Category Archives: personal

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 4

Weekly update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. I’ve struggled for inspiration again this week – well the hot weather has helped nothing – but here’s this week’s selection (one a day).

Monday 22 July
Bright green minibeast,
door lintel is its park bench:
small oak bush cricket.

Tuesday 23 July
Little brown fluttery-by
busily seeking nectar
in overgrown hedge.

Wednesday 24 July
Clear azure blue sky,
zip-wired swifts circling high
pick off flying ants.

Thursday 25 July
Wispy mare’s tail
cirrus clouds so high above.
Swifts circling below.

Friday 26 July
Harley or Honda?
Who cares the make when all rev
so noisily.

Saturday 27 July
Sleeping all day long:
pussy cat where have you been?
Night down the rat mines.

Sunday 28 July
Rain, glorious rain,
making gardens green again.
Daybreak brings wet cats.

And the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33
4 26

More next week.

On Protest

A few days ago one of our favourite Zen masters, Brad Warner, wrote a blog post under the title What You Don’t Speak Out Against You Co-sign? He was responding to a comment that “what you don’t speak out against you co-sign” and taking him to task for not openly campaigning against Donald Trump and all that he stands for. Needless to say Brad disagreed, as I do too.

Let’s start off being clear. “What you don’t speak out against you co-sign” means “If you don’t speak out against something then you are supporting, aiding, facilitating, even encouraging it”.

As Brad says, this is a very common way of thinking. It goes along with the “if good men do nothing …” trope. But it isn’t true and it is (designed to be) divisive and create factions. It is nothing short of moral blackmail.

Many people see their target as some variant of evil. So if you don’t campaign, demonstrate or protest against Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Brexit, pervasive CCTV, fossil fuels, or whatever, then you condone them and you are the work of the Devil. Not so.

In Brad’s words:

If someone characterizes you as evil, do you want to be friends with them? Do you want to support the things they support? Do you want to listen to their reasons for calling you evil? Or are you more likely to say, “Well screw you!” and deliberately support whatever it is they’re against?
… …
The stance that [such people] are taking will only drive more people to support the [cause] they hate.

So their efforts become a self-denying ordinance.

Also implicit in this is (a) that there is one right and one wrong answer, and (b) that there is only one way to protest. Some must choose to refrain from joining in with the noise everyone else is making. Protesting noisily is seldom effective. In general, protests and petitions work only to reinforce the determination to do whatever is being protested against. They may convince those who are already of like mind to join your bandwagon, but to many, like me, they are annoying and pointless – even if I agree with the sentiments.

Don’t get me wrong. I object just as strongly to the same things (see list above) as anyone else. But I choose not be be mouthy about it or jump on bandwagons. Like Brad I am not skilled in political rhetoric, and whatever I might wish to say has already been said a thousand times over by those more skilled (and likely more knowledgeable) than me. So I would largely be wasting my breath.

Everything goes through cycles and fashions; always has, always will. Ultimately “we are where we are” and “what will happen will happen” – although by “right action” we can indeed hope to affect the outcomes. But what is “right action” for you may not be so for me.

Essentially it doesn’t matter what I say. Brexit will happen or it won’t happen. North Korea will blow us all sky high, or it won’t. Rinse and repeat, with your cause du jour.

That’s not to say that we shouldn’t speak out about things we fundamentally disagree with, but there won’t be thousands not speaking out because I keep quiet: there is already plenty of discussion and debate. Your mileage may vary.

Like Brad, I believe there is a better way, at least for me. First of all staying silent (or maybe just quieter) helps protect my sanity – something which is precarious enough for most of us at the best of times. The Dalai Lama always talks about compassion, and self-care is only having compassion for oneself. Without self-compassion and self-care you are not able, and not there, to show compassion for others.

Keeping silent has other benefits too. It provides quiet space where other topics, perhaps of more immediate personal importance or urgency, can be discussed. And, when appropriate, it also allows controversialists and facilitators (as I like to think I am) help others see the wood for the trees and take an appropriately thoughtful and nuanced approach, rather than jumping on some blinkered, raucous bandwagon.

There’s more than one way to stop the crocodile running off with the sausages.

For another perspective on this see Silent Protests Are Still Protests.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 3

Weekly update on my 100 Days of Haiku challenge. Not such a good week, this wek, as I’ve struggled much more for inspiration, but here’s this week’s selection (one a day).

Monday 15 July
Small roach, I feared!
Closer look in shower shows
just a tiny moth.

Tuesday 16 July
Grey shape, movement in
silver birch. Camouflaged
squirrel eating shoots.

Wednesday 17 July
Red golden glows the
moon eclipse through lacy trees.
Such speechless beauty.

Thursday 18 July
A lady’s pretty
cunt glimpsed beneath a skirt.
Such rare delight.

Friday 19 July
Bold Samuel Pepys
much drinking and wenching did;
but bad boy done good.

Saturday 20 July
Soft rain, heavy rain:
wring out the returning cats
many times today.

Sunday 21 July
Flashing red and white:
a Red Admiral supping
Buddleia’s nectar.

And the tally of progress by week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28
3 33

More next week.

100 Days of Haiku, Episode 2

As promised, a weekly update on my progress through my 100 Days of Haiku challenge.

My target is to write at least one haiku each day. In week one I churned out 16, although not all were good. This week, week two, I’ve written 28 – again not all good – and I have a few ideas on the stocks. Here is a selection, one a day, from this week.

Monday 8 July
Always branded bad:
erotic, pornography,
essential for life.

Tuesday 9 July
Sunny windowsill;
solar-charging cat dozing.
Night out spent mousing.

Wednesday 10 July
Dryad of wormwood,
halucinogenical.
Fay green absinthe.

Thursday 11 July
Awakening to
pigeon’s morning serenade.
Warm snugly lover.

Friday 12 July
Foot pain go away
though treatment more painful.
Attractive masseuse.

Saturday 13 July
Cool evening breeze
wafts away humid summer
sunshine and warmth.

Sunday 14 July
Catnip stuffed fish.
Hallucinogen causes
spaced out pussy.

So let’s keep a tally of how many we write each week:

Week Haiku
1 16
2 28

We’ll have another instalment next week.

Ten Things, July

This year our Ten Things series is focusing on each month in turn. The Ten Things may include facts about the month, momentous events that happened, personal things, and any other idiocy I feel like – just because I can. So here are …

Ten Things about July

  1. Start of UK school holidays
  2. The month was renamed by Roman Senate in honour of Julius Caesar
  3. Annual Swan Upping to count the Queen’s swans on the River Thames
  4. St Swithin’s Day
  5. Whitstable Oyster Festival
  6. Fence Month: the closed season for deer in England
  7. In 1799 a French soldier discovers Rosetta Stone
  8. Bikini first showcased in Paris in 1946 (right)
  9. First Moon walk in 1969
  10. Birth of Dr John Dee, Elizabethan scientist and magician

100 Days of Haiku

As I have nothing else to do (joke!), and wanting to add something to my woeful practice of mindfulness, I have set myself a little challenge:

To write at least one haiku a day for 100 consecutive days.

What are haiku? Haiku is a Japanese verse in three lines with 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively. Traditionally haiku are mood poems and don’t use any metaphors or similes; however beginners, like me, are usually start with just the restriction of the number of lines and syllables. There are many online collections of haiku, for example here, including those of the Japanese master Matsuo Basho.

I started this challenge last Monday, so I’m now seven days in and it is time to record the first results. In total I have written 16 haiku in the seven days – some good, many not so good. Here is one from each day showing a variety of ideas and subjects.

Monday 1 July
Cicadas singing
Long through sultry summer nights.
Thunder before dawn.

Tuesday 2 July
Sunshine streaming in
windows open wide for air.
Why such depression?

Wednesday 3 July
Hickory dickory dog,
rough enough through cough, lough and chough.
Cork works porky quark.

Thursday 4 July
Useful man, Paddy:
Build, fix, repair, recycle.
Moonshine of the bog.

Friday 5 July
Wispy cirrus cloud
Against Dutchman trouser blue.
Metal bird glides by.

Saturday 6 July
Sticky, sticky day
Energy drained away.
Starry, starry night.

Sunday 7 July
Seven round a table;
Friends’ dinner party makes mirth.
Mountainous paella.

Well no-one said that haiku had to make sense – at least not modern haiku; the traditional style seems more rigid!

I’m not going to post an offering every day, as some proponents of 100 day challenges do, but I shall attempt to post at least weekly updates. And I’m logging all the output, whether posted here or not, so who knows what might happen at the end.

Leisure

Another of the short poems we read at my mother’s funeral was this. Again it captures my mother’s quiet delight in the natural world.

Leisure
By WH Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

WH Davies (1871-1940) spent a significant part of his life as a tramp in both the UK and USA, but became one of the most popular poets of his time.

Nice Mice

For no obvious reason I was recalling, the other evening, one of the short poems we read at my mother’s funeral back in June 2015.

As some here will know she was a great nature lover, and unbeknown to anyone some while before she died she had been feeding a small mouse which lived under the bath in the en suite of her care home room. Everyone at the care home loved my mother; however Rosie, the care home’s lovely manager, when she found out about the mouse went fairly ballistic – quite understandably. So when we read this poem at the funeral, Rosie absolutely cracked up.

Here’s the poem …

Mice
By Rose Fyleman

I think mice are rather nice;
Their tails are long, their faces small;
They haven’t any chins at all.
Their ears are pink, their teeth are white,
They run about the house at night;
They nibble things they shouldn’t touch,
and no one seems to like them much,
but I think mice are nice!

Rose Fyleman (1877-1957) is most famous for her poem There are Fairies at the Bottom of Our Garden.

Nudity (again)

I came across an interesting post on the Naked Wanderings blog. It is overtly about the influences nudism has on our (intimate) relationships, but I found it interesting because it also throws some light on why many people find nudity (and thus nudism/naturism) so scary and taboo. Here’s the cut down version:

[N]udism has a positive influence on both our physical and mental health.
. . .
But how does nudism effect relationships?
. . .
[Apparently] the divorce rate among nudist couples is a lot lower than among textiles . . . are nudist couples sharing different values than textiles which are more likely to keep them together?
. . .
The level of trust in our relationship is high enough that we wouldn’t be threatened knowing that our partner was spending time naked among other nudies.
. . .
[But] in many relationships, trust is often linked with an inevitable idea of not letting the fox into the hen house . . . We want our partner to be sexy as hell when we go out together but we wonder why they have to look so fancy when they will spend a night with friends. We know that a couple of her well placed hip movements in that dress can make a guy go crazy or that with his three day beard in combination with that certain shirt he’ll have girls hanging on his lips. Imagine what it would be like if everyone was naked.
. . .
If we allow our partner to be seen naked and to see others in their purest form, have we conquered jealousy? [Maybe.] It’s all about the intention.
. . .
For us, it seems unimaginable not to see our partner nude at least a couple of times a day, but we would probably be surprised if we knew for how many people it has been weeks, months, sometimes even years since they last saw their partner’s naked body.
. . .
According to [one] poll . . . 40% of the interviewees preferred to only have sex when the lights are out . . . because then you avoid getting caught up in thoughts about your physical appearance . . . If you have any intention to spend at least some part of your life with this person, you still feel that you have to hide your own body?
. . .
[T]here is no hiding, we see each other naked so often that . . . we became aware of our bodies and we accept how we and our partner looks . . . nudity still gets us excited, but it depends on the situation. 
. . .
We get the question about how to convince your partner into nudism . . . Propose that they give it a try. Only once, in a secure and not very crowded place.
. . .
[W]e are completely okay with others who prefer to wear clothes. We are not saying that our lifestyle is the only right one.

If even half of this is true, then I find it a very sad reflection on the state of our minds, and the prudish control which has been exerted on us for generations – this is nothing new. A lot of it can certainly be laid at the door of Western religions and the patriarchy; although there are doubtless other influences too.

Isn’t it time we accepted that we’re basically all the same. We all know what’s under your t-shirt and jeans; my t-shirt and jeans.

So where is the problem? Yes, like so many things the problem really is only in your mind, if you allow it to be.

Ten Things, June

This year our Ten Things series is focusing on each month in turn. The Ten Things may include facts about the month, momentous events that happened, personal things, and any other idiocy I feel like – just because I can. So here are …

Ten Things about June

  1. June marks the start of meteorological Summer
  2. Dedicated to Juno, Roman goddess of marriage
  3. Magna Carta signed on 15 June 1215
  4. Summer Solstice …
  5. … which is the longest day
  6. Midsummer’s Day is on the Feast of St John Baptist, and not at the Solstice
  7. Well dressing, which is still practised in Derbyshire
  8. Trooping the Colour (above) is part of the Queen’s Official Birthday celebrations
  9. Ratcatchers Day, Hamelin, Germany
  10. Birthstone: Pearl