes takes his clothes off. Oh dear. Good preparation for the world at large then.
Today when he woke up crying, I showed Jake a lovely card we received entitled “Santa’s Full Monty.” Santa, Russian doll like, goes from being fully dressed to naked (with bits discretely covered) in four steps. It calmed him down but I now wonder what he must be thinking. Santa is a man who dresses up funny, hands out presents to children and also sometimes takes his clothes off. Oh dear. Good preparation for the world at large then.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
22nd December ~ 100 word diary
Jake's at nursery right now! They said he could stay for the afternoon because Santa’s popping in with presents for the children. UNEXPECTED FREE TIME!!!! I managed to get most of the groceries we need for xmas. I can now start baking THE cookies. I got a few treats for Jake and his friend E who’s coming over xmas day. And I found exactly what I was hoping we could get for Jake (megablocks and duplo to bump up his collection) in the charity shop for £4.50 (would cost upwards of £40 new). Oh dear. I’m getting excited about xmas!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
21st December ~ 100 word diary
Monday, December 20, 2010
A word about Goddesses...(I hope I don't make you puke)
Reading Elizabeth Marie's response to THAT reverb10 prompt, the one about "healing" written by a 20-something self-styled "Goddess Leoni" (I kid you not) got me thinking about real wounds and real Goddesses. I remembered the black-faced tongue protruding picture of Kali that a (very wise) friend sent me a few years ago and decided to find out more about her.
I've always been aware of Kali but never knew much about her. To be honest, she's always scared me. Well, maybe not scared, but she's always seemed too strange and inaccessible. Like she doesn't and cannot belong to me, but only to those of her culture. Like I could only lay claim to her if I was Indian or Bengali. I don't believe such things anymore, just like I no longer believe that I can't be Thai. So maybe it was the right time for me to rediscover her. Because I suddenly felt like she was there for me to discover.
The images I found of her, dark, fierce, huge tongue protruding, severed heads round her neck, standing on the body of Lord Shiva (who threw himself under her feet to stop her killing frenzy during battle) no longer seem strange or distant, but disconcertingly familiar. Seeing them was like experiencing a glimmer of recognition. What was even more surprising was reading that this Goddess of Death, this Dark Mother Goddess, has devotees who consider their bond with her to be intimate and loving, like the bond they have with their own mothers. This is what is foreign to me, the idea of a warm, intimate, loving motherly bond. And yet, Kali appeals to me. This quote I found on one of the sites about Kali is what ultimately pulled me in:
"My child, you need not know much in order to please Me.
Only Love Me dearly.
Speak to me, as you would talk to your mother,
if she had taken you in her arms."
The "if". If she had taken you in her arms. Love me and talk to me like your mother, IF she had taken you in her arms.
And so I feel welcomed. Embraced. Reading that, I wanted to make her my own, wanted to sit at her feet and be held and let her know the true darkness in my heart. After all, who would understand better than her? When I'm in one of my foul moods, feeling torn up from the inside out with frustration and fury, Kali would not tell me to go draw a rainbow sprinkled with glitter or heal myself with makeup and candles. She is the Goddess of Death & Destruction. And yet, she holds her arms out like a mother, a true mother. And in her, I find an unlikely place to rest my head. And maybe even my heart.
I've always been aware of Kali but never knew much about her. To be honest, she's always scared me. Well, maybe not scared, but she's always seemed too strange and inaccessible. Like she doesn't and cannot belong to me, but only to those of her culture. Like I could only lay claim to her if I was Indian or Bengali. I don't believe such things anymore, just like I no longer believe that I can't be Thai. So maybe it was the right time for me to rediscover her. Because I suddenly felt like she was there for me to discover.
"My child, you need not know much in order to please Me.
Only Love Me dearly.
Speak to me, as you would talk to your mother,
if she had taken you in her arms."
The "if". If she had taken you in her arms. Love me and talk to me like your mother, IF she had taken you in her arms.
And so I feel welcomed. Embraced. Reading that, I wanted to make her my own, wanted to sit at her feet and be held and let her know the true darkness in my heart. After all, who would understand better than her? When I'm in one of my foul moods, feeling torn up from the inside out with frustration and fury, Kali would not tell me to go draw a rainbow sprinkled with glitter or heal myself with makeup and candles. She is the Goddess of Death & Destruction. And yet, she holds her arms out like a mother, a true mother. And in her, I find an unlikely place to rest my head. And maybe even my heart.
20th December ~ 100 word diary
Right now, Jake is cutting a piece of paper with scissors. Earlier, he was turning a box of melba toast into a train. The other day, he ran giggling through the house with a tea towel in tow, and every day uses a giant roll of wrapping paper as a vacuum cleaner. He’s much more fastidious about vacuuming than we are. I also made him a salt dough train. I thought it was crappy. He looked at it and said, “Oh, v nice this train, v happy this train.” We’re not buying xmas presents this year. We don’t need to.
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| Salt dough train. Made by Mummy, painted by Jake. |
What we've been up to...
Jake & I have had a very busy week...
A few days later, we painted them with a poster paint & pva glue mix...
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| Rearranging my spice rack while I bake mint chocolate cookies |
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| Making salt dough |
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| Kneaded into a lovely ball |
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| Stopping to brush teeth, an important step in making salt dough |
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| The baked salt dough faces Jake made with very little help They are Daddy, Mummy, Jake |
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| The salt dough bird I made following Geninne's bird ornament tutorial It collapsed in the oven and came out wonky |
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| All our creations, cooling off after baking |
A few days later, we painted them with a poster paint & pva glue mix...
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| Painting our creations - Jake paints his faces |
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| And then repaints them all green |
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| The cat I made with a bit of leftover salt dough |
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| The bird ornament, painted, varnished and somehow strung up on the tree It caused so much cursing and swearing to get it to that "hanging" stage that it is now known as The Effin' Bird |
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| In the middle of all the creating, we also went out in the snow |
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| And made a snowman with Daddy... |
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| ...complete with a goatee and pubes (Paul's idea) |
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| And Jake played with his friend from across the road |
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| And we built another snow...creature |
All in one week!! See what not doing reverb10 can lead to? :-)
Sunday, December 19, 2010
19th December ~ on which the 100 word diary makes its return
So after shouting at my toddler for trying to snatch the Pritt Stick out of my hand while glueing his be-angelled image onto red card, and hinting at Paul that I need some time to myself, I get said time to myself and what do I do? Eat leftover Chinese in front of the computer while they are upstairs laughing and screaming together. What I’d really like for xmas is to get what I want without feeling like a cow. Okay, I also did some writing, which I claim is important for my existence. Still feel like a cow though.
Some toilet humour in the absence of further reverb10 posts...
As you may have gathered from the lack of further reverb10 posts, the one decent prompt I last mentioned was a blip and I have now let go of the idea of maybe going back to it. However, without reverb10, my blog suddenly feels adrift, lacking in direction and purpose. A friend and I are cooking some ideas to create our own writing prompt blog, but in the meantime, this lack of purpose post-reverb10 disturbs me. In an attempt to remedy the situation, I thought I'd share some anecdotes with you, on the joys of life with a toddler...
The other day, I was in the toilet and Jake followed me in. I never get to go to the toilet without being watched anymore. Jake asked me, "Mummy are you doing poo?" I said, "Not poo darling, wee."
A few moments later he said, "Mummy, are you finished doing not poo?"
~
Yesterday, once the blizzard had subsided, we went out in the snow and built snowmen and had a snowball fight. When I was hit by a particularly big one, I inadvertently did a little wee in my pants at the moment of impact. Naturally I felt the need to share this information with Paul and whispered it to him (not very quietly obviously). Just as a couple of strangers were walking past, Jake piped up, "Mummy do wee wee in pants?" enunciating each word perfectly. That'll teach me.
The other day, I was in the toilet and Jake followed me in. I never get to go to the toilet without being watched anymore. Jake asked me, "Mummy are you doing poo?" I said, "Not poo darling, wee."
A few moments later he said, "Mummy, are you finished doing not poo?"
~
Yesterday, once the blizzard had subsided, we went out in the snow and built snowmen and had a snowball fight. When I was hit by a particularly big one, I inadvertently did a little wee in my pants at the moment of impact. Naturally I felt the need to share this information with Paul and whispered it to him (not very quietly obviously). Just as a couple of strangers were walking past, Jake piped up, "Mummy do wee wee in pants?" enunciating each word perfectly. That'll teach me.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Oh my noodles, is there hope for reverb10 after all?
I'm not coming back to reverb10. At least I don't think I am. But I did want to post about two reverb related things that actually made me feel tingles in my stomach and goosebumpy on my skin. I know, it's hard to believe, but here you go, you can judge for yourself.
First, I stumbled on Elizabeth Marie's blog and was humbled and inspired by her take on yesterday's prompt, which when I read it, I thought "I'm glad I'm not doing this anymore," and when she read it, came up with excellent writing:
http://sidneyport.blogspot.com/2010/12/reverb-10-one-in-which-i-capture.html
http://sidneyport.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-thats-merely-blip.html
Second, today's prompt was written by someone who ISN'T a New Age consultant or guru of any kind, isn't selling anything and is an editor at Harper Collins. You know what else, the prompt didn't suck. It almost makes me want to resume doing reverb10 again. We'll see. Maybe I'll post as and when the mood strikes me.
First, I stumbled on Elizabeth Marie's blog and was humbled and inspired by her take on yesterday's prompt, which when I read it, I thought "I'm glad I'm not doing this anymore," and when she read it, came up with excellent writing:
http://sidneyport.blogspot.com/2010/12/reverb-10-one-in-which-i-capture.html
http://sidneyport.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-thats-merely-blip.html
Second, today's prompt was written by someone who ISN'T a New Age consultant or guru of any kind, isn't selling anything and is an editor at Harper Collins. You know what else, the prompt didn't suck. It almost makes me want to resume doing reverb10 again. We'll see. Maybe I'll post as and when the mood strikes me.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
reverb10: Appreciate (That's it, I'm outta here)
Appreciate.
What's the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?
(Prompt Author: Victoria Klein)
~
Ok that’s it. I give up. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fight the relentless deluge of New Age exhortations to better myself. I don’t have the energy. I barely have enough energy to be civil to my partner and spend time with my toddler without being distracted by idiotic vomit-inducing prompts by people I would not seek out for help or inspiration under other circumstances, so why do it now? (And yes, I have now given up on my shiny dream that any of the prompt authors will be writers whose work I might actually like or want to read.)
Do you know what did it for me? It wasn’t finding something to appreciate - believe it or not, even I am able to appreciate more than one thing in life. No, it is the arse-twitching New Age code that requires us all to BE GRATEFUL. A bit like making a child say thank you for a hideous scratchy jumper it’s been given by an ancient aunt, because heaven forbid that aunt should be offended or have to deal with a child's honesty. When I was a child, being ungrateful was one of the worst things you could be. It was on a par with the gravest sins in my mother's eyes: being unladylike and talking back (or having a mind of your own).
This is the same thing. Express your gratitude, fake it if you have to, otherwise, you will offend God or the Universe or whatever Superpower provides all the things that you want and need in life. And underlying it all is a belief that we need to do this because we don’t really deserve it. We don’t deserve to be happy, we don’t deserve to feel fulfilled or at peace or have love in our lives or win the lottery or own a home or be successful or admired or have 25,000 gazillion followers or facebook friends, so we have to make ourselves jump through a series of hoops posing as spiritual rituals or ways of betterment, the modern day equivalent of sacrificing a few virgins in exchange for a good harvest. And I think its bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with feeling thankful. It can even feel good to do good things or better yourself because you genuinely want to. But start making gratefulness compulsory, or a step in a plan to guaranteed affluence and bliss, and any natural feelings of thankfulness that might have arisen will start to turn into a resentful burden of obligation. Not only that, your face will turn to shiny plastic and you won't notice.
Now that you’ve read that are you thinking, Oh my god, how can she say that? Now god’s gonna strike her down with cancer to teach her a lesson. Well if you did, just think about it. Do you really believe that if you aren’t grateful enough, then you deserve whatever bad shit the Universe has to throw at you? If you do then maybe you need reverb10. As for me, I’ve had enough.
What's the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?
(Prompt Author: Victoria Klein)
~
Ok that’s it. I give up. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fight the relentless deluge of New Age exhortations to better myself. I don’t have the energy. I barely have enough energy to be civil to my partner and spend time with my toddler without being distracted by idiotic vomit-inducing prompts by people I would not seek out for help or inspiration under other circumstances, so why do it now? (And yes, I have now given up on my shiny dream that any of the prompt authors will be writers whose work I might actually like or want to read.)
Do you know what did it for me? It wasn’t finding something to appreciate - believe it or not, even I am able to appreciate more than one thing in life. No, it is the arse-twitching New Age code that requires us all to BE GRATEFUL. A bit like making a child say thank you for a hideous scratchy jumper it’s been given by an ancient aunt, because heaven forbid that aunt should be offended or have to deal with a child's honesty. When I was a child, being ungrateful was one of the worst things you could be. It was on a par with the gravest sins in my mother's eyes: being unladylike and talking back (or having a mind of your own).
This is the same thing. Express your gratitude, fake it if you have to, otherwise, you will offend God or the Universe or whatever Superpower provides all the things that you want and need in life. And underlying it all is a belief that we need to do this because we don’t really deserve it. We don’t deserve to be happy, we don’t deserve to feel fulfilled or at peace or have love in our lives or win the lottery or own a home or be successful or admired or have 25,000 gazillion followers or facebook friends, so we have to make ourselves jump through a series of hoops posing as spiritual rituals or ways of betterment, the modern day equivalent of sacrificing a few virgins in exchange for a good harvest. And I think its bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with feeling thankful. It can even feel good to do good things or better yourself because you genuinely want to. But start making gratefulness compulsory, or a step in a plan to guaranteed affluence and bliss, and any natural feelings of thankfulness that might have arisen will start to turn into a resentful burden of obligation. Not only that, your face will turn to shiny plastic and you won't notice.
Now that you’ve read that are you thinking, Oh my god, how can she say that? Now god’s gonna strike her down with cancer to teach her a lesson. Well if you did, just think about it. Do you really believe that if you aren’t grateful enough, then you deserve whatever bad shit the Universe has to throw at you? If you do then maybe you need reverb10. As for me, I’ve had enough.
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