Small consolations. That’s what the last year has been full of. We are told to observe them, to remember that life is made up of them, a series of tiny moments, most of which we dismiss as inconsequential. Yet the more we take notice of the small consolations, the more apparent it is that they … Continue reading A Year of Consolation
When children do it, it is said to be normal; their imaginary friends are thought of as the captivating make-believe workings of a lively mind. When grown-ups do it, and are either silly or plucky enough to tell anyone, they are in danger of being looked at askew (at best) or being told to immediately … Continue reading Imaginary Friends
I am slowly reading Flann O’Brien’s Irish classic, The Third Policeman. Slowly, because of his complex circumlocution, or rather, that of his characters, all of whom have a long-winded way of saying things. When eventually they do get to the point, it is rather unclear what that point might be, which, in itself might be … Continue reading The Courage to Say No
One of the things that lifted my mood during the week was listening to Surfer Girl by the Beach Boys. Let’s face it, even when the Beach Boys are singing something sad, they lift your mood in that poignant, feel-good, ‘oh how I yearn to wear a pair of pink pedal-pushers and feel the sand … Continue reading Accentuate The Positive
Care nothing about getting food all over your clothes, what are washing machines for? Sit on the grass anyway, a damp and dirty bum isn’t so bad when you are up and moving. Mud on your knees, so what? Take a big drink of water and swish it all around the inside of your mouth … Continue reading How To Turn an Adult Into a Child
It changes through life, the thing you turn to when the going gets tough; the thing you do to unwind and to clear your head. Some people go off and pound the streets, shove in their ear-pods (or not) and let the pavement absorb their problems with a brisk walk or a long run. And … Continue reading The Thing You Turn To
I left school thirty years ago. Thrown on life’s waves – that’s how I looked upon it. It was a fracture, something daunting, a major life change to be survived rather than to be relished. At least that’s how I think I felt, memory does play funny tricks on the truth. I loved school; I … Continue reading From The Bottom Of My Pencil Case
I had never heard the phrase before and then (how does this happen?) I came across it again within twenty-four hours. ‘Happiness writes white,’ he said. ‘When I am content, I have no inspiration. Ease causes the muse to fly.’ I didn’t want to believe it, that one needs to be tortured in order to … Continue reading Happiness Writes White
I love the part of being home that allows me to meet up with old friends, small reunions that taste so much sweeter after these long months of social confinement. The days of the open door and of ‘come on in’ have not quite returned, but the outdoor replacements – beaches and backyards, park benches … Continue reading Old Friends
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
