Category Archives: Better Now

Use for the daily ‘being a better man’ activities

Death in the Line of Duty

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http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/2015/10/02/police-suicide-second-class-death

I read the above article and it made me wonder what recognition is right for all Police and the duties they undertake….

Everyone gets a Medal for coming to work, yet how we die, or are injured in ‘the line of duty’ provides no guarantee of medals or recognition.

All Police are brave: why?

Because they go to work each day not to face the dangers, but knowing they may be there, and going anyway.

Sometimes those dangers, those horrors and the sadness they encounter hurts them: it breaks their bones, makes them bleed and often breaks their spirit:

Some get better, some struggle on, some die.

It matters not in the end the medals they receive, it only matters that we know, even if that knowing is by a few, in times of silence, and remembrance, that in the line of duty they served others; and the injuries and the pain and the anguish, they took was always for those they served:

and they did it willingly, often eagerly, but always in service, and always in the line of duty.

History will show, often slowly, that medals will be given, and monuments erected, and heroes mourned, only when we understand that the greatest sacrifices were made, without thought of those medals and monuments, but for our fellow man, in the line of duty: no matter how much at the time they hated us, or refused to recognise us, or forgot us, or didn’t live the pain that we felt, or how, what we did, for them, willingly, caused us to lose ourselves.

I want no medals, no monuments:
I want no accolades, or cheers, or parades, or commendations:

I want it to stop:

when the horrors are too much,
the pain to great,
when the sadness wont leave,
the images just wont go away,

when the greatest fear is, being alone.

I want my brother, my sister, my boss, to reach down and extend their hand, to help me up, when I stumble, and if I fall.

Better Video Blog?

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Well after (again) a bit of an absence from writing I have decided to return with a ‘vengeance’ and start posting again and recording a ‘video blog’ on YouTube.

Why?

Well, my opening video explains most of it, in that the world has got ‘fast’.

I decided I needed to speed up with it or get left behind.  Bearing in mind being left behind may not be such a bad thing!  I hope you enjoy my video blogs – some of them will go over the other posts I have made here, and hopefully make more sense!

Enjoy.

Click on the link here: https://youtu.be/5VuS5xyVwA8

Better Knowledge

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I haven’t written a post for awhile as I have been reading and …… well, thinking.

I realised that although I think I know a lot of stuff there was a lot of stuff I didn’t know about.  I have been increasingly curious about ‘why I am here and what is the point’.Screen Shot 2015-11-06 at 5.22.09 pm

Yes, I know that we are all plagued with the age old question “what is the meaning of life” – but, in actual fact I don’t think we are….  I think the majority of the time we are just going about living, oblivious to our inevitable deaths which so often appear to be a surprise and a period of intense grief to those remaining…. and, then of course we go on with our lives again.

I am sure that prior to that moment there must be something more important than the latest episode of The Bachelorette, the price of the new iPhone (Do I really, really, need my phone upgraded – Why?) and indulging in the latest ‘pleasure’ because the Merchants of Misery (The Media) tell me that it IS the latest pleasure.

So, where have I been for the last month – I have been thinking and reading and then thinking about what I had read – and then researching and thinking and writing down what I had researched, thought about and read.

I was helped along when the 24 year old son of a friend was chatting to me; he was studying music and said that throughout history the particular period in time was reflected in the music – he gave examples of during the 60’s it was all very ‘free’, it go angry in the 70’s because of war and injustice and then down right radical in the 80’s with punk rock and anarchy being the musical cry…. he then said, he was looking at music over the last 10 or 15 years and it was just a mess – there was no theme and there was no meaning – it was noise for noise sake and for sales profits… he said he was disillusioned as it reflected the world.  This philosophical observation by a 24 year old, was further emphasised by the other philosophical blurbs of my children, my favourite which is there explanation and my  inability to understand that 40 text messages back a forward was a better method to organise getting together, than a 30 second phone call.

I take my children’s observations of the world with the same grains of salt that no doubt my parents took with my observations of the world.  However….. the real moment came when I was driving in the car and heard a song come on the radio (my wife told me this morning that it had hit number 1 on iTines!) that described a guy going into buy a moped – are you fucking kidding me!

I agreed instantly with my 24 year old philosopher – todays music is lost – there is no generational theme, no undercurrent of meaning, no soul – it is a reflection of the world created by the  Merchants of Misery (The Media) selling us more crap so that we buy more crap – all to seek pleasure in the way they tell us to – ultimately, so we will buy more crap.

Pleasure is no happiness; pleasure is not meaning; and telling me about buying a moped is no fucking music!!!

Where has all the knowledge gone about what is important and what has meaning.

Maybe, I have answered my own question – the meaning has gone in the music because we have lost the meaning to our lives.  We have lost some ‘depth’ to our existence.

In my reading and my thinking and my writing, my writing mainly consisting of mad notes scribbled on random piece of paper, I decided that society has lost some valuable knowledge about living that has been replaced with bad music, instant gratification, new stuff every week and striving for things that don’t only not matter but we can’t actually identify what they are.

My example of this is asking people this very simple question:

If you could be anything you want, where money was not really a consideration; where you would be doing something that was your passion: where you know doing it everyday would make you happy.  What would you be?”

I often clarify this by saying, “Well I always wanted to fly jets, and be an astronaut” but know that is not very likely and as it turns out it was not really my passion – just a fantasy.  So “What would you be” – “What would you do”.

Strangely enough, the majority of people I ask say “I don’t know?” – now I ask this to people of all ages and the answer in about 90% of cases is “I don’t know” – well, I have one think to say to that, how fucking sad.  It would be fair enough that you never attain your dreams – but, it is a tragedy to never have any!

Of course there are the ‘trap’ answers that actually mean nothing:
“I want to be happy”
“I want to be rich”

I reply – define happy – define rich and if you were rich what would you do? Would you be happy?

We are all so confused or worse – not thinking about our lives.   Why?

Because, nobody taught us how to think about our lives.  Yeah, we all went to school and learned stuff that we thought was shit at the time and turned out to be shit – but most of that ‘learning’ was really ‘educating’ as it was designed to teach us a few fundamentals to get us through (how to read, basic maths, the times table) but, actually the rest was teaching us how to think – I don’t think our current teachers even understand this concept.

So, we leave school being able to read and write and have a good basis for surviving in the world…… really?  Where is the REAL KNOWLEGE about living IN the world.  The REAL knowledge is actually about other people and us; how to get along.  Where were all the lessons on picking a partner, picking friends, getting on with people, how to deal with conflict, how to deal with loss and heart ache, how to be happy is a world that may be unfair and tragic through no fault of your own.Screen Shot 2015-11-06 at 5.25.52 pm

Life may actually be able to teach you about life – and, experience is the best teacher, BUT, why do we not a least try to teach our kids, and each other (it is never too late) that the real meaning of life and the real lessons in life are not about Nikes, and iPhones, and stuff, and the noise of the Merchants of Misery, but, how I get along with society, my neighbour, my family, my partner and most of all myself.

 

 

Better in the Line of Duty

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I started writing this post a couple of weeks ago and only got to the heading.  I was going to write about the difference between having a job and doing a ‘duty’.

The heading just sat there because I was unable to find the words which I thought were appropriate to explain the difference – especially considering I was going to mainly write about the Police.  The Police, in addition, for some time have been trying to gain status as a ‘profession’ – like lawyers! (Why?)   I do understand that the ‘big Police machine’ is now trying to run like a corporation, there is always a couple of things that I believe have been forgotten.  The Police is a job, a vocation, a career and a duty of SERVICE.  In addition those undertaking this duty of service have all sworn an OATH.  To a lot of people this oath may not seem much, but with it comes an obligation to serve and to do your duty.  I am pretty sure there are not too many jobs where people swear on the Bible, or the Koran or take the affirmation that they will serve and do their duty.  I know when I took the oath it was with my head and my heart.

These are all great words, often thrown about by the ‘Merchants of Misery’ (the Media) which in the end actually lose their meaning; I think Richie Benaud put his cricket commentary career into perspective about what words to use when he said “The Titanic was a tragedy, the Ethiopian drought a disaster, and neither bears any relation to a dropped catch.”

So often words are thrown about; words such a tragedy, hero, sacrifice, etc etc.

Screen Shot 2015-09-29 at 10.14.55So, I was wondering how I was going to explain the word ‘duty’.

Why is it that swearing an ‘oath’ and doing things ‘in the line of duty’ is so special.

Well, on 29th September 2015, the words came to me in a Facebook Post I wrote.  I got up in the morning knowing it was National Police Remembrance Day and was shocked that there was not one mention of it in the media – even today, the day has passed, unnoticed by most.  After I scanned the news I sat down and wrote a few words from my heart and posted it onto Facebook.  In the last 24 hours those few words have been shared and ‘Liked’ numerous times and comments have all been from those showing respect, sympathy, sadness, pride, thanks and unfortunately first hand knowledge.

So, I am sharing them here again, because this is my place, this is where my words often miss the filter of embarrassment, sadness, horror, ego and worrying about what others will think.  I am also sharing these words because I just can’t get them out of my head and that feeling out of my heart:

I sometimes think that my life is a bit hard, I have been treated unfairly or was not given the opportunities I always wanted….

 

I sometimes think that other people have it better than me….

 

I sometimes think about working too hard, paying too many bills, how traffic is shit, food is expensive, holidays seen to short, the news is always bad on TV, the bachelor picked the wrong girl and the lawn needs a mow….

 

I sometimes think about my mates in the Police who will never get to complain about these things again.

 

They will never get to whinge about the footy, have a beer with their mates, hug their wives or husbands and watch their kids grow up.

 

I sometimes think about them; I often think about them when we are talking about the ‘good jobs’, the ‘big jobs’, the ‘funny jobs’ and the stories that can go on all night and get bigger, better and funnier over the years.

 

I sometimes think about them because they died, or were killed or were murdered, doing their job. I sometimes think about the others, the ones that lost the battle with themselves and the things they had seen.

 

I sometimes hunt through old boxes of real photos and hundreds of files of digital photos, just to see their face one more time – in a different time.

 

If I say I sometimes think about them, I perhaps lied a little; I think about them often; I am proud to be counted in the job they were a part of; the family we were a part of – although often dysfunctional like any family – it is still a family!

 

I sometimes think about them, and I am sad, and proud, and feel their loss.

 

Today I posted on Facebook because it is National Police Remembrance Day, but tomorrow they will still not be here, I will miss them, I will look at their photos, I will remember their stories (because through those stories they live forever), I will think of their families, I will think of their communities; all of who were a little better because of their service.

 

Also, because tomorrow a bunch of men and women in blue, will go out and do it all again; without fear from the loss of their mates; now that’s brave; that’s what makes the Police.

 

RIP heroes.

Better at Father’s Day

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I thought I should write something for Father’s Day.

Firstly, what is Father’s Day – is it a day we celebrate being fathers or a day we are celebrated as being fathers.  What is the difference.  I think it is the difference between wanting to be recognised as being a father and being grateful for being a father.

I think I am the latter.Screen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.31.26

I don’t know if it is because I am getting older (and hopefully wiser) that I spend a lot more time being grateful for what I have as opposed to lamenting and complaining about what I don’t have.

I have 5 children; three of my own and 2 step children.  I reckon I’m lucky.  Of course there are days when I am plotting their deaths and I am sure there are days when they are actually in the process of having me assassinated; but, over all it is a privilege to have children (assassination and death plots aside!).  Not only is it a privilege to have children, it is a privilege to have children and live in Australia, where they have a pretty reasonable chance of growing up happy – where in a lot of other places in the world the chances of them even growing up are pretty slim.

I suppose as a father my main responsibility is to provide a sense of hope that although the world may at times be a pretty nasty and unfair place, there is a good chance of finding happiness.

I also think that the saying that we are not as smart as our children until they are at least 25 is as equally valid as realising that they are just doing what we did when we were young but we don’t recognise it, well basically ever, and when we do, we try to stop them.  I keep asking myself the question, Why?  And, I actually can’t think of a valid reason.  Yes, we may do this when they are younger to stop them putting a knife in the powerpoint or walking in front of traffic, but, do we have a right, or even a misplaced sense of responsibility in doing this when they are teenager, young adults, or even the 20+ adults that just wont leave home!

IScreen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.34.06f you would have asked me this question a few years ago, or perhaps even a few months ago, I would have raved on about discipline, parental responsibility, experience, etc etc….  well, basically all the stuff my parents said to me.  But, today, not just because it’s father’s day, but today, after doing a reasonable job of being the benevolent family dictator, without the benevolence, I have realised that my responsibility as a father is not just discipline, home defence, no one sitting in my favourite chair, sitting at the head of the table and mowing the law.
My job is safety.

Not the home defence safety, not the child proof lock of the medicine cabinet safety, not the boyfriend/girlfriend assessment safety, not the ‘your grounded’ safety….  but the safety that involves being someone your children can trust.

It involves different safety codes that don’t involve a hi-Viz vest and an iron fist.

  • The safety to tell the truth
  • The safety to ask questions
  • The safety to express as opinion
  • The safety to make mistakes
  • The safety to always call home home
  • The safety of a hug
  • The safety of unconditional love
  • The safety of asking advice and ignoring it
  • The safety of leading their life their way
  • The safety of knowing Mum and Dad, Step Mum and Step Dad, will be proud of me for being me
  • The safety of forgiveness

I have decided that Father’s Day is not about being worshiped with a coffee cup saying “Worlds Greatest Dad”, but a day for me, the father, to be grateful that with all my faults, I still get to feel that pang in my chest when I think of my children, and despite everything past and all things future, I know that being a Father is a privilege that provides no greater love in your life.

Better at Dealing with Dickheads

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Screen Shot 2015-09-02 at 15.49.22
I try to write my posts about profound and important things, you know, the stuff that fills our heads but often gets overlooked because life gets in the way.

Often, it is not life that gets in the way though, it is the people that seem to be from a different planet…. let’s call them ‘dickheads.’

I have spent my life dealing with dickheads and have even written a previous post about the ‘scientific name’ which is ‘6 percenters’  (Click here to my link about 6 percenters…. or just read on and you’ll get the point.)

Let’s get an analysis of your average dickhead;  I’ll make it simple….

They just get in the way of having a normal day, with normal stuff and a reasonably pleasant journey through the stuff that fills our days.  They are the people that either fuck up the line in the shop or fuck up our entire life… but, the thing is that they are just the same in all aspects of life. Mainly it is just the amount of damage they actually are allowed to create that is different.

I say ‘allowed to create’ as your average dickhead is not measuring their damage but just going about creating it, oblivious to the existence of the rest of us.

You can’t hate them (that just plays into their game). You can’t pity them because you hate them too much.

Lets again look at the average dickhead.  We allow them to be a part of our life.  That is the point.  They want us to say ‘no’ when they ask a question so that they can argue with us; they want us to say ‘yes’ to a question (often a stupid question) so that they can feel empowered by our acquiescence to their stupidity.  You are getting the point, at this point, aren’t you?  You can not reason or negotiate with a dickhead – they are just a dickhead.

It is also important to realise that most dickheads can be identified immediately after you meet them – it is usually through an apology from the person that introduced them, who says “So-and-So is a bit different but you get used to them” – whoop whoop Dickhead alert!  Do not make this parson your friend – even their friends cautioned you about being their friend – were you listening!

I myself may have fallen into this category in the past, but, I have the unfortunate position of now realising it.  When this happens the only time you can be a dickhead is when you allow yourself to fall into the dickhead trap – which of course is not actually believing that you are a dickhead, when you are.

Screen Shot 2015-09-02 at 16.57.35Example: the average dickhead will often have manipulated themselves into a position of authority .  The reason this has happened is that everyone else thought that they were the only one that thought this person was a dickhead  and didn’t want to speak out in the event that everyone else thought they were the dickhead.  Hence the dickheads rule supreme because everyone else who is not a dickhead doesn’t want to be one.  It is like the old catch 22 movie – in that you only realise you are a dickhead when you are not one, and if you are one you never realise you are.

Your average, in authority, dickhead, will often ask a question looking for an argument… they want you to say ‘no’.  DO NOT FALL FOR THIS TRAP!!!   In the event that a dickhead asks you to do something that is often very dickheadish in it’s totality, just say YES.  Okay, I know this sounds stupid, but, just reflect for a moment the reason they asked the question in the first place, which of course was hoping that you would say ‘no’.  By saying ‘yes’, this throws the dickhead modus operandi into complete chaos.  They will often question you more about your positive response to what may even spark in them the realisation that what they are asking you is… well let’s face it… often just fucking stupid.  The trick here is to stay the course… continue to agree and and say ‘yes’ to whatever absurdity they suggest or require of you.  This will often lead to the situation where they will leave, empowered in dickheadologistical self assurance, thinking that you are about to get on with the ridiculous task or request they have just set.

Now, the real empowerment of dealing with dickheads comes to the fore.   It is this.  You just don’t do it.  Yes, you said ‘yes’, and they believe you said ‘yes’ and that is what they heard.  They leave thinking that this thing is to be done.  …and, well you just don’t.  The absolute glory of dealing with this situation is that in the event that they ever come back and ask you if you did this thing, you just say ‘yes’.  If they have evidence that you didn’t do it, you just say sorry… they may yell at you and tell you to do it again… and of course you say ‘yes’, and of course you just don’t do it again.  This circle of request, non action, enquiry, apology, request, no action…has a finite life.  Why?  Well, mainly because the average dickhead has too many things to be a dickhead about to worry about you.

Eventually they will not be getting the required amount of angst to drive their motor.  They, in the end, don’t even go away angry… they just go away.  This may sound too simplistic, but give it a try – of course if you are a dickhead, you will not even understand this and probably write a reply to this post complaining about the grammar or spelling… sorry about that, I will correct it in the second draft.

Okay; one dickhead dealt with – that is the authoritarian dickhead.  What about the subordinate dickhead.  Oh, the glory in this solution is beyond belief.  You just ask them what they want.  Don’t argue with them about what you want (bearing in mind if you do this you run the risk of you becoming a dickhead).  Just ask in the simplest of terms what is it that they want.  Of course this confused them, as it is their one task in life to upset anyone making a request of them… you may get any sort of reply from the outlandish to the immediate submission to your authority.  Of course nothing they say makes any differencScreen Shot 2015-09-02 at 15.52.53e to your next tactic – just give them what they want.  Sound absurd, but think about it.  They are a dickhead and just want to keep asking you for things that you cannot give – so turn the tables on them and ask them what they want.  When they request it, give it to them – dickhead problem solved as they have nothing to argue about.  Of course most times it won’t get to this as merely  asking them what they want will throw them into confusion as what they really want, deep down, it to shit you off and be a dickhead.  Of course later on when it all turns to shit, you just blame them anyway as you used that magnificent get our of gaol free card… delegation.

Dealing with dickheads is only hard if you let them make it hard.

Although the dickhead tactic is to make it appear as if it is all about them, really it is all just about shitting you off and fucking up your day – DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN!  Follow the simple rules recapped below:

  • Say ‘yes’ to dickhead requests (remember they WANT you to say ‘no’ to argue)
  • Always ask a dickhead what they want and give it to them (this confuses them and will often end in them not doing anything, which is good as they then don’t fuck stuff up)
  • In the event point 1 and 2 fail – just walk away – say nothing, ignore their request to continue the conversation – walk away… slowly, if possible, very slowly; do not look back, do not engage with them.  When you return at some time in the future (10 minutes to 4 hours is usually enough), pretend that it never happened.  If they ask what happened just say you couldn’t stay any longer and leave it at that.  They are confused as there was no confrontation. In the future when you start to turn away they will become afraid and do whatever you want.

Also remember dealing with dickheads should be fun.  Never get angry as this is their fuel. Smiles and the ‘yes’ word are their enemies.

Finally, your average dickhead is only in your life for a short time.  Eventually they go away and you get to tell great stories about how you dealt with them.  I am certain that eventually all dickheads congregate together and just go to meetings (see my recommendations on dealing with meetings here).

Remember, NEVER play their game their way. If you do, you just become a dickhead.

 

Better Two Funerals and a Letter

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I recently went to two funerals – two days in a row!2009-06-09 Me Jo Short Hol 066

I had only heard about each funeral in the morning and changed my day to go to each.  I cancelled my appointments and rescheduled – well, everything I had to do – all the necessary parts of life, that can’t wait, on these days, just had to wait…

Both were Mums. One left this world after a long life and one left this world with a long life
unspent.

The mourners were the family and close friends.  The absent, were the acquaintances, the work colleagues and all the other people that we run around filling our lives with.
I was not there as a part of the families – I was not there as a life long close friend – I was not there for the Mums who we were mourning – I was there for the living.

I was there because the living need the living, to keep them living, when they mourn the dead.  It made me sad.

But, I was prouder than I was sadder.  I was there if needed.  Mostly I was there.

I drove home and watched the world of Mums, and Dads, and friends, and work colleagues, and acquaintances, all still running around filling their lives, because they were the living – it is a world of the living.

This is not the first time I have noticed that the living don’t notice that they are living.  They mourn the dead and then go to the shops.

As we get older there are less of us living who we know: fewer who were with us from the start; until eventually we may be lucky, or unlucky enough to be the last one that you really know – we are there sitting in our chair, watching ‘Days of Our Lives’, pissing our pants and waiting for our relatives to visit who never seem to come – at what stage do we become irrelevant as part of the living but not quiet yet one of the dead.  Does our funeral signify a relief to the living, and perhaps to ourselves – or is it just another occasion for the living to be too busy to attend.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one.

At one of the funerals the poem “The Dash’ by Linda Ellis was read : which in part says:

….. he noted that first came the date of birth

and spoke the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between the years…..

Screen Shot 2015-08-13 at 17.12.14So even in death, it really is the living that matter.  It probably goes as far to say that it doesn’t really matter how you die, but how you live.  Yeah, it is tragic and sad when someone goes before their time, but when you go, surely that is your time.  It always surprises me, when we are surprised at death, as really, and literally, it is inevitable for all of us – it is just the timing and the length and quality of the dash that are different.

Not going to funerals is however a different thing to not going to just about anything else.  We can visit lots and lots after the first date, and be involved lots of times during the ‘dash’.  But after the second date, the celebration of the second date, that date has nothing after it for the person who’s name is above those dates and the dash.  I suppose it may well not matter because they will never know – only we, the living will.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one – but one funeral is inevitable for us all, we must attend ; no one else is on the compulsory list, no one else who is a part of the living are required.

Perhaps I go to funerals because it tells me a lot about the living – it tells me that my ‘dash’ is still there and there is yet one date to be written – and as with all, the length of the dash in undetermined, although always inevitable; but, most of all the quality of the dash can be changed in an instant – good or bad.

So, I will attend funerals to celebrate the insertion of the second date for someone else, and the continuation of my ‘dash’.  I may very well shed a tear for the Mum of my friend and the wife of my friend and the friend of my friend.  I may shed that tear for the dead and the living.

I read the ‘memorial card’ – the last letter written for the dead by the living.  The photo and verse that they choose to leave this world with.  That last memento of their ‘dash’ you get to hold in your hand.  And, then they are gone.  They live nowhere else other than in our thoughts – and perhaps more importantly in our deeds – deeds done in their name: deeds such as kindness, charity, fairness, forgiveness and love.  Deeds that start with “what would Mum/Dad/Wife/Husband/Child/Friend do, what would they be proud of me for….”

DSCN2413So, the second date is inserted for another, and the funeral has been, their final letter written and I am on my way to the shops.  I do the stuff that the living do.

I go home where I live my ‘dash’ and collect my mail on the way to the door.

There’s a letter.  Not junk mail, not bills, not a hastily written card for my birthday, not a personalised “To The Householder” envelope, but…. a letter.

It was from my friend, who is part of the living.

I had two funerals and a letter.  They were two long days that now they are over, seem too short.

I read my funeral cards and read my letter – two from the dead and one from the living.  All moments of time I can hold in my hand.

I’ll keep rescheduling and leave the living for a morning or an afternoon to go to farewell the dead.  It is the last date after the dash; it is their last letter that we get to hold.

I’ll also keep writing letters to the living; then when my second date is inserted they can keep that moment to remember our dash.

 

 

 

Better Oblivious

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I haven’t written for a while (the post Better an Avatar was written a while ago and I only just posted it recently).  The reason I haven’t written is that I have been living.

I had to feed the cat.
I had to pay my bills.
I had to go to that party.
I had to go to sport.
I had to do some shopping – to get stuff.
I had to organise stuff – to go with the stuff I bought.
I had to write a ‘to do’ list.
I had a meeting.

But, I had been living like that all my life.  I was going through the motions, doing stuff and getting stuff done.

Then the other day I was driving to do stuff and noticed that the road was full of other people driving to do their stuff.  One of them cut me off and I cut one of them off.  I got to where I was going and didn’t remember getting there, and then went hone and didn’t remember why it had been so important to just come from the place I had come from: but was glad it was done, as I had other stuff to do.Screen Shot 2015-08-07 at 01.41.07

I watched TV.

I got in the car the next day and did the same stuff all over again.

I stopped at the lights today and realised that we were all stopped at the lights:

Oblivious

Why is it when we are young the days are short and the years long; and as we get older the days are long and the years short….

Does our obliviousness to the world mean that eventually we go into oblivion oblivious.  Do we go into oblivion wondering when those short days got long and those long years got short.  Do we look back on those days and years and lament their passing or look to tomorrow and welcome the time – anytime – long or short, that we may have left.  Do we see the person we were yesterday and miss them, or do we notice the person we are today and plan for them to be better tomorrow.

(I have so much stuff to do tomorrow – do I really have time to be a better man?)

I can live my life oblivious and still be happy….
Probably happier than worrying about everything….
What are all these things, (what things?), things that I should worry about….?

Maybe they aren’t?  Maybe when I talked about my sphere of concern (see my post Better Authority Responsibility, Concern) expanding exponentially with every news cast and reaction to every advertisement to buy my next necessary possession, I realise that all the things are just things.  The main focus of my life is things and I don’t even know what the things are, and I most definitely don’t notice them.

My circle of concern has become so large that I can’t even see it and therefore are concerned about everything and nothing.

My concern about everything manifests itself in me noticing nothing – I am oblivious.

I was so oblivious that I was oblivious to being oblivious.

But, in that brief moment that you may notice your life, you have to find a way to capture it, to prolong it; prolong it, so that moment becomes your life.

Screen Shot 2015-08-07 at 01.51.59And…. this is not the first time it has happened.  I have just realised, noticed actually, that I wrote a post called Better off Oblivious about a year ago.  Perhaps our lives really are in seasons and at the moment the leaves are falling off and I am seeing the forrest for the first time – although it’s not the first time; it just seems that way.

Do we prolong the moments in our life to such an extent that they only ever become…. well, now.  Is there actually any other reality other than now.  I can’t live in the past.  I can’t live in the future.  It literally only leaves now.

If I am oblivious, I think what I am actually doing is being oblivious to now.  How can that be.

I am here.
It is now.
How can I not notice?

I think by noticing those oblivious around me, I should not be oblivious to me around them.  Do I see them, do they see me.  Are we too busy collecting all the stuff we can’t take with us to notice the stuff that is with us everyday – that stuff being me, now.

I don’t think I can help switching on autopilot when the road is straight and there aren’t too many bumps.  But what about that unexpected wind sheer or the motorist pulling out from the side street – does it switch of the autopilot or just make me pay attention to avoid my own death.  Is doing nothing other than avoiding death through slight corrections on the auto pilot actually a sort of walking death – are we all Zombies and don’t actually notice because we are all Zombies.  Are we undertaking normal Zombie behaviour and eating our own brains with advertising and the messages from the merchants of misery (the Media) because that is just what Zombies do.  Even if you notice you are a Zombie can you stop being one.

I think so.

As I sit on my death bed (that would be a living death bed if I was a Zombie!) do I feel the bed or do I feel those long years and those short days.  Is my last day the only day that I have actually lived because all those long years now seem so short and this last short day will shortly be gone forever and me with it.

If that day was today, would I be greeting oblivion, or heaven, or valhalla, or whatever it is you think you’re going to next, completely unaware as to where I am going or where I have actually been.  Probably.

So, I might just live this moment.  Because that’s all there really is.

(Fuck, I forgot to feed the cat!)

 

Better an Avatar

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I just watched the movie “Avatar” (yes, again!) and was fascinated by the phrase “I see you.”Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.34.42

Yes, it is a movie and not real, I understand that.  But, maybe, sometimes movies are Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.34.42reflections of not only the writers impression of the world, or his/her fantasy world but what the world perhaps is, or is not.

What is really meant by those prophetic lines in movies that seem to resonate with us.  I suppose we all have our favourites, but some you just can’t get out of your head; why?

“Carpe diem”
“ET phone home”
“Get busy living, or get busy dying”
“I’ll have what she’s having”
“May the Force be with you”

I remember reading once that a young science fiction writer wrote a story in college about a rocket ship journey into outer space: when he received his result for submitting the story his lecturer praised him about the phallic symbolism of the rocket ship and the deeper meaning of journeys into sexual exploration…. the writer said, he didn’t intend that, it was just a story about people on a rocket ship having an adventure in outer space!

But, all stories come from ‘real people’ which are later transferred into images, in our minds if we are reading it, or on the screen if we are watching it.

So, does the phrase in Avatar, “I see you” reflect what is happening in our world or what is not happening – did the writer here, translate something from the real world to the ‘fantasy’ world of movies and stories, or are all movies and stories really only reflections, often in distorted, or never imagined mirrors.

I think the ” I see you” is what we want in the world.

We want to be seen – not that 15 minutes of fame on the news, or the non reality of a reality TV show and the stardom of sporting super hero will probably elude most of us.

I think we all just want to be seen for who we are.

We want to be seen as someone who is a real person.  Not a number, not unimportant.  someone who may have a story, no matter how small; someone who wants to be happy; someone who most of all doesn’t want to be disregarded.Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.40.38

I once read a very insightful quote (which I will attempt to recite below but can’t remember the reference!):

“I’d rather be hated than disregarded”

Is the world we are in today, a world that is more connected than ever before with mobile phones, the internet, social media and an electronic device humming in our ears and flashing before our eyes constantly; are we actually blind.  Do we actually see each other.

Do we see the people in our lives everyday, or are we one of the people invisible to the world:

Do you see the service station attendant?
Do you see your neighbours?
Do you see the waiter?
Do you see the people behind the papers you shuffle?
Do you even see your own family?
Do you see yourself?

Maybe it is a case of seizing the day, phoning home, getting on with living, experiencing living and having some higher spirituality than a good selfie and the most ‘Likes’ on Facebook.

I see me, I see you.  Let’s get together some time and watch a movie.

 

 

 

“Carpe diem” – Dead Poets Society (1989)
“ET phone home” – The Extra-terrestrial (1982)
“Get busy living, or get busy dying” – The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
“I’ll have what she’s having” – When Harry Met Sally (1989)
“May the Force be with you” – Star Wars (1977)

Better Say it Now….

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I do have a lot more time on my hands lately working towards retirement, and have realised that a lot of what I used to talk about doesn’t appear to matter so much anymore.

I have also noticed that what is important to others, my friends, my work collegues, has just lost it’s urgent and imperative nature.  I have realised that a lot of what we talk about and say really is just the momentum of the rubbish that fills modern day life.

  • Is that report really urgent – or even important.Screen Shot 2015-07-10 at 11.21.59
  • Do we really care about that piece of office politics – does it even touch my life unless I talk about it.
  • Give me that 3 minutes back that I wasted reading that email.
  • Do I need to send that email – especially to confirm a conversation I just had with
    you.
  • I really can’t tolerate listening to you bitch about the same thing you have been bitching about for the last three (or even read 10) years in your job.
  • ….. and of course as I have said before, your ailments may be serious but they are not very interesting.

I wrote once before about the rituals of going to work, or even catching up with relatives and friends and we go through the motions – “Good-day, how are you” – “Fine, and you” – Yeah, great”.  Of course this is all thrown into turmoil when you say “How are you?” and they actually tell you – God, kill me!

Well that’s what I thought.  But, now I have a ‘but’ to my previous reasoning behind that.

Surely, me asking them how they are – even in an automated ritual – and them telling me is important.  It must be more important than the footy scores on the weekend?

Although lately I am watching more footy, not having been a real sports nut in the past, and I think I am beginning to understand – it is good fun, exciting and I now get how yelling at the TV can be very satisfying…  even if I don’t know every players name (who was ever born!) and their entire career and statistical history!  I also just realised that there is a sort of ‘sports spectator elitism’ – I am sure if next time I go to the pub and talk about the footy and can’t recite a blow for blow rendition of the entire game, I am some how tarnished as a ‘pretender’ and just doing it to ‘fit in’ – so I secretly sneak back to being a closet footy supporter and reading classic novels, appreciating art, wearing clothes other than track suits, continue to say Australia instead of Straya, watch the ABC (non footy shows), and have all my own teeth.  I have learned my lesson; so the next time I go to the pub and they ask me about the footy, I say I don’t follow it, they call me a poofta, it’s just easier!

So you are telling me how you really are?  But, I am busy and have to get to that meeting about forming a committee to develop an innovative planning proposal to segway our new Bullshit-Bingo1benchmark process into organisational synergy and value added people friendly systems.

The other day I went to the country town where I grew up as a kid.  In doing some business around town I came across an old school buddy.  I really enjoyed the chat and it was funny how, I think… we still thought about the same things – well sort of, it is a bit hard to explain…..  But, it was a connection, or reconnection, that I really enjoyed and still resonates with me now, a couple of days later.

I felt pretty good after talking to my ‘old mate’ and immediately it popped into my head to tell my Mum about it as she still has a great memory of all the ‘old town’ people……  then…..  I remembered, she died.

It is something that happens, I think, to all of us, that we want to ‘chat’ to someone and realise they are gone – either gone, dead – or gone, not in our lives anymore.

It is a bit sad, but it is sadder that we don’t actually say the things we want to say when they are around.  They are the moments, we all have them, when we are thinking of someone and say “I better give so-and-so a call’ and then life gets in the way (probably that meeting where we are still trying to work out what ‘synergy’ really means) and then the moment is lost and before we know it they may very well be completely lost.

It will always be the conversation we never had.

The other day I rang an old mate to say hello.  There is an amazing thing about mobiles phones, they have been around for a long time nowadays and people take them when they move house; plus there is Facebook and the interwebthing where you can always find someone – I think I have had the same mobile phone number for about 17 years!

So I rang my old mate and we went through the cordial hello’s, how are you (thank God he didn’t tell me!) and then he said “So, how can I help you?” and I said “You can’t, I just rang to say hello to me old mate and to see how you were going”.  There was silence for a moment, and he said, well thanks mate, I really appreciate that, good to here from you.  I then actually, asked him how he was going because I wanted to know!!!  ….. and then he told me, and I was interested, and I listened, and I cared …… and we had a great old chat; old mates talking shit.  Now we finished off that we would catch up for a coffee, and maybe we will, but now it doesn’t matter so much because we said what had to be said, what didn’t have to be said and were glad that it wasn’t too late.  I probably will give him another ring, and probably will catch up for a coffee.

So, if I ring you for no reason, this is probably the reason.  I’m sorry that it might come out of the blue and you may be busy – that’s okay, ring me back after the meeting and I walk out of mine to talk to you – I am actually interested in how you are – I can spare the time, because tomorrow, later, after the silly season, in the holidays, after I get this report finished….., may never come.Screen Shot 2015-07-10 at 11.24.37

So, I will finish with one of my favourite poems.

Sorry if I am repeating anything I have written before – it is just that nowadays,  I am just sitting down and writing as opposed to hyperlinking my life….  each thing that I have to say, I don’t put off, the excuses are only the ones I create…

 

The Indispensable Man

 

Sometimes when you’re feeling important

Sometimes when you’re ego’s in bloom

Sometimes when you take it for granted

You’re the best qualified man in the room

 

Sometimes when you think that your going

Will leave an un-fillable hole

Just follow these simple instructions

And see how it humbles your soul

 

Take a bucket and fill it with water

Put you hand in it up to the wrist

Take it out and the hole that’s remaining

Is a measure of how you’ll be missed

 

You can splash all you like as you enter

You can stir up the water galore

But wait and you’ll see in a moment

It looks just the same as before

 

The moral in this quaint example

Is just do the best that you can

Be proud of yourself and remember

There’s no indispensable man