“The man to whom little is not enough will not benefit from more.” Saint Columbanus. A Saint Patrick’s Day message from the other one. A dozen-and-one wise words on our insatiable appetite for more. When I was a child, or even a young adult, or even a middle-aged woman, I used to marvel at the … Continue reading More
What would it be like to be unrelentingly positive for one day? For the inside thoughts and outside spoken words all to be ‘up’. To watch the sneaky negativity or melancholy and flip it before it takes hold. It started out as an easy exercise to maintain. The daybreak was beautiful: a cloudless day illuminated … Continue reading Weather Patterns
Overheard on the radio: manipulate the brain and one’s experience changes. It’s the most obvious statement in the world, but how to pull it off? I refuse to become toxically positive and shut out all negativities. Is there an acceptable ratio of optimism versus pessimism to aim for? Perhaps a 10% pessimism weighting might be … Continue reading One Week
Merry melancholy. I’m shamelessly stealing these two words from a writer friend who sent me a message earlier in the week, and this is how she signed off. How right she is about the discordant juxtaposition of sadness and joy at Christmas and New Year. In another message, someone else put to me this way: … Continue reading Merry Melancholy
In this place there is no bedtime and no set time to rise, both are done in keeping with one’s mood, whim, energies. In this place there is always energy. This place has loose joints, vitality, a spring in its step. Here, skin is smooth, wrinkles are fine tracings of smile lines, worries are pushed … Continue reading Summer at Home
Either her mum – if she was taking the boy to football – would drop her off, or I would drive the mile through the park to collect her. For a while, I themed our dinners by colour. Accidentally at first, a game we stumbled upon because of orange week – the week we had … Continue reading Every End Is A New Beginning
I love potatoes and I love Barry Manilow. I bet that Barry loves potatoes too because his mother was Irish, and I have yet to meet an Irish person who does not hold a solemn appreciation for the potato. Mind you, Barry doesn’t have the figure of a man who enjoys his spuds; he is … Continue reading I Love You Barry Manilow
Games are easily mastered with only three years of life experience in your bones. Nothing about the world has made you cynical, nothing or no one makes you feel foolish. A game is whatever you think of, and whatever you think of is endlessly fascinating, hilarious, wonderful. The almost three-year-old had found the bouncy egg, … Continue reading The Game of Life
I think about you often, not as a continuum, not as a timeline, but as something whole, rounded, and intact, a ready-made container within which is everything I require for my life. I think of you as an old-fashioned trunk, one that might have accompanied someone on a passage to India a hundred years ago. … Continue reading Monologue with Life
Five people holding hands and dancing in a circle. Dance (La Danse) is a 1910 painting by Matisse. The bodies are painted red, they dance on a mound of green, the backdrop behind them (sky?) is blue, and they are naked. The colours are vibrant – two primary colours, one secondary – and the simple, primitive style … Continue reading Gotta Dance
My Edinburgh Press 