Christmas 7 Being between the generations

This morning Finn got immensely upset when M took a photo of us removing the extra table from the dining room... a bit later I tackled him about it, and it's about not having a girlfriend.  I pointed out that getting worried about how one looked wasn't the answer.  That I was totally gorgeous at his age but still hadn't had a boyfriend (well - I was roughly the age he is now when the great thing happened!)  I told him that girls were terribly lacking in confidence about their appearance and hung around in gangs to reassure each other about their hair and make-up and so on, and that fact that I wasn't like that when I was 15 was because I was too beautiful to care (no!) and a feminist who didn't believe in that stuff - I had nice long curly hair and didn't wear make up.    I told him research had discovered that kind children were more popular than unkind children and he said one of his NY Resolutions was to be "less hateful".  I told him the answer with girls was to take notice of them - admire their new hairstyle or something they are wearing and say nice, kind supportive things to them.  This will give him a positive reputation amongst the girls, and eventually one of them will want to go out with him - if they don't already.

He's going to spend the evening on the beach... but I hope he isn't expecting New Year's magic.  It's nice to think he's a little romantic at heart, but I hopeo he doesn't get too heartbroken.

Shortly after this, the focus of discussion shifted to Edward - a nice note from Stella revealed he was coughing up bloody phlegm... doesn't sound good.  She praised M for sensibly suggesting he did not start further hospital treatment.  But is he dying?  He's not eating again - when this happens (it has happened once or twice before) I always think of the Jews going "Musselmann" in the camps - starving themselves to death deliberately.  The only thing he ate over Christmas was a piece of my Christmas cake - a mild pride for me...  So we tip between the ageing and the burgeoining life of the children - it gives one such a sense of life and its continuity, and thinking about these things seems appropriate for a religious festival.

Today is New Year's Eve - which we will be celebrating at Adrian St Clare-B's... someone we know slightly, but are hoping to get to know better.  Cannot believe this is the first NYE party we have ever been invited to in Ramsgate - we had one a couple of years ago - but it didn't catch on!  I wish I felt a bit better - head cold, spot of neuralgia.  Seeing Clive & Naomi tomorrow for tea too - which will be nice.  Get him on board about 1 Chatham Place too. 

Christmas Day 6 - caring about the sick

Yesterday was Family Feast No 3 - we ate another fairly magnificent meal - drank a lot of fizzy, cremant d'Alsace and Cava... lots of red, didn't get around to the port - the walnuts, although we had some of the fab cheese Pollz brought.

The house looked very nice and it was a great day all round - people even noticed that I'd lost weight... success!  My father is currently staying with us - which is nice, it gives him a chance for a bit of a rest - and we spent a lot of the day in the sitting room reading.  The boys were barely evident - I think he's disappointed not to have them around - but I hope Finn will come and be sociable tomorrow.

I started the day with a bout of gardening - as the sun was shining and I have a small box of bulbs to plant.  I didn't get very far, had to deal with the fig tree, weeds and the saponaria in the front garden which is taking over.  I managed to plant 5 allium and an erythronium before I became overwhelmed by light-headedness and trembling (my new symptoms - of what? - !).  I then returned to my natural habitat: the sofa.

I am itching because I can't really write at the moment - I told myself I would be "on holiday" and available to my beloved family and friends - Mark has been very kind and helpful, Finn and Ned mostly absent - well, 1 out of 3 isn't too bad - and I talked to Pa a lot today.

I was thinking about S - I am quite shocked at how upset I feel about it, I had thought when I heard that he was having more radiotherapy in Jan/Feb that would have some sort of therapeutic effect, but it is actually done to reduce bone pain - it can't reverse the cancer.  Although a couple of his tumors had stopped growing - but presumably not shrinking.  I had hoped the treatment offered somehow but it's about prolonging life and making it more comfortable - not actually sort it out.  Apparently once the cancer has gone beyond the prostate it is incurable - so that's it - just a matter of time really.  Yes, death's just a matter of time for all of us, but rather less time probably in S's case.  I would like to do something for him, who knows what.   Am going to read one of Pa's books to see if I can think what to say to him.  But perhaps I am simply suffering from grandiosity - to think that I might be the one to push him in the right direction.  He is the cousin that I've been closest to - I always felt he was an ally in some way - especially since the "unpleasantness" a couple of years ago.  I don't think he ought to die yet - not for my sake - but for the people who are going to really lose him.  After all, I wasn't in touch with him for some years - and it was great to renew our friendship, now that we have done so, I will miss him more than I would have otherwise.   But this is in great part about the sorrow one feels as one's contemporaries begin to get scythed down.  For various reasons I have always believed that I will get to about 90 - preferably in good mental nick - if not, am happy to die sooner and not be a pain to my family.

I was talking to Angela Flowers the other day about the reptile brain - our cruel hunger for individual survival which makes us happy to see other members of the tribe drop by the wayside - she was very shocked by this idea.  I explained that we weren't really like this - we had been socialised and nurtured into being much more caring (some of us - although I can think of some exceptions).  I suspect a bit of a lack of nurture in my case makes me a bit less caring than perhaps Angela or even my father.  But time may (or may not) tell.  I don't think the instinct I had to "discard" in my mother's case was pure selfishness, but a genuine feeling that she had gone beyond the boundaries of an agreeable life, she was always telling one she wanted to die, one couldn't feel sorry when she did, because so much of her had already gone.  When I first heard that Edward was going to die, I was upset, I cried even - to M's surprise - but now I would be delighted if he died, for much the same reasons, seeing a good mind going dim is a sorry business.  Another factor about caring is clearly quite simply how much one loves someone.  That doesn't mean everyone who puts their spouse in a home is unloving - but every spouse who does this and doesn't go and see them every day... or as often as the circumstances allow might be less than 100% loving.

When my mother was ill I never felt very easy about performing les petits soins for her - such as massaging her, doing her hair, wiping her chops or whatever.  I think that was definitely uncaring of me, and perhaps a result of not having been cared for (this was the mother who had my hair cut because she was fed up with brushing it for me).  Or perhaps I really am rather harder and more selfish than I'd like to think. 

On the Third Day of Christmas...

I finally braced myself to look at our bank statement - and found we had gone over drawn... I had to rush off and put some cash in the bank account from Ned's savings.  Sigh.  That says it all really.  We have had a very modest Christmas in comparison with some people - no travel, no luxury foods (OK - a couple of packets of smoked salmon and a £6 tin of salmon caviar...

Today I finally iced our cake - and then dealt with the turkey carcass (turkey schmaltz, curry and stock).  We had a visitor - M's friend Chris from Norwich - Alex threatened a visit, so did Vanessa - but neither materialised.  I tried to prepare a bit towards the visit of my family on Saturday.  I had angst about their presents... but the financial situation curbed any impetuous thoughts  all my nephs and neices have way more disposable income than I do.

 I refreshed a few decorations, and got Mark to clean up the sitting room and urged the boys to expect to do housework tomorrow.

Overall, I thought about money - not much fun, I think I preferred the 2nd Day of Christmas (a nice walk to Pegwell Bay, a discussion of geology, some curlews and oyster catchers, a pair of ravens, then a friendly, warm party with Angela Flowers to talk to and so on..)

Jolly and hollow

Can one feel both at once?  I have been feeling terribly cheerful and bonhomous in the last few days - have really enjoyed the parties I've been to - and the beach assembly... lovely party tonight - Angela Flowers was there and we had a very good chat about stuff.  Mark has been behaving beautifully - and sociably.  And yet... I am feeling decidedly empty - there is anxiety, there is a "oh why bother?" feeling about my writing, about everything.  I can't face the thought of spending another year trying to get an agent, trying to struggle through treacle - trying to write the next Conscience book with no very encouraging outcomes.  I just wish that I could pick a nice agent who would like to hear from an author with a solid ability to write and a commmitment to doing it, and who can write a decent, readable, interesting book.  But how do I find this agent?  I thought I had her, then I discovered that her head had been turned by thrillers...

Of course it's too soon to think about giving up - but I have rather lost my bounce - which is a pity because for years I haven't risked having bounce (sure to be disappointed) but since last January I allowed myself to have a dose of it.  Now my fears have been vindicated and I am bloody disappointed.  I suppose I just have to write twice as hard and fast - maybe Naomi's hint that she would publish should be taken up as the best I can get in the short term.  I wish I knew what the best thing to do would be - I know overall the answer is "keep on" but it would be great to have a better direction to go in.  But perhaps I still have to be patient - another year?  Another two years? Before the kairos arrives. Oh damn, it's crazy.  The fact that a serious agent has taken it seriously still means something even if she didn't like the final result.  Shall I permit myself another re-write - at the risk of my sanity? - in January?  I hate the emotional impact of the re-writes, they make me think unwanted thoughts and make it hard for me to inter them as thoroughly as they ought to be. I am currently in happy/contented mode, I do not wish to make myself miserable again.  Perhaps I need to grit my teeth and pretend this is all happening somewhere else - nothing to do with me.  It worked as a technique for dealing with root canal treatment - why can't it work for emotional situations?

Christmas Day

Remarkably - it all went more smoothly than I had imagined.  I got up about 9.00 and did some fiddling with food - Mark came down - then we all opened our stockings and enjoyed some breakfast in bed.  We didn't have the cold ham and tongue - we are delaying them until Boxing Day and the 29th when my family come.
I prepared the veggies, put the turkey in the oven, gave the ham a brief baking to get the crust right - then we went down to the beach.

It was an unpromising day - a bit windy - light drizzle, with a touch of hail in the wind... so we wickedly drove.down to the beach - we rounded the corner of the former casino - aka the Royal Victoria Pavillion - and there were the usual suspects - perhaps fewer than in previous years, not everyone we expected to see - but it was great fun - and we spoke to a few people we didn't normally see - including a nice couple who are about to move to Wingham... also met two parents of friends of Finn's.  I realise that as we are the parents of the "bad kids" we need to hang out together.  Adam's mother was very pleased to meet me - and I saw a man I thought looked interesting and asked Jacqui who he was, she introduced me and he turned out to be Lily's father!  They are currently renting a flat in the Regency while waiting to buy a house - I told him to look out for the brothel there!

Strange really for a woman who spends much of her time crouched over her laptop, I still know quite a lot about what's going on.

Mark and I have been to two parties - and are going to another today.  I am beginning to feel "family" about some of my friends here - which is great - it's only taken about 3 years (most of them have only been here that long) - it is a weird and wonderful selection of people - although sometimes it's difficult to get a coherent/consistent conversation on any topic (perhaps that's because we're all drunk).  I felt the most extraordinary feeling of happiness at Sue & Kit's party on Sunday - something I haven't felt for ages... and that was after only two glasses of wine and a great deal of water.  We have been invited to a further two parties, a couple of "drinks" and are - unfortunately - hosting something ourselves.   I am determined to treat this period as a holiday though.

Christmas Day continued perfectly.  We came home, I put the spuds in the oven, the boys set the table and we all had drinks and opened our pressies.  M and I were drinking the Cremant d'Alsace we'd bought in France and Finn had advocaat (he took a gin and tonic to the beach) and Ned had "ale"... we all had lovely presents - really, not a duff one at all I think.  I was really pleased with my CDs from the boys - a Smiths compilation and a Rolling Stones Album... from 1975, so not the golden age, but enjoyable enough...
Just as I was entering the final stage of lunch Julian arrived and so we sat down and had a chat and another drink (some really nice Crianza I got from Sainsbury's).  He gave us a couple of bottles of wine, I gave him and Michelle a sun-catcher in the shape of a yacht... a number of sun-catchers have been given this year!

We then had lunch.  It was delicious, I think because we hadn't had a proper hot meal for some days (on Christas Eve we had blinis and smoked salmon and red caviar (yummmm).  We did not have Christmas pudding - instead we had the bakewell cheesecake that the boys adore - I was only going to have a tiny bit, but it was so delicious I had more (however, I didn't eat anything for the rest of the day except a couple of Belgian chocolates and two clementines, and I stopped drinking too).

After lunch some washing up was performed and M and I settled down to watch telly - the programme about Sister Wendy - during which I dozed off - we then watched a chunk of The Fellowship of the Ring and The Incredibles.  This prompted me to read some of the Silmarillion, which I have never read - I ploughed through it, but was rather underwhelmed - I have come across a lot of these creation ideas before, and adding a few "ere"s and "unto"s into the mix just add to the unreadability.  I may read a bit more, but it seemed so uninteresting:  God creates a lot of sub-deities to help him create the world, through singing it into being - one of them turns bad and puts a spanner in the good works of the others.... now read on.  I'm sure it becomes more complex and subtle later - but I am also discovering the truth about made up languages, that it is harder to engage with them than with real languages. Of course there are lots of echoes of Scandiwegian eeriness, Middle earth = Midgard etc. but some of the names are just unattrattive.

But enough of that.  Sometimes I think just 4 of us doing Christmas together isn't enough - but going out and seeing people adds to it.  I am very sorry we didn't get to church.  I was planning to go to Midnight Mass at St. Pugin's (sung latin!) but was too knackered - so went to bed, then couldn't sleep - so saw a tv Mass instead - but it's not the same.  However, as I am not living under the lash of the Magisterium, whether I go to church or not is my choice - and although I enjoy it for lots of reasons - mostly tradition and sentiment - it isn't absolutely essential.   However, that said, I feel a bit closer to God than usual at this time - so perhaps I don't need a church service to prompt it.  

Going out now to enjoy a bit of God's good creation with a walk to the Pegwell Beach.

Christmas 2

Christmastime is here by Golly!
Disapproval would be folly,
Deck the halls with hunks of holly,
Fill the cups and don't say "when".
Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,
----------- drag out the Dickens!
Even though the prospect sickens,
Brother here we go again!

I wouldn't say Tom Lehrer's sentiments echoed mine exactly - actually I would like to drag out the Dickens and the Dylan Thomas - what Christmas is complete without a rendition of A Child's Christmas in Wales.  Perhaps I will read some when Alexander comes over...  But there's never enough leisure time to do that sort of thing.

All cheery thoughts are exiled by the latest news of cousin S - things clearly looking bad.  He's in the miracle zone now I suppose - only a miracle can save him.  So come on God!  How about it? It would be a stunning Christmas present for them all! Please don't just say "The answer to your prayer is No".  You may well have a higher purpose, but it's getting hard to see it.  Now that they've stopped radiotherapy because it isn't helping - what more can medicine offer?  Bone cancer is widespread... it's a miracle or nothing now.  Look, this is a public(ish) space and I'm going to say a prayer here, even if the readership laugh at me, and think me a credulous fool - because wherever 2 or 3 of us are gathered together... you'll listen, even if some of the readers are devout atheists.  If you read this, and can bring yourself to, please pray this prayer - or at least the Amen!

Heavenly Father, I just ask you, in the name of your son Jesus who came and joined us in the flesh, to heal Strat's bone cancer, and heal his body completely of all cancer and to let him live a natural span of healthy life. Amen  (everybody say "Amen"!)

First feast, a row, a broken grate, police intervention etc.

The first Christmas feast is over - M's mother, brother Tom, sister in law Anne and niece Alice came to lunch - with Gina there were 9 of us...it was fun, but utterly exhausting.  The children and Mark did the tree and a certain amount of housework - I concentrated on the cooking - the meal was pretty good, but I did something rather extraordinary - I forgot to add the cream to the Gratin Dauphinoise - was I unconsciously trying to make a less fattening version?  Clearly I was not really concentrating enough.

I got very angry at about 12.50 - when Ned broke part of the cast iron grate and started howling - just as M was dressing painfully slowly and about to go and get everyone from the station.  I shouted "I am never going to do this again, this is the last TIME!"
Then I bellowed "For God's sake - it's a disaster Ned, but there's no point shouting about it - get the dining room grate and see if it fits..."   We then resumed normal service - I came down dressed (I had been up since 6.30 cooking in my dressing gown) Ned made a sensible grate substitute and Mark went to get them while I checked out the table settting (Finn and Gina did it)...

It was really nice having Gina here - she was helpful because she could do lots of little sensible things so I didn't have to.

The meal was great - croquettas de jamon were very popular - as was the dreaded garlic foccacia... the ham was OK, veg ok - the Christmas pudding recipe was fabulous - I am going to do it every year, really nice.  I am a bit dubious about the brandy butter ice cream - kids happy with brownies...

Once we had exchanged tokens of whatever it is we feel for each other (I got a carving knife and a nightdress... no doubt there's a message there) they went rapidly.  I then found myself assailed with thoughts of the LO, which was disturbing and annoying.  Perhaps it was just a case that the need to play Fantasy Husbands was particularly strong at Christmas...

I was awakend from my reverie by a call from the police who had come across Finn and his chums huddled in the multi-storey car park smoking (in Finn's case) and drinking (the others).  I find it slightly difficult to approve of the police devoting so much time to harassing teenagers - but perhaps they think they are "nipping  it in the bud" - whatever "it" is.  Anyway Finn and Oscar returned, very chastened in Finn's case - coolly pragmatic in Oscar's.  Finn said he was glad he'd lost his smoking stuff - since he would now give up smoking sooner... so there's the silver lining I suppose.

Very tired, hope to rest before going to Sue & Kit's party tommorrow... have agreed to have Alexander around for drinks on Christmas Eve - which should be pleasant - perhaps I should ask some other people - but then I'd have to cook.  I am really off cooking at the moment - and even drinking.  Wonderful!  But I am not going to even think about tracking my eating habits over the period...

I feel as if I am off duty - but in fact, there is still a hell of a lot to do.  Ice the other cake, make the pudding for Christmas day, get the turkey, ham and tongue sorted, stuffings etc.

Dream - with added "Jungian" interpretation

I dreamed about the LO last night - I haven't dreamed about him for a while.  There were many people at an outside event - we had struggled to get to it.  We were staying near the LO's old home in London - he was living there with his father, but we had been unable to see him.  Eventually we met his father who gave us permission to go to their house but when we (my animus and me?) got into the house and found it empty.   The LO was in a sort of military group - who were guarding the event.   I was having dinner with some older women but feeling restless - I got up in the middle of the meal and went out.  I went and sat on the grass - LO's sister was there - she was lamenting the fact that he had broken up with his wife - I asked her why - it was over his refusal to listen to a new CD she had bought which he hadn't had time to listen to.  His sister was sure they'd get back together.  LO's band of people went to sit on a roof to watch the event, I couldn't see him.  He had made no attempt to see or make contact with me.  His son told me he was very depressed and barely spoke to anyone.  He added a few choice things about the LO's wife - but both he and his aunt thought they would get back together.  

I heard that the military duties would end soon and that he would come and speak to me - so I went back to my old ladies who were just finishing dessert.  I chose a place to sit where I would either be next to him or opposite him, depending on where he chose to sit.

I am taking the view that the LO in the dream isn't him, but an Animus figure - I wanted to see him (get in touch with that side of myself) his father - who is actually dead - is some sort of psychopomp figure... leading me to getting in touch with him.  The house is their house, not my house - and it's empty - it has been modernised since I knew it, but we only really see the kitchen... which is much improved.  The great grassy expanses of back gardens around the nearby houses are odd... not sure what they are.  My animus is in a military group  - under orders, or military discipline - he can't or won't communicate with me.  He is broken hearted and depressed over a matter of taste (the CD) - LO's sister is an enthusiastic nice warm woman - so she would obviously say he and his wife would get back together - his son is more intelligent and critical - so his view point is more nuanced...  I go back to the dinner table (my Christmas duties) and await his appearance, knowing that when he comes he will be near me, although I am still unsure that we will be "fully integrated".

If you analyse it this way it makes a lot of sense,.  I (the Animus - the male side of myself) am under military discipline - getting Christmas ready, so I cannot be in touch with the other side of myself because that would result in a more authentic response to life - i.e. doing what I want, which is to get on with the novels.  The old ladies are like my book group having their Christmas feast... which is where my Christmas labours started - although in the dream it's summertime - suggesting that is the season I want to be in - one of growth, fruition, harvest (the grass needs to be cut for hay), rather than living through the restrictions of winter.

I am rather glad of Jungian analysis here  - if I did not know of it, I would have assumed that it was just an anxiety dream about the LO not being interested in me, even if he'd split with his wife.

As for the general marriage situation, I had a good chat with A about it - her insights are often very useful - and now that her marriage is crumbling, she sees the attractions of one's nice home and family very strongly.  I admit, I do not really wish to go and live in a bed-sit on income support... I shall continue to live in Samuelgard, attending the warriors like a good little Valkyrie, until the warriors depart for adult life and I can re-assess the situation.
, 

Andrew Mitchell again!

Now it's called Plebgate - I liked it better when it was called Gategate...

Nearly Christmas...

Today is Mark's birthday - we have still not been able to shift it to a more relaxing time of year - July maybe, or August.  So we are having the usual celebrations - this year instead of celebrating with his family on the day we are celebrating it twice... first today - then again on Saturday when four of them will be here.  He was in adn exceptionally grumpy mood this morning...this didn't help.

I am doing that "woman at Christmas" thing that they have begun to talk about in the meejah.  In my case this consists of being as patient as I can be - and just getting on with stuff.

Today's achievements:

Took delivery of Christmas tree (Nordmann this year - he offered us one at the same price), cooked scones, birthday cake, soaking a ham, starting to deal with spiced beef, making steak and kidney pudding, went to 2 supermarkets, tidied up the booze cupboard and decided we actually could get by on what we had between now and Boxing Day (when Sainsbury's is open - if there's an emergency).  Tidied up sitting room, dealt with card s, wrapped some more presents - realised we were nearly out of wrapping paper - tried to tidy up kitchen, tried to make more fudge (assembled ingredients, but got no futher).  Organised small but perfectly formed birthday tea for M, N, F and Gina - it is not surprising that the cake went wonky - shoved it in the oven without  due care and attention... Also needed to spend time persuading Mark to cheer up - it isn't the end of the world (that's tomorrow) that he's now as old as me.  He did cheer up and enjoyed opening his vast selection of pressies - and eating the coconut cake (only I seemed to notice it wasn't as good as usual - don't think the organic coconut I bought in error tastes as good as the usual own brand stuff!).

We have a hell of a lot to do tomorrow - and I have to go and mind Suzy's shop - which is fine, it will give me a chance to sit quietly and read, or perhaps it will be busy?  She is having late opening - followed by a party at hers... but we also have to:

get everything out of the dining room and clean it,
clean and tidy sitting room, rearrange furniture to accommodate tree
Clean the hall, stairs, etc.
Stuff ivy in all unattractive bits of the house
Erect and decorate the Christmas tree
Get boys to make biscuits and more fudge for presents.
Wrap more presents,
Cook brownies, red cabbage and prepare croquetas...
Ice two Christmas cakes (have to do that tommorrow because one is for Tom & Anne)

Everything seems to take so long.  Clare noticed how much walking I had to do in the kitchen - I suppose dashing the 22 ft between the washing machine and the drying rack and the sink and the recyling bins is keeping me from utter slothfulness.   This is the first time I've relaxed for a while - and I go back to my laptop and discover another agent has rejected my novel - it only took her 3 days.  Good, she urged me to continue looking for an agent.  I don't really think I'll have much time until January. Tomorrow Mark is going to Canterbury to get some stones - he has another job, which is great, and he can do it at once - so we'll only have to make the next payment stretch until mid-Feb, and I can explain this to the Nationwide.  Arrrrggggh.

Nostalgia - 21st December?

I feel nostalgic - don't know why - but the last few days I have felt endless mild yearnings - I want the Moon! What is the nature of these things?  Nothing has changed objectively - I still want to change my life - I feel it is slowly changing, creaking open... but maybe that's an illusion.  I thought everything changed at the beginning of this year, but now it seems to have gone retrograde - perhaps that's why I'm aching for the dear dead days beyond recall - or maybe it's my sedately raging hormones... Or maybe it's because the world is going to end on Friday.  

Just heard a programme about the Mayan prophecy - I know rationally it's a pile of pooh - but there was one person who was speaking so earnestly and apparently sincerely about it, that I almost began to believe in it.  I suppose I am guilty of over-empathising sometimes.  I think that's why I often close myself off from things, seal myself away from the seething emotional lives around me.  I was struck by the astronomer who pointed out that there were no significant planetary conjunctions... I had also been wondering what the doomsters had meant by that - there's a difficult Pluto-Uranus angle - but that's been going on for months - no doubt blighting my 5th house (true love and creativity!) and quite a few others beside no doubt.  Actually, there's nothing blighted about my creativity.  I'm exploding with ideas at the moment, for new stuff, and for improvements to old stuff - which is great, what I need is someone to pay me for it.  True love?  Nah, not allowed to have that when you're married - oh, hang on, I thought that was the point of getting married.  I suppose one can't get everything right in one's life, but right now it seems I have got quite a few things wrong - this is something which has only just occurred to me.  Seen objectively my life could appear fairly disastrous - but I don't feel it is for some reason.  Probably because I don't judge myself by material standards.  I'm happyish I suppose because of the levels of creativity - because I have very nice friends, a husband who means well, decent kids (on the whole!) and we can still just about afford central heating.  Yet it seems that beneath the surface complacency there is still this emotional itch...sometimes I think "perhaps, when we're 64" but really I feel it is safest to expect nothing, and then one can't possibly be disappointed.

He who wishes to save his life, will lose it...

I've always found this Biblical verse, Luke 9.24, puzzling, or rather, a slightly extreme one.  I understood it to mean that only by giving up things for God would you get a really good life - but it always sounded as if it was at the heroic end of the Christian spectrum.   However, over the years I've realised that like a great deal in Christianity it's close to other teachings such as Buddhism - about abnegation or self-denial or something like that.  It isn't necessarily heroic, there have been times when I abandoned certain hopes or objectives to concentrate on something else and have been given the things I gave up.  In particular there have been 2 occasions when I've felt able to give up things - once when Ned got a head injury and was bleeding from his ears, which I took to be a sign that he was close to death - he was very cold and pale, seemed to be losing consciousness and I really thought he was dying, and I was able to thank God for the 8 years of his life and say what a blessing they had been and to give him up if that was God's will.. Ned always knew as a child something was seriously wrong with him then - he said later he could see I was frightened and it was the only time he'd seen me frightened.

The other time I gave up something was when I thought I was dying - I was drifting into unconsciousness through blood loss and I accepted the possibility of death, but while praying I said "I don't mind dying for myself, but I don't think it's very fair on Mark and the boys."

As you can see, neither Ned nor I is dead, but both these rather extreme occasions reaffirmed my belief that it is only when you abandon a cause, or a hope, that it has any chance of being fulfilled.  Not abandon it exactly, but cease to believe its fulfilment is the only really important thing. I wish I could abandon my anxiety that money was a really important thing - perhaps it would then flow freely into my life - but I feel that adopting this do ut des policy may be a bit cynical, and would not be honoured if done for the wrong reasons.  It is of course, at the basis of the idea of sacrifice - "I give you this lamb and you give me innumerable benefits" - but the Luke verse is more subtle because Jesus is not saying "give up stuff so you'll get back" he's saying if you focus on yourself, you will get lost in yourself - if you are willing to lose your life for others you will save yourself.  Losing your life for others sounds a bit drastic - but that probably isn't quite what is meant - just that one has to be able to accept the vicissitudes of life without getting hung up on "what will this do to ME?"

And the next verse, Luke 9.25 is the famous one "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world but lose his soul?" - which suggests not that you would lose your actual soul - but the spiritual part of yourself that connects you to God would be blighted, hidden, no longer useful to you - you would lose your connection with God - and this is the outcome of an obsession with anything really - one's health, one's children, one's life, money, one's worldly success... But it doesn't say that inevitably if you gain the whole world you will lose your soul - it is possible to have a great deal and still be part of the Kingdom of God.   This no doubt connects with the idea of "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and the rest will be added unto you..." although this seems to refer to basics such as food and drink and clothes - rather than luxuries.

My problem at present is how to lose my obsession with getting my first novel published, and my anxiety about money - I feel they are getting in the way of other things.  I feel sure my life would be better in every way if those two issues could be resolved.  But perhaps it wouldn't.  Perhaps I need to lose these things somehow first.   

Still Standing...

Just about, I haven't written for a week or so, because I've had set-backs and busy-ness and now I'm feeling rather low.    There could be an objective reason - but I suspect it's because I've just done another re-write of TRF and after the engagement with the story and the characters, I feel a bit flat.  Also,. the cat's disappeared, we haven't seen him for 3 days and I'm feeling rather sad about that.   This is not up there in the ranks of blogs about famous people, and strident opinions on political matters, but it's where I am now.  I feel like crying, but - apart from the loss of the cat, and nostalgia, can't really see any good reason for it.