Squandered

I've squandered my life by spending my entire life worrying about squandering my life and yet not feeling I've been able to do anything about it...

Consent and Power Relationships

I took my camera long with me to the Steampunk Weekend in Kirkcudbright.

I wasn't an official photographer, but I have a soft spot for Steampunk and knew there would be lots of people dressed up.

Almost immediately I bumped into someone I knew, dressed up to the hilt, with her friend who had similarly gone all out for it. A bit of a chat and then I suggested I could take their photo, with an idea of sending them a copy later.

But as we moved away from all the stalls towards a tree that created a less busy backdrop, a bloke with a camera was suddenly behind me and was clearly wanting to take advantage of the fact that I had isolated them so he could take some images too.

I gave him a bit of space and just tried to concentrate on taking my own images, but they were clearly torn between the 2 of us, with at least one of them looking at the other guy each time I clicked. Then I noticed a 3rd bloke had turned up.

Not wanting to be rude, but feeling a little deflated, I thanked my friend for her time, and as I headed off noticed even more camera-weilding blokes had arrived on the scene and I wondered how long it would be before she would be able to get back to exploring the event.

From then on, it felt like there were more middle-aged blokes with cameras than there were people dressed in Steampunk outfits.

They were everywhere. It seemed like anyone who had on an outfit was being swarmed upon.

It didn't feel right.

Of course if you dress up outlandishly you can expect to get some attention, but this felt positively intrusive.

And then I caught sight of myself in a mirror hanging on one of the outfit stalls and saw a middle-aged bloke with a big camera over his shoulder, wearing my face.

And, to be honest, I felt a bit sick.

It took me a while to understand my reaction, but eventually I realised it was all about power relationships.

For me, a photo shoot, however brief, is a collaboration between myself and the subject – it is a relationship of equals – a coming together to create something you both would like to see.

But it felt to me that most of these other photographers were feeling, or acting on, some level of entitlement. These people had dressed up so they were entitled to photograph them, whether the subjects were comfortable about it or not. And if they didn't like it, they shouldn't dress that way...

I just didn't want to be associated with these people.

To the outside world, there would be no perceptible difference between me and the other guys. We were all middle-aged blokes with cameras taking photos of people dressed up.

But the attitude behind the photography was everything.

I could only photograph my friend because I knew her already, I've photographed her before, and she was more than happy to play to the camera a bit.

But afterwards, I felt like I'd abandoned her to the jackals and didn't feel particularly proud of myself.

A guy I know who makes Steampunk accessories and had a stall there, said he'd heard that the previous year a photographer from one of the bigger camera clubs in the area had stumbled across the Steampunk Weekend last year, taken a photo of the guy I knew, and then had apparently won a camera club competition with the image.

It seems that word had got around and this year most of that camera club had descended on Kirkcudbright, out to get a competition winning photo, whatever the cost.

I didn't take any more photos, and left early.

The whole experience has just left me with a unpleasant taste in my mouth, and I'm going to be processing this for some time.

Are you normal, or other?

The idea of "normality" is just a loosely defined convention acting as a fragile meeting ground of vastly different ways of thinking and perceiving the world.

No one is actually "normal," instead we all overlap sections of it like a giant venn diagram.

The problem comes when, instead of understanding that no two people see the world in the same way, we are told that anyone who does not fully reside inside this construct is an "other".

Dividing the world into Us and Them has always been a way to control people. We all live in fear of being found out that there are aspects to us which would exclude us from the very narrow definition of what it is to be acceptable.

We are all "other".

On Being 55 (or probably any age, really...)

When I look at other people who are 55, I'm struck by just how much older than me they look.

Until I glance in the mirror...

A State of Mind

When I'm not drowning in deep depression,
or wrestling with high anxiety,
or bone-achingly weary with mental exhaustion,
or overwhelmed with existential angst, unable to stop staring into an eternal pit of of the darkest nihilism,
then I find I'm actually quite optimistic...

Payment

I love the eating, so much.

It's the awful physical and emotional feelings of having overdone it afterwards I really hate.

The world is not what you thought

One of those conversations where, in a moment of awareness, the world suddenly turns and you realise that every memory of who you are, what you did, and why you did it, is now going to have to be re-written...

...again.

Falling into my own trap

I’m visiting Facebook less and less – and to be honest, it’s because I can’t stand the bile and hatred pouring out the screen at me. I’m not talking about racists and homophobes and right-wing extremists – I’m talking about the violent rants against Trump, Brexit, the Conservative Government and the like.

When you scream your venom at these targets, who are you converting to your cause? Who suddenly says, “You know what? I think you’re right! There was me thinking it was OK to allow tenants to burn in preventable fires, for all foreigners to be called terrorists, and for the disabled to be punished for not being like me, but your vitriolic outburst has made me understand the error of my ways!”

I get it – I know you’re frustrated with the world – but spewing your righteous outrage all over Facebook doesn’t create a single convert. You’ve already unfriended everyone who disagrees with you. In fact, if you realise for a moment this is aimed at you, then you’ll probably unfriend me.

Stop telling me how shit the world is. I know it already. Your verbal diarrhoea isn’t calling me to action. It isn’t even calling you to action. Puking your frustration on your friends isn’t making the world a better place – it’s just adding to the horror.

It’s getting to the point where I’m opening my Facebook feed with trepidation.

It feels like where people used to be witty and wry, they are now just cynical and grumpy.

Is this who were are becoming? Bitter and twisted old men and women who just want to shout “bastards!” at the world.

I want to use social media to keep in touch with friends, to remind myself there are good people around, to be inspired to do better things and be a better person. But it seems anything from a third to a half of my feed is packed with the apoplectic spasms of the righteously outraged.

It’s making me ill.

Unfortunately I can’t now put this up on Facebook as this rant has just done the very thing I have accused others of doing...

Righteous Anger

Anger and hatred are always righteous - at least that's how it feels.

When we are angry, we feel it is our right to be angry, and the consequences of our anger is the fault of whoever made us angry.

Even though nothing was ever solved by hatred.

But it is extraordinarily difficult to challenge ourselves when we are consumed in anger. In the heat of the moment it feels so right, so true, so justified.

Not until we have stepped out of it are we able to see more clearly.

But politicians, media and extremists of every kind want to stir those feelings and keep them alive, so they can justify what they do next and go unchallenged.

Finding peace in our hearts, not afterwards, but while we are angry, while the hate consumes - challenging it while we are feeling it - that is what we ought to be taught from a young age, and need to be practicing as adults.

Christmas Tradition

When we are young, however Christmas Day is laid out, it's the right way to do it. It comes as something of a surprise when we discover other people do Christmas in a different way.

But it evolves and changes as we grow older - from discovering that Santa wasn't who we thought he was, to when we have kids of our own - as priorities, relationships and even technologies change, so do our traditions for Christmas day.

During a conversation with my wife this Christmas, I realised I was quite hazy on how things had changed. I couldn't quite remember all the differences from how it was when I was a kid to how we did things now. So I've decided to write down a typical Christmas Day for us as it is now, so I can have something to refer back to at a later date.

Christmas Stockings
When the kids were small, we told them that during the night Santa delivered all their stockings to our room, and when we got up we would then pass them on. This was to avoid the problem my parents had of putting the stockings in our rooms just after midnight, and us waking up at 3am, all excited and making a huge noise, resulting in them shouting at us to get back to bed - probably several times.

I can't remember at what point we stopped delivering them to each child's bedroom, but it seems like they would always congregate in the largest room and open their stockings together, so sooner or later we just brought them through to the one room, which for the past 11 years at least, has been Meg's.

While they open theirs, Maggie and I swap stockings and enjoy that bit of connected time together.

Breakfast
The traditional Christmas Breakfast in our house is croissants. I think it's something my Mum started doing when I was in my late teens, and the tradition was adopted by Maggie when we moved in together, but I can't be completely sure. All I know now is it would feel wrong if it was any other way.

The Christmas Tree
This is more fluid. Originally it was always a real tree, but then we went through a phase of having a ready-made one that could be reused every year and didn't leave pine needles everywhere. When that came to the end of its life we reverted to a real tree for a few years, but over the past couple of years we've gathered branches - usually from the beech trees overhanging the back of the garden - and Maggie has constructed a tree-like arrangement to hang the lights and decorations on.

Presents Under The Tree
There are households where it's a chaotic free-for-all and everyone grabs their own presents, but in our house it's always been a structured affair. Once the fire is lit and the chicken is in the oven, we all gather in the living room and I pass out the presents one by one. Each person opens their present, hugs the person who gave it to them and then we move on to the next one. When I was a kid it was my Mum who handed out the presents, but since I've been with Maggie it's always been me. There isn't any particular reason other than practicality as to why it's me. I've occasionally made suggestions someone else could do it, but no one ever volunteers.

The system for handing them out is to make sure they are grouped together by person - then I can see who has how many. I will make enquiries about which wrapped gift should be kept to last for each person. Then I hand out the presents in turn. On the first and last rounds, making sure everyone gets something, and juggling it around a bit in between for those who have more (usually Meg) than others. At its peak, when we had 5 children in the house and there was a tendency to have a greater number of cheaper presents rather than fewer more expensive ones, the whole process could take a couple of hours. This year (2016), for the first time we only had 4 of us for this part of the day, so it didn't last so long.

The advantage of this way of doing things is everyone gets to share in the excitement and pleasure of everyone else's gifts.

Christmas Dinner
I've never been bothered about turkey, so a nice free-range chicken has always been our meat of choice for Christmas Dinner. Maggie is vegetarian so has always made a nut roast too - usually with chestnuts in it for Christmas. Roast potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots, and honey (or maple syrup) coated parsnips accompany the chicken and nut roast. It's always done to perfection. Maggie's cooking skills are astounding, although she never seems to realise just how exceptional they are.

Christmas crackers are pulled and paper hats donned.

Dessert is usually a combination of Maggie's bramble ice cream (made from blackberries Meg and I picked back in the autumn), Maggie's most wonderful chocolate ice cream in the universe, cream, chocolate sauce, meringue nests, and a fruit sauce usually made from raspberries and hand-picked brambles.

And Then...
A wee doze in the afternoon is not unknown.

A bit of TV such as a Dr Who Christmas Special would be watched, but the television is not usually on that much on Christmas Day, while the evening might consist of a family game.

Christmas Day has been honed and refined over the years and it is lovely. For some families it can be a time of strife and arguments, while for others it can be a terrible time of loneliness. We are extraordinarily fortunate that it is almost always a wonderful day of gifts, food and a loving family. I couldn't ask for more.

UK Map Tilt Bias

After stumbling across an article about the BBC Weather map tilt, creating a Southern England bias, I used the Google Maps option of tilt and rotate to see what the UK would look like if there was a similar North of Scotland bias.

The results were surprising.

Imagine seeing this several times a day, every day on your screens.

Do you think those who live in the South of England might eventually get a wee bit irritated by it, or would they just take it in their stride and never complain?

Only The Now

The past is only accessible through the imagination.

The future is only accessible through the imagination.

Only The Now is accessible by anything other than the imagination - through the actual senses.

This moment, and only this moment, can we truly experience.

Although most of the time we miss it because we are too busy using our imagination.

Stop reading this and feel the air as it passes in, then out, of your body.

Happiness

We think that if we behave in the right way, then happiness will be bestowed upon us as a reward.

Instead, happiness is a skill that needs practice to be strengthened. If we sit around waiting for God, fate or some kind of karmic system to deliver it to us, we could be waiting a very long time.

And even if by some bizarre chance it is dropped in our laps, we won't be skilled and practiced enough to make the most of it.

Status and validation

People crave status and validation.

Provision

My fear lies not in what we have at the present, but what I may fail to provide in the future.

Little Chef

You're never pleasanty surprised at a Little Chef.