Archive for November, 2007

30
Nov
07

On the shores of the Bosphorus

Well… time really does travel quickly. It’s nearly December, which means I’m traveling again.

This time tomorrow I’ll be flying across Europe to Istanbul. Somewhere I’ve always wanted to go see because of it’s incredibly rich history, diverse culture and beautiful buildings.

 I am also going because it is my lovely irish friend’s 40th birthday, and she wanted to do something different for her 40th. It’s going to be one hell of a girly long weekend.

First on the list to see: the Blue Mosque. Lifetime ambition realised. But just one of many…

 ~Normal service resumed next week.~

29
Nov
07

intimate(d)

They said familiarity breeds contempt
But is not love a familiar?
So said Shakespeare

To run or break free like the wind
That is the question
I would not rescind

And I would say
There’s always a way
And it might be different
Heaven sent
Not a dove:
Some evil angel called love

28
Nov
07

Guilt plea

This lunchtime I went off for a carefree wander. Mainly to get a bit of daylight because at this time of year we don’t get many hours of light this far north. So off I went for an hour’s dose of UV. I happened to wander into one of my favourite music shops: Fopp. It tends to carry more eclectic, harder to find music than the usual high street stores. So I thought I’d have a browse.

And there I was, right at the back of the store looking through a back catalogue of Soundgarden when I sensed a ‘presence’ to the left of me.

A woman stood staring intently at me before thrusting a leaflet at me.

At first I thought, perhaps she was an employee passing out some kind of promotional leaflet for the store, perhaps related to the upcoming Christmas period. I was mistaken.

She was actually begging, and the slip of paper she had passed to me bore a photocopied message stating she was a poverty stricken mother of four with no job and no money and no home. She still held a clutch of these slips in her hand, carefully prepared.

The first thing that struck me, after getting over the shock of being accosted inside a reputable store by a beggar, was the aggressive way she approached me. Also the fact that she had an expectant air as she then held her hand out expecting money.

Surprise turned to suppressed anger, as I politely told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t getting any money out of me and to please leave me alone. A lone mother of four would, for a start, be on all sorts of child benefits from the UK state, would be housed in emergency accommodation, and by no means should be walking the streets, let alone a shop store asking for money.

She didn’t move. I turned my back on her and continued to browse.

A moment later, she said “Excuse me.. excuse me…” so I turned around again and she thrust her hand straight up in front of me with a beckoning movement. ‘Give me money’ she motioned.

Anger turned into utter disbelief.

What right did she have to hassle my personal space and demand money out of me?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a scrooge, I am not mean spirited – I donate to charities, and when I’ve seen girls out on the street looking rough on cold, wet nights, I’ve done the bleeding heart and given them money.

I’ve been down on my luck in the past too, and know how it feels to wonder how I’m going to make £10 last me an entire week. I appreciate rough times and how it can be.

What I do not appreciate is aggressive begging, and someone standing there who believes they will get something for nothing simply by being a bully.

So, biting my lip, with equally aggressive body language, I said in measured, cold, clipped tones, ‘Go Away and Stop Hassling Me’. She stood firm, I was blocked in a corner, so then I moved towards her waving my hand saying in mocking terms ‘Bye.. Bye… ‘ I had my back up against the wall and I was riled.

She took the hint and left.

First I felt guilty, then quite shaky. I couldn’t even concentrate on the music I’d been looking at – my little Zen bubble had completely popped.

I took a deep breath and put things into focus.

Why should I feel guilty for protecting my own space? And simply because someone is down on their luck, does not give them the inalienable right to walk up to you and demand money and get it.

A little politeness goes a damned long way in this world, and she was anything but polite.

27
Nov
07

Dear God


In 1986 the new wave UK band XTC released a song called Dear God. The song’s lyrics carry an anti-God sentiment which caused a little bit of a hoo hah in the US amongst more conservative Christian groups because of the lyrics which could be interpreted as atheistic or dystheistic.
I listened to the song again last night after an absence of probably a good 10, 15 years. And it struck me that in those days a song like that could be played on the radio airwaves, and perhaps create some air of dissent but that would be the end of that.

These days? I have a feeling it wouldn’t even make it to the play list. Not because the lyrics are particularly sensitive… they’re actually quite tame, but because of the station’s fear of reprisals from over reactive fundamentalist groups.

A personal perception is that the world as a whole, not just the good ol US of A, has become so much more reactive to issues of religion combined with politics.

And that’s the key issue.

In days gone by, secularism was the norm, with religion kept separate from state. They were not combined. Combining them is a recipe for disaster. Because government and law should be based on logic, reason and debate. Not faith. Faith is when you give up thinking and simply believe in something because someone else told you ‘this is the right thing to do’.

And well, isn’t it a wonderful relief not to have to think about actions when you have a directive from ‘God’?

The thing that scares me the most is that certain powerful administrations are currently under the influence of people who base their opinions on ‘faith’ – their ‘belief’ that a course of action is the right one to take.

Not because they have made a reasoned, informed, logical approach to a problem based on collated information presented to them in reports and through experienced advisors… but because their religion has a say in how they think. They believe something to be the right course of action rather than thinking it is the right course of action. And in one particular case, it is rumoured that decisions were made because God, personally ‘told’ said powerful political leader, to take that course of action.

And that scares me. Because when you stop thinking for yourself based on gathered, up to date information, and take unilateral decisions based on faith alone, then you go back to a world of fear based on ignorance.

And in a world of instantaneous information through the touch of a button via the world wide web and mass communication, that concept is almost unthinkable. But the unthinkable happens on a day to day basis. Usually because someone refuses to think.

26
Nov
07

morning call


Alarm calls and eyes open

Snap response with dreams forgotten

Leapt from bed and off she sped

Clambering shower – clean teeth – comb hair

Half open eyes, half awake, don’t care

On automatic, she pours the coffee

Instant kick of caffeine fix me… up

And off towards the door, running

Skirt on, shirt open, fumbled fingers latching

Buttons closed, coat swirled, scarf curled

And quickly steps and clicks and pulls the door

Ice cold air hits hard, sharp breath for more

And wakening, enters the white, bright day

Merging into the chaotic people fray.

25
Nov
07

Dreams

Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It’s only me
Who wants to wrap around your dreams and…
Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?

~Dreams, Fleetwood Mac

I had a restless night last night.. full of vivid dreams. I often have full-on technicolour lucid dreams, but last night was particularly intense.

What I like about my dreams is how they convey simple messages to me from the subconscious through a visual language.

For instance: I found myself standing at the top of a fire escape, with two other girls who I knew. We were looking down, knowing we had to get to the bottom and quickly – something or someone was chasing us and was catching up. There was a definite smell of fear in the air.

Cars passed by under us, and some drivers could see us, as I clambered onto the top rail. The steps to the fire escape, for some reason were inaccessible. I teetered on the edge, should I jump? It was a 20 – 30 feet drop – I’d break something… One driver even screeched to a halt because he didn’t want me landing on his car.

And then I stopped. And focused, and swung around to the side of the escape landing and saw that the structure was supported by intermittent rungs. I carefully lowered myself down, step by hesitant step. Each was uncertain because of the slippiness of the black painted ironwork, and the length between each rung. But I clambered slowly down to the bottom, to safe ground.

Illustratory indeed. Take a step back and look at this objectively.

You have an unnamed fear approaching and you have to flee. You need to escape (the fire escape) , but how? You want to take the easy route out and jump – but in taking one large jump, you will break something i.e. if I do this in one rushed action, I will hurt myself. So I seek out another way and hesitantly slow down, and take things on step by step (slow measured steps instead of one rushed action)… thus reaching the ground, and resolving my issues.

Dreams are useful. They untangle your mind’s trash from the waking hours.

Needless to say that dream carried on from there, but this was simply a vaguely illustrative example.

But then again.. we have those dreams that just don’t make any sense at all.. how do I explain wandering down an endless spiraled corridor, full of art treasures, only to find I reach the start again looking at a beautiful lily plant in full bloom? It’s like I’m trapped in an Escher nightmare.

Mind you the one with the full on high fantasy battle with dragons, elves and a pack of dancing dwarves was a doozy.

Brains are stange things and the mind’s furniture that resides within is even stranger…

24
Nov
07

Drowning by numbers

I’m adding 2 + 2 and getting 3
Don’t you see?
I’m not 4 x 4
I’m not sure I know the score
Feeling at 6’s n 7’s
I ain’t taking 11’s
I’ve got next to 0 idea
But I got 0 fear
Thought I had a 2 4 1 offer
But I still ain’t sure
All’s said n done
All I wanted was a 1 on 1

22
Nov
07

Incision

Cut the knife deep, she said
As the skin slipped open
Like soft butter and red
Oozed, a trickle, then
Warm winding scarlet flow
She let it go
And a little piece of hurt slipped out
Like steam on a winter’s day
No more a screaming internal shout
A whisper, uttered, another way
Of silently expelling
Utterly repelling
Hot anger
Out cold.

20
Nov
07

Spinning Top

Some days, you walk out the door and the day just takes off at dizzying speed, and just doesn’t let up. Despite your best attempts to slam the breaks on. Today is one of those days. For some reason, on the bus into work we hit a mass of road works which had miraculously appeared overnight (Edinburgh Council’s Road Works Department practice the Dark Arts, I am convinced of it). This resulted in a frustrated bus driver, grumpy passengers, and me hauling my arse into work at breakneck speed, (nearly broken ankle) as I ran down the road once getting off the bus.

The merriment continued once in the office where, for some reason, perhaps that Mars is in retrograde motion, and Pluto is maybe in opposition to Mercury, but the phones calls from clients went through the roof, fellow workers got rather stressed, and the mood became frantic.

It’s now lunchtime and things are starting to calm down a little, but I won’t hold my breath. For a start I am now wired on three cups of black coffee.

That’s usually my maximum for the day and it’s just turned 12.

I think, sometimes, some people perhaps enjoy being overly busy, getting caught up in the office melodrama because, look, they’re having a crisis, and coping with it – and that must make them appear so efficient and fabulous, smiling through gritted teeth, an embattled warrior riding the wave of chaos like a full blooded Valkyrie. And just in case you missed it – they’re careering around the office with a vortex tailwind leaving papers flitting gently back down to earth, making loud sighing noises and stomping heftily across the floor like a one-man-band herd of elephants with purpose. Just to let you know they’re on important business.

To be honest, it doesn’t prove anything. It proves you can keep calm under pressure, perhaps. But it hasn’t solved world wars, they haven’t had a ground breaking medical discovery nor found a Nobel peacekeeping prize worthy scientific innovation. In the whirlwind of noise, huge sighs and performances worthy of an Oscar, all it has resulted in, is the creation of extra stress amongst fellow work colleagues who started the day off in a vaguely zen mode.

There are definite downsides to working in an open plan office.

Still. There are ways to deal with this and to remain focused upon your own equally as important workload. The psychological bubble is my favourite. Visualise a large, translucent bubble around yourself. A delineation, a marker point, a boundary: where invasion stops and you keep irritation at arms length. People usually, sense the aura of non-reaction and calm and slow down, quieten and approach with caution. It is, usually, quite effective.

In those cases where someone is intent on invading that personal space, listen quietly, nod appreciatively, raise the stopping hand and tell them you will deal with their request, in turn, when appropriate.

Failing that, retire to the nearest watering hole and order a double gin.

18
Nov
07

地形 – terra in

Sun Tzu
said, choose the higher ground:

let your opponent
come to you.

in mind and heart
I am sound

practicing the art
of breaking ground
deep breath….
fear is no longer my little death

an air of reprieve
I would not leave
resolved, I stay
musing, on which chess piece next comes to play…