I want to write something. I’ve been promising a few people that I will write something. It’s not that I don’t want to put proverbial pen-to-paper, it’s just that although the desire is there – the words are not.
It is HUGELY frustrating and more than a little worrying. There are things afoot which could be the cause of this frustrating blankness but I am not entirely sure that this is, or I fervently hope it’s not, the root cause.
There’s been enough happening in the last few months that deserve a mention; Black belts, technology, Cancer, garage dojo, work, children growing up and the usual idiocy of me interacting with my peers.
Let’s face it, I am not actually that good enough to suffer from the fabled “Writers block”. Stupidity? Yes. Idiocy? Almost certainly and admitted to on a daily basis.
There was a new years resolution mulling around the head, although not verbalised, of putting at least one posting on here per week to drive the creative juices…. but the juices are dry :¬\
I shall try, I really really will try, however should you see me any time soon, please feel free to see whether a kick up the proverbials will help jumpstart this whole process off! It can’t hurt…
Put one foot in front of the other. Head down. Keep the mask on. Don’t look anyone in the eye. Don’t connect. Don’t think. Sit down. Do work. Keep busy. Adjust the mask. Smile… Sort of. Zone out. Put the headphones on. Lose yourself in music. Travel. Eat. Sleep… Sort of. Wake up. Slide out of bed.
Put one foot in front of the other….
It does get easier; you lose count of the steps, the mask fits a little easier each day and the “unthinking” becomes second nature. Unfortunately sometimes, a little rudely perhaps, but that unthought makes its unwelcome presence known again and…. and… and?
With the myriad of complications that have been taking up my time this year, it is still surprising that “people” are the biggest complication of the lot.
I made a decision earlier this year. A fairly radical decision tis true. The decision was based on a very personal time of reflection, not lightly made, and one that was built upon some quite intenseexperiences this year.
Am slightly surprised therefore that someone has taken offence.
As my Sensei has said on numerous occassions; “karate is a journey, not a race”. For some of us this journey takes a little longer than others, wrong turns have been made and our own personal SatNav needs a little tweaking to get us back on the road.
One person’s decision on their readiness for a new grade is not a reflection on another’s. It is up to each of us, when the question is asked, to answer if we are prepared internally for that next step. I’m not.
As I said in a previous post, which far better puts across my feelings, than this slightly rambling post;
“I need to stop chasing the next belt for the next few years and practise on becoming a black belt rather than just wearing one“
I made that decision for myself. I ask that question of my students. Each of us can only make that decision for ourselves individually and not for someone else… and that has to be respected if nothing else.
..as in “Ice” but with an “N”, not as in that place in Southern France which is pronounced similar to your sisters daughter.
Nice is a nice thing to be. It’s safe, dependable, and…. well… nice. Nice let’s you get involved in conversations that otherwise you may never get into in the first place. You can banter around slightly risqué topics and sometimes downright rude ones with members of the opposite sex, as quite frankly they trust you enough to not take it seriously at all, cos you’re a downright thoroughly nice chap.
I enjoy these chats actually (and which bloke wouldn’t?) as it tickles that naughty bone I have inside me…. although that could be worded better!
It tickles my nature, is probably a better way of wording it; the bantering around an unseen boundary, not quite knowing how far to take a certain line of thought, and using words in unique ways to put across an idea which can be both innocent and not so.
Sometimes it works deliciously, other times it’s a horrible train wreck. However with the right friends, of a similar impish nature, it’s fun and funny and a source of actual laughing out louds (I was going to put LOLZ, but then remembered I wasn’t 13!).
But the label of “nice” can grate a little. There’s always a part of you that wants others to feel slightly wary, that gives a person that small pause of thought, that exudes that small aura of danger. In the back of your mind you always know that whilst almost everybody likes to fuss and pet their domestic cat it’s the tigers that really get their hearts beating; that frisson of danger that catches the breath.
But….. I *am* a nice person, with a healthy dose of doubt, a self-deprecatingly wry knowledge of one’s own self worth and a morbid fear of seemingly too interested in something/someone as to seem a little distant. We all have our dark hearts under our idiot persona though, which will sometimes roar given the right (or wrong) circumstances
…although for some of us that’s done silently in our own personal space.
In the meantime I shall leave you with this little cartoon which is both funny and painfully close to home.
I vaguely remember a school lesson on ancient mythology where one of the mythological creatures was born with the knowledge of the manner and date of its own death. Now for the life of me, and despite some very weird google results, I can’t remember which creature this was.
Leave a comment in here if you know…. PLEASE!
What would you do if one day you were presented with the same knowledge? Not necessarily the manner, although this could be the case, but certainly the date… or as close as dammit. How would you live your life differently, if at all, if you were presented with your own personal “Use by” sticker…? Where you’d stick it is another post altogether! Continue reading
I’ve never been much of a Lothario, I know that’s hard to believe, or excited much intense reaction from women I am acquainted with, however the gasped “OH GOD!” that I elicited from my female colleague, in the middle of a crowded Costa Coffee, was deeply satisfying.
The fact that there was another female colleague to join in the fun was a bonus, as the “Oh my God!” ‘s were repeated and the scrutiny of naked forms took an intense turn. A disturbingly intense form. Realising that she was trying to explore the experience more was both surprising and… well… futile.
There was no more to give.
The ‘post experience’ detailing of underwear, various coloured rabbits and admittance of palpations I will gloss as minor detail.
I, of course, will be battered into a bloody mess for posting this little blogette, even though the guilty have remained nameless, and the fact that this entirely true account of what transpired has enough detail left out to make it sound *SO* much more than what it was… although what it was would, and I jest ye not, leave you with the desire to brillo-pad your eyeballs from the experience!
…and with that, frankly detail light but teasing post, I bid you goodnight ;¬)
“Ah“, said the screen, “I think you’re at the ‘Losing my religion’ phase…”
Which is a slightly strange thing to read, especially as I never had ‘religion’ in the first place. There is a heart dropping moment when you feel that the next bit of advise to come your way is about how God will magically come along and fix things for you if only you believe hard enough, visit his house on a regular basis, put pennies in his coffers, read his biography, and mumble to yourself with your hands clapped reverently in front of you.
Well that did flit through my mind briefly and was then rudely drowned out by a mandolin that started playing in my head and the image of some bloke dancing like he’s had all the bones removed from his body.
Support forums are a strange land to inhabit. Sitting in front the computer screen talking with someone you’ve never met about where to stick your personal “use by” tag and whether it really should be “best before” (split decision on this between being a physical or mental age requirement) or “display until” (we shan’t dwell on the conclusion as to when and where that sticker should be placed on your person). Continue reading
Sunday was very much a “Grand Ol’ Duke of York” day; When I was up, I was up. When I was down, I was down. Today I’m neither up nor down. I was going to title this post “Four seasons in one day, part II” for pretty much the same reasons as the original post. A rollercoaster of emotions varying from pain, joy, sadness and pride although not necessarily in that order.
The joy of getting my students to their next level, especially all the new brown belts, was tinged slightly with the realisation that I wasn’t going to be able to make my own progression.
Despite eminently wise words from Sensei, and other friends, about priorities; one can’t but feel that the ‘ongoing buggerage’ has won this little round just before I deal with it ultimately. As noted to my Sensei, “at least it gives me more time to practice my sanseru and sepai“. Although truth be told my heart really wasn’t in it.
I think, if nothing else, the two weeks “off” I’ll be having will give me time to charge up the ol’ batteries. I have already started to fill up my media player with an almost obscene amount of musical tracks and the kindle is starting to groan under the weight of books that have been loaded on there.
It’s also good to know that friends “have your back” and that if nothing else things will be ticking along whilst I’m not there. The hugs have been rather lovely too :¬)
I won’t be online though. Recently, and I mean very very recently, it’s almost been too hard to keep things in check; grading, as I said, was too much of a rollercoaster – and funnily enough I think Sensei was very much aware of that fact… as did my tough love guardian angel (as always)!
you can’t go on thinking nothing’s wrong who’s gonna drive you home tonight?
The answer, as always, is ultimately “me”, but you can’t help but wonder somtimes…
A new month is upon us and.. oh my tis gonna be a full adventure packed one this year! June, it has to be said, definitely had quite a few more downs than ups and really took a nose-dive as it approached its ultimate whimper. The blog, as ever, suffered from a lack of updates but sometimes life is very rude in its attention grabbing; and these really weren’t things I could ignore.
So I start the new month off looking for some ‘new adventures’… let’s leave it at that for the moment, and contemplating a month of pain(s)…. of various unique flavours.
The little buggerage that is cancer is having the local quackery peek, poke and “hmmmm” at it first thing with a view to finally giving it its marching orders; scalpel and eye-watering equipment at the ready!
Before one can even clench one’s but-tocks at that thought I shall be throwing myself, and number one sprog, into the competitive art of funny poses and grunting in a japanese accent. I would call it Karate, but that really is doing the fair martial art a disservice… at least on my part.
What’s more worrying is that I shall be pitting my questionable skills against a large number of other practitioners, with some very VERY dark coloured belts, all in the name of becoming world champeeen!
Get that over and done with and I will age an extra year almost immediately… literally! Nope, not in some abstract sense of the word, I will actually have aged another year. That is if I haven’t already aged prematurely when number one sprog officially enters his teenagedom the week before.
There’s a bit more to tap out into this post, but I can’t seem to compose the correct combinations of letters and punctuation marks into something vaguely coherent.
Ah well, cometh the end of July and I’ll be pretty much offline for a few weeks; no on-line presence, no work, no karate, no updates, no cancerous lumps bumps ‘n other stuff? no idea… we’ll cross that bridge when we get there though.
I, of course, will be battered into a bloody mess for posting this little blogette, even though the guilty have remained nameless, and the fact that this entirely true account of what transpired has enough detail left out to make it sound *SO* much more than what it was… although what it was would, and I jest ye not, leave you with the desire to brillo-pad your eyeballs from the experience!
Before one can even clench one’s but-tocks at that thought I shall be throwing myself, and number one sprog, into the competitive art of funny poses and grunting in a japanese accent. I would call it Karate, but that really is doing the fair martial art a disservice… at least on my part.
