Over the past week, I’ve spent a large portion of my time standing behind a till, working for the small corner-store, Spar- and it’s been an amazing experience. I don’t mean that in a, ‘Oh shit, my boss might be reading’ sense- the shop has a fantastically friendly working atmosphere, to the point that I genuinely enjoy going in and spending my time there. There are certain things a person picks up by standing behind a till for six hours at a time, though, and I want to share them with you.
1. People seem to think shop-keeps are inanimate- and maybe we are. I’ve been noticing this as the week goes on. People tend to look at you, and treat you, as if you’re not really there, as if you’re just an extension of the shop- and maybe, while you’re in work, that’s what you become. You are, in essence, just a barrier put in by the shop to stand between the customer and the thing they want. In being this, people forget you are a human being- and this leads on to,
2. People think you’re deaf. Something about working behind a till seems to make people think that you are incapable of hearing them. They’re very happy to talk away about the most deep and intimate things to their friends while you’re standing right in front of them- toilet routines, sexual encounters, and, very frighteningly-
3. Domestic abuse is a shockingly pervasive phenomenon, and not just for women. I was standing, as ever, behind my till, and, (being the nosey human being that I am), was listening to a conversation two of the customers were having. (Well, when I say nosey, they weren’t really making any effort to conceal what they were saying). It was between a man and a woman, and they were discussing how a male friend of theirs had been beaten by his girlfriend, and the things she had been doing, and how he had tried to defend her. Conversations like this seem to happen a lot- and it’s terrifying. This kind of abuse seems to be rampant- and that’s unacceptable. Patrick Stewart’s video about domestic abuse, (while focusing on the more-reported phenomenon of abuse of women), has been making the rounds recently, so I’m including it here- give it a watch.
4. On a lighter note, it’s amazing how many people win the lottery, and scratch cards. You would be surprised- apparently, they’re not all nonsense!
5. People are all very similar. When you come in contact with hundreds of people a day, you start to see the similarities between them all. Of course, there are wild differences in personality, in attitude, and all of that- but, really, you notice, (or you do if you talk to them like I do), that everyone’s just trying to be happy, and trying to get by. Which is a nice thing, really. I’ve known this for a while, and I’ve probably talked about it before, but when you’re confronted with a steady stream of people, it becomes more and more apparent. We’re all wonderfully, wonderfully alive out here.
That’s me for this week! I’m going to get back to the new task that’s absorbing all of my attention; knitting. I am honestly the coolest person I know.
As ever, if you have any cool stories, send them to me at jol20@aber.ac.uk, Hope you’ve had an awesome weekend, I’m a cool person, Jordan.
So, it’s been a while. Two, three weeks, maybe? Sorry about that, revision and all that jazz, priorities are key! Or they’re supposed to be. I wish someone would explain this to the vast amount of money I’ve spent this year on chocolate instead of real food. Oh well! It’s time I got back into the swing of this whole ‘blogging’ endeavour, and so I would like to present- well, me.
It’s been a really great few weeks, in spite of the heavy work-load. For the first time in my life, I managed to get more revision done than I intended, being as ready as I could be for the exam two days before it- that’s a personal best for me. (It felt even better, knowing that my flatmate was only starting just a day or two before hand). The exam itself was horrifying- some of the worst questions I’ve ever seen- but I’m quite proud of my revision effort, and of not falling into the same trap of stress as I did this time last year.
I think one of the things that saved me from this, alongside my new-found job, a 9am wake-up routine, and ridiculous amounts of energy drink, has been the fantastic insight of the now-deceased Anglo-American philosopher and Buddhist, Alan Watts. He’s one of those people I wish I’d heard of before now. A late night stumble on StumpleUpon, (which is an insanely wonderful app, aside from its habit of bringing up porn at incredibly inappropriate moments), rolled me on to the attached video, which led to hours of trailing around and listening to all I could. This man is a powerhouse of insight, and, honestly, I encourage you all to give him a listen.
I think one of his lectures may have saved my degree, and my sanity. It’s a simple idea, really- he says that, in order to have more control and power in our lives, we simply have to give up trying to control everything. He explains that we can’t control all of the things we want, such as how people will treat us, or who we will be friends with, or the myriad of other things that humans desperately try to control- and that the harder we grip these things, the more of our time and energy we give to them in vain. By surrendering, by saying, ‘I can’t control this, and so I trust it to do what it should’, we give ourselves immense power. He uses an apt metaphor- the president cannot control the actions of every single member of his staff; he has to trust their wisdom and their sense of what is right. If he doesn’t, he’ll stay awake all night worrying- and still won’t be able to do anything. Mr Watts pushes that we should just learn to trust ourselves, and trust life to do what it should.
I’ve been pushing to do this since I first stumbled on his lecture. Any time I notice myself getting annoyed or upset or, most often in the last week, stressed out of my mind, I simply take a step back and say, ‘I can’t control the outcome of this exam, or this person, or any of this stuff I’m grasping at. I’m going to step back, do the best to fulfil any obligations or needs on my side, and trust that life will do what needs to be done.’ It may seem crazy- but my Gods do I feel empowered. Not only empowered, but liberated, and, just happy. In that really nice, always there, always sitting about way, rather than in the sporadic outbursts of happiness that I’m prone too.
I encourage you all to give him a view. There’s a few good pieces up on Youtube; I’ve included one that’s a couple of minutes long, but there are others- I’ve included a link to a particularly excellent guided meditation, for any who feel inclined in that way!
There are so many moments of life that I miss. So many people who have come and gone, that have left such an influence, that I still feel them wobbling around in there, making their mark. It’s been floating through my head a lot over this past week, in a good way- I’ve been quite content to bathe in a stream of nostalgia. Of course, it bites a little- there’s always that tinge of regret, or that hint of sadness at loss. Happiness wins out over it though. I had so many ideas of what to write about this week; political tousles, philosophical ramblings, my enjoyment of food and the sunshine, climbing up a hill and standing naked with a close friend, declaring ourselves kings of Aberystwyth- but I want to take this week, just to thank some of the people that have passed out of my life, that have left such a lasting effect. (Public declarations are always wonderfully fun.)
To my grandfather; I don’t know how long it’s been since you passed on. A very long time- I think I was doing my GCSE’s. Even after such a passage of time, I still find you in the back of my mind. When I’m down, concerned, confused, or any of the other ridiculous emotions I go through on a daily basis, I often find myself asking, ‘What would you have done? How would you react in this situation?’ While this wondering is hampered by a dulling of the memory, by the passage of time making it harder to call you up in my mind, it’s still there- I still feel the general presence of you in so many of the parts of ‘my’ personality. You left me your very, very irritating sense of humour, your charm in handling strangers, and so, so much more. While I’m not sure you would approve of some of the elements of my life, I can only hope that you would be proud of my accomplishments, as I am proud to be in any tiny way like you
To my first love; I guess you’re not really out of my life, are you? You still float about and pop up from time to time- still, all the same. I’ve thanked you before, and I’ll thank you again- you were one of the greatest things that ever happened to me. Before I met you, I floated about, assuming that love was this horrible thing, filled with fighting and mess and, well, that it wasn’t really worth it. You changed that; you educated me, and taught me that I’d never been in love before you. Hell, kid, you helped me to grow up more than so many other people I know. Things didn’t end on the greatest of notes, but we sorted that out, and I’m glad- it’s nice that we’re friends. I don’t think I could’ve got through much of last year if we hadn’t been. All the emotions have numbed, or passed- you have a new boyfriend, and, I don’t think I’ve been happier for someone than I am for you, (although I’m still standing by the, ‘I will murder him if he hurts you, and there is nothing you will be able to do to stop me’ line)- but I just wanted you to know, that, you still sit in my mind, I can still feel some of the things you woke up in me floating around in there. Thank you, so much.
To my first group of true friends; The three of you know who you are. Our little group of crazy, knocked together idiots. It was an intensely emotional time- God, we were all only kids after all. You all, for a brief period of time, formed the rock of my world, and taught me how friends should be. How people should be. One of you in particular, my philosophical sparring partner, who hung around the longest- you who I was going on that ill-fated gap year with- you’ve taught me so much. You were a woman-man born in entirely the wrong time, a woman of the finest, kindest, and most fiercely loyal upbringing- and I loved you, with all my heart. I guess we were the last of a dying breed, after all!
That is far from being everyone that has had an effect on my life, on my current situation, on who I am. There are so many people that I could thank for what they’ve taught me, or for the love they’ve shown me- these people, though, are people who have left. People with whom something has been lost, or something has changed, (or, in the case of the middle one, with whom things can never really be the same, even if I am comfortable with how they are now). They are people whose influence I feel all the more strongly for their absence. This doesn’t stop me from thanking you all, of course. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again- I’m so proud of being a part of this little, silly experiment called life. It’s so great to be growing up around you all, and being able to watch you all develop as people. Thank you, for making my world so wonderful.
I want you to do me a favour. It’s a good one, and it’ll make your day. I want you to take a moment, go out there, and thank someone in your life for what they’ve done for you. Especially those who wouldn’t usually. If you sit down and think of all the people who’ve had a massive influence on your life, and think of the influence you’ve had on other people, it tends to blow you away. So sit down, pick one person, and just tell them how thankful you are for knowing them.
I hope that helps you to have an awesome weekend, As ever, send me a little email on jol20@aber.ac.uk, because fun times and I like stories, I’m a cool person,
I often worry that I’m big headed. People accuse me of being arrogant and self-centred quite often, and this worries me a lot, because I genuinely don’t think that I am. I like to spend time analysing my emotions and my motives and my influences, and to question whether I am one thing or another, but quite often, especially lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about this notion that I might be big headed. How are you supposed to know, to find this out? How are you supposed to know if you’re doing wrong?
A friend recently attacked me by saying, ‘You know Jordan, we’re adults now, and part of being an adult is that you have to be willing to be proved wrong’. This took me quite by surprise- I am usually more than willing to be proven wrong. I try to make a habit of thinking over situations and arguments, and, if on further reflection I know I’ve put myself in the wrong, to apologise and admit defeat. And yet, this friend must have some grounding for saying this, some justification for accusing me of this stubborn defiance, mustn’t he? I, of course, have to stand by myself in the matter. I don’t think I did anything wrong, and by virtue of human psychology, my psyche rushes to defend itself and construct defences about why I’m in the right. But is that helpful? How fragile must the mind be, if it needs to defend itself from one person making an off comment?
I recently related to a friend that this is one of the happiest periods in my life- and it is. For the first time in my life, I find myself quite content with who I am, with my looks and my personality and my abilities, while still admitting that there is room for improvement, and working to achieve that. One of the natural outcroppings of this is a sense of self-confidence, a big, ‘Yes I can do that, I’m quite good at such and such’. I know where my limits are. Yet, it is always nagging in the back of my mind- am I just full of myself? People whom I have spoken to about this always say no, and yet, it still dwells in my thoughts. If people feel the need to tell me that I’m full of myself, I must be doing something wrong.
Although, having said this, it could just be them. One of the things I’m quite thankful for is that, after spending the entirety of Primary and Secondary school being bullied, (it’s a fun place to be in, being eighteen and still being bullied), my mind has built itself lots of nice little ways to deal with attacks. Of course, I’m aware that I still take insults to heart, but it’s nice that my mind chews them over before spitting them out, and tries to take what it can from rude people. I say rude people, because I don’t like to think of them as bad people, especially the ones that are my friends. I know that I can handle it in the long run, and I know that it’s always healthy to measure yourself and see if you really are doing right.
I don’t think I’m big-headed. I don’t think I’m self-centred, or ‘clingy’, or ‘attention-seeking’, or any of the other labels applied to me. I think that, quite simply, I am myself. I am happy with who I am, I have a healthy amount of self-confidence, and I have a love of spending time with people, especially those I love. And I’m fairly certain that that’s a good thing.
I hope you’re having a spectacular weekend. As ever, send me an email at jol20@aber.ac.uk, I would love to hear from you (especially if it will help my portfolio.) I’m a cool person, Jordan
Every day that we wake up, we make bold steps in our lives. Whether these are steps backwards or forwards is entirely up to our motivations, decisions and rationing- and for me, this entire week has been a very large step back before a big one forward, and one very long meditation on my position in regards to humanity as a whole. We are all, at times, tested by things that shake our perceptions and beliefs to the core, the result of which either leaves us in a stronger or weaker position than we were previously. I, for all my philosophising, and for all my proclaiming a certainty that humans are all, essentially good, have been forced into a state of rethinking after some news and ALL OF THE DRAMA that has unfolded over the past few weeks.
It’s an unfortunate position to be in, of course, where you are chilled to the bone by the actions of certain people, (and the several different dramas that unfurled around me in the past few weeks have all done a magnificent job of magnifying each other and making everything a bit of a disaster in my head). Even though I am not a major player in any of these dramas, they still, unfortunately, have shattered some former illusions, caused me to look at people, and events, in new lights, and generally made the world seem like a much less nice place overall. That is, until I got over the initial shock, and let myself sit in the corner for a bit to think about things.
Yes, my illusions have been shattered- yes, I have spent a week despondent and generally disenchanted with humanity- and yes, this is a good thing. I attempt, as best I can, to deflect the idea that I’m naïve- and I know I’m not, generally. However, there are, like in all people, little corners of the psyche where we still cling to childish notions and beliefs, and where we still have our little stupidities. One of the things that I could see, and was aware of as a problem, was a ridiculously overly-reliant sentimental attachment to a particular group of people, that caused me both extremes of pleasure, and extremes of pain- and with the commencement of one of these dramas, I was so shaken to the core, that I managed to detach myself- my lovely little brain is finally adjusting itself to my less-than-involved role in the dynamic of a group of friends that it has been ignoring this past while. Another thing that has occurred is that, I have been forced to change my views on a large number of people- I rested easy, previously, by thinking, ‘These people are all entirely good, and would never do anything bad, or stupid, or anything like that.’ The nature of all of the things that have occurred, however, has got rid of this notion, (and now I’m aware of how ridiculous it was).
This of course all sounds quite bad, quite doom and gloom, (or at least it does to me). And perhaps it is, perhaps these new revelations mark the end of an era, an end to a particular kind of innocence- whether that is good, or bad, I guess there isn’t a going back. But, for now, I am happy- happy that I am so acutely aware, at this present moment, of how much I have changed over my life, and how the world has moulded me. And that, I think, is beautiful.
Take a moment, now. Sit down, and think- how did you think four years ago, two years ago, last week? Think about the paths your thoughts took, the circuits they made, (and if you don’t know about thought and emotion circuits, go look into the TEDTalk about them that I am in too much of a hurry to find- there’s SUPER WEATHER OUT THERE DAMNIT). Think about how you are different now, and why you have changed, and what you have changed, and whether or not you’re happy with that change. I’ve changed, more than I’m probably aware- I can see the way my brain works, and why it works, and, without sounding vain or big headed, I’m honestly quite proud of myself. (Not in a, ‘Wow, look at me, I’m amazing way’, more in the, ‘N’aww, good boy Jordan, you do clever things sometimes’ way. Although, I think the fact that I have several different levels of thought that all live together in my head and compliment and reinforce each other is probably a very, very strange thing. If not, let me know!) I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished with my life, and the strides I’ve made to be a well rounded person. And I think that that is a very, very healthy way to be.
Now! Now that I’ve said my piece, GO OUTSIDE. Honestly, the sun is out for the first time, and knowing Britain, the last time, for summer. Get out there! Immediately! (Sun is good for depression, and the skin, and for a general sense of accomplishment.) Go!
I’m not going to post a poem this week, because the one I’ve been working on for the past week is one I’m submitting to a competition, because I’m really cool. Next week though. Next week. (He says, knowing he promised that last week.)
Presently, I am incapacitated, suffering from the payment for a very, very lovely evening of alcohol abuse. A hangover is a great thing, eh? It’s been two weeks now, since the last blog- two wonderful, wonderful weeks, of rolling around Ireland being super-cool, and rolling around my lovely Aberystwyth. I could, of course, write about some of the big things happening in the world at the minute- Maggie’s death and North Korea, both of which I’m quite interested in, but for one, I don’t believe in commenting on political periods I have no experience of, and for the other, Kim Jong-Un is nowhere near as funny as his dad. So instead, I want to make a little list- a list of all of the very silly things I learnt about the world while I was home.
1. Animals don’t like snow. Especially animals in the zoo. Which is quite unfortunate, and led to the closure of Belfast zoo- I mean, I always thought an elephant would look awesome with a big white coat on, but apparently, they disagree.
2. Drinking in Belfast is expensive. £5 for a single whiskey and Coke? £30 for a taxi home? BAD BELFAST.
3. Belfast is AWESOME to drink in. I met some of the most bizarre people while doing my ‘Loud and talkative’ thing. It comes quite in handy when attempting to make new friends. And, after all this time in Aber, being in a big city, where I can dive from jazz-bar to weird-indie-inthedark-bar, (and by dive I mean, they told me off for being noisy so I left), is an amazing feeling.
4. Getting up at 7AM and travelling till midnight is exhausting and makes everyone want to kill each-other. This isn’t helped by people being at each-other’s throats already over… certain difficulties of traveling back.
5. Ireland doesn’t have those weird self-service-ticket-machines. Anywhere. So don’t go looking for them.
6. People can be thoughtless and silly, and can make you want to slap them in the head. But that’s probably a bad idea.
7. It’s disgusting to talk ill of the recently dead. Give them fifteen, twenty years of peace before you start acting like an asshat at least.
8. Walking for six hours results in the GREATEST SLEEP EVER. EVER!
9. One of my best friends is scared of the dark, and finds it difficult not to pee on cats.
I think that’s my lot for the week. I do promise to resume normal service next week. (Unfortunately, I feel as though I am genuinely going to keel over and die. So, y’know, if you don’t ever hear from me again, well, yeah. You know what happened. You know it was the alcohol that did it. AVENGE ME.)
No poems or stories for you this week, I’m afraid!
Have an awesome weekend, I’m a cool person, Jordan
Ever since my ex, one morning before Christmas, decided that he was getting up at 7/8 AM, and forced me to get up at the same time- (And I mean forced, he grabbed me into a hug and rolled us out of the bed), I’ve been convinced of the magical power of waking up before noon. This week, I’ve started waking myself up at 7.45AM, a time that, previously, I reserved for my 9am lectures or for travelling. AND I FEEL GREAT. Of course, it’s only been a week of this early-morning-wake-up-ing, but I have some initial observations that, for posterity, (and because I really like numbery-bullety-blogs), I want to record. So without further ado, here is my list of observations on the pros and cons of waking up before 8AM.
Frasier is great; It might be a silly reason to relish waking up early, but there is something wonderful about being able to catch up with the hyper-intelligent, yet completely ridiculous American and his small circle of friends and family. I think there are few things better for your brain than waking up to a few healthy hours of a good American comedy.
Productivity levelled up!; Prior to this week, it took me three months to read twenty pages of War and Peace. In the past two days, I’ve read two hundred. On top of that, I’ve written ten or eleven new poems, a short story, and I’m working on a second, and have made a glorious push with my ‘Teach Yourself Harpy-things’ book. I’m not saying that waking up early makes you extra productive- I think it’s more that, by getting up early, and having a very, very large amount of time in the day, we manage to do more in it than otherwise.
Getting a ‘little’ cranky; A downside of this waking-up-early business is that my body still wants to go to sleep at 1am- so I’m not getting a particularly large amount of sleep. This isn’t so bad, until I start to get moody and angry, at which point my fake-wife and I have an enormous fight, and I kick everyone except her out of the kitchen before I do someone some serious physical harm. I’ve always had a short temper- Dean’s inability to understand the difference between a pun and him saying a word and yelling, ‘IT’S A PUN’, however, nearly started World War Three.
All the need for food; This one surprised me a little. I’ve always known my diet is weird- due to some lovely freak of biology, I exist in one of two states on any given day; incredibly ill or incredibly hungry. Thanks mother nature! So I will have days where I eat a very large amount, and days where I eat comparatively little. One thing I’ve noticed with all this getting-up-early business is that my body has suddenly decided that, even if it is sick, it needs ALL OF THE FOOD. Which is kinda nice, actually, I’m starting to feel like a pretend-healthy person.
I feel young again; Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m about fifty every day. I think it’s a combination of psychological factors and the fact that I am EXTREMELY UNFIT. (Laziness is next to Godliness!) With all this getting up early, though, I’ve been walking a lot more, and enjoying myself a lot more- I think it’s starting to revert my age back to what it should be!
I get to go outside more; Walks. ALL of the walks. I went for a walk for four hours the other day, and when I got home, there was still plenty of time left to do so much more stuff. Long days = long walks.
Mingling with the morning owls, nattering with the night owls; My body is a wonderful, wonderful thing, and I genuinely appreciate its putting up with me. Presently, it’s putting up with this morning-thing, and in doing so, it’s letting me chill with my morning-awakening-friends, while keeping me up till 1am, so letting me get down with my never-going-to-sleep friends. (I’m looking at you, Matt.)
It’s not really an argument ‘for’ waking up early. It’s so nice to wake up at a time that your body says is natural. However, all I can say is that, for the past week, life has stopped feeling like it’s rushing by me, and I’ve begun to feel like I’m back in charge of myself. I’ve got goals, I’ve got ideas, I’ve got projects- I’m pulling my world together, and it’s all started by waking up early!
I don’t think I’ll say anything more on the subject; it’s a small blog today, (mostly because I forgot it was Saturday), however, I’m away home to Ireland on Monday- so next Saturday, you will either have a blog, or a drunken slur. (Actually, now that I think about it, there probably won’t be a blog next Saturday, it’s more likely to appear on the following Tuesday. Not that that really matters.) I have a little poem for you, and then I’m off to enjoy the company of Frasier. This, for a change, has an inspiration I can talk about- a Polish piece of orchestral music written during the Second World War that was on ClassicFM (single greatest radio station IN THE UNIVERSE). Enjoy!
They’re breaking down our doors.
I can hear their voices, out in the street-
Foreign tongues crying foreign names.
I hold my children, listen to them come-
Boots on the stairs, charging-
Gunshots and cries-
What’s happening mommy-
Terror,
Not like before.
Not two years ago, those stairs were happy-
There was always revelry here.
Always a piano singing, a dance, a feast-
Now the piano calls its last
As it hits the street below.
We wait, destitute, as they pour in-
Angry faces, barking,
They crash over and crush
Like a terrifying wave,
Engulfing our once-happy world.
*
Fifty years, sixty years, time flies on.
I went back there once, stopped to watch-
Hoping to see… Well, I don’t know what.
The old piano, maybe,
Or some trace of our former life-
But it’s all gone.
There’s a park, now, happy faces,
Not like before.
My home, once proud,
Is now ashes that raise our youth.
Ah, Warsaw, how you have changed.
That’s all from me, anyway. I hope you’re having an awesome weekend, and I hope you have an awesome week- I know I will! As ever, feel free to send me a little email and tell me stories about your week, or your life, or anything you find interesting, at jol20@aber.ac.uk!
Something about what Tim Minchin says in the above song, (provided that my embedding skills are awesome enough to get it in there, (no that wasn’t meant to sound rude)), really resonated in the vast, mostly empty halls of the inside of my head. This entire week has been spent, for the most part, dealing with the much-dreaded ‘drama’ that comes along with being a human being. It’s felt a bit like a siege from all sides, made much more desperate by the fact that some of the corrupt officers within the city walls decided to have a bit of a drama of their own. I’m not one for complaining much, unless you’re my wife, in which case, I AM SORRY YOU HEARD THE SAME STORY ELEVEN TIMES, BUT, DEAL WITH IT, YOU (fake) MARRIED ME. I was sitting in this ‘little pit of grr’ as I like to call it sometimes, thinking about how much the world could change if I just had this much money or lived in this place, or if I could be bothered focusing for all of a week to blast out an armada of work that I can submit to all of the places so I will be super-rich and famous and win all of the- It was while thinking this, in that lovely thing we as a species tend to do called ‘Not doing things because you’re too busy thinking about how awesome life will be when you’ve done them’, that I realised just how happy I am in life, right at this moment. As Tim says, it might not be perfect, but it’s mine.
Lets just take a moment and think about that. Let the mantra sink in, say it a few more times; ‘Life might not be perfect, but it’s mine.’ Do you feel that sense of power? There’s something in that, something in understanding that, that really fires up my soul. I fear that we often feel lost in life. We spend far too much of our time just rolling around being sad, feeling that, ‘If only we had this, or that, life would be better.’ If only something external would happen, everything would fix itself. When I repeat that mantra in my head, (as I have been doing while writing this article, because it just gives me the nicest buzz), I feel like I’m cutting through that. I think that, if we want life to get better for us, and for everyone around us, we have to take charge of our lives, take charge of ourselves. Destiny is not a thing that will move for you without you giving it a good kick up the bum first. And that, in itself, is a fascinating realisation.
There is a story about the Coronation of Napoleon that, while modern scholars debate it’s accuracy, I still find quite inspiring. The story goes that, when Napoleon was being crowned the Emperor of the French, His Holiness Pope Pius VII tried to place the specially made crown on Napoleon’s head, only to have him take it out of his hands and proclaim himself to be an Emperor crowned by man, not by God. While it’s a little disappointing that this story isn’t strictly true, there’s a moral to be found in it. Napoleon, essentially, decided that he was taking his life into his own hands, making his own destiny. He decided that the only person that could make him happy, the only person that could direct and organise his life into a state that he wanted to see was, of course, himself. Whenever I start to get down, or feel like I’m not in charge of my life, I repeat to myself, ‘I am my own crowner, the creator of my own destiny.’ (Because, honestly, if you’ve never tried having a personal mantra to repeat to yourself, you should. You have no idea how much it can help to just keep repeating a nice mantra in the back of your head, rather than exploding and killing everyone.)
We all need to take control of our lives, and not just that, but we all need to make the most of them. Carpe Diem isn’t a motto of, ‘Seize the day and do nothing but whatever makes you happy’, it’s a motto of, ‘Seize the day, and don’t rely on tomorrow bringing you all the things you want- build your own happiness now, today’, (at least, according to this Cracked.com article, FACTUAL*SOURCE; http://www.cracked.com/article_20251_the-5-most-frequently-misused-proverbs_p2.html ) and I think it’s important that we keep that in mind. If we try and take charge of our lives, but all we do is go out and drink every day, still maintaining a hope that everything will change by the grace of leaving the house, then we’re just repeating the same mistakes we always make; hoping that an external source will provide internal comfort. I think it’s essential that, instead of this, we all sit down, read a lot, find jobs, experiment- that we build ourselves a good, strong character, that will carry us through life’s difficulties.
We all need to learn to be happy by ourselves, how to shore up the walls in our souls, by taking charge of our lives. This is a horrible, daunting thing to think, because of all of the negative connotations of being alone. I like to think though that we’re never truly alone. Every time I think to myself, ‘Damn, I feel a bit lonely right now’, I look out my window at the people on the street and realise that, damn, they probably feel pretty lonely too.
I hope that makes some sense to you. It can be quite a nightmare, trying to organise my thoughts so that they make sense to everyone else. Oh the joys of being human, eh? Well, anyway, I have a nice little poem for you as well. (I had a short story, but I want to enter it into a competition, and there’s no pre-publishing allowed!) I hope you enjoy!
Do you know who I am?
You think you do, sure,
You think you see into my soul,
Mark me all down with one swift glance.
‘I know you’, you say, and dismiss my concerns.
And, hell, maybe you do. Maybe.
I don’t know me, though.
Every day is a new day.
Every day it starts again.
I see my dark three hundred and sixty five times
And lose myself the same.
Do you know who I am? Do you?
Tell me, please.
Help me know, please, help me see.
I am a whirl, a pit of mad strings of thought,
A hundred train tracks without a map.
Where am I?
Who am I?
Who- who are where?
Am I?
A-a-all is gone, all is gone,
C-c-can madness descend,
Can- can find we in pits of
Are the seeing
Who? Where do we keep
And first ourselves and keep
And find and keep and where
Itself and where am I
and who am I and
where am who and I
and
It falls flat, when you don’t know.
It’s hard to see how knowledge burns,
How the self can kill.
Am I mad for losing myself,
To the torrent of thoughts that drown me?
Or am I just like you,
Lost and alone in the world.
Well, that’s all from me this week. As ever, you can drop me a line at jol20@aber.ac.uk, if you want to have a nice chat about the world, or, if you want to have a sad chat about the world, or if you want to have a chat in general. I really like hearing peoples stories.
I love those moments where you’re sitting, sometimes quietly, sometimes in conversation, and suddenly you’re slapped in the face by a moment of pure insight. A moment where you can feel the strands of thought all pull together and begin to make sense, or the moment where you understand just how bizarre and confusing the world really is- and you realise how beautiful that is. I was sitting on one of these widely acclaimed ‘Nights out on the town’ in a small pub here in Aberystwyth that’s built on a pier, having a conversation with a really lovely lady and two fantastic gentlemen, (including the paradigm of amazing, Mr. Matt Wheatley) about why we dislike stereotypical gay culture, when I wasn’t struck, or hit, but was forcefully PUNCHED by one of those moments.
Do you know how bizarre it is that we all exist at all, in our communities and little networks? As humans, we build ourselves little worlds, little bubbles that contain all our thoughts and interests. Sometimes, these little worlds collide- our friends, our families, our relationships as a whole, all these things tie our little sphere’s together. This in itself I find beautiful, but what really struck me last night was the worlds that we don’t see. When you walk down the street, depending on where you live, you will see hundreds of people you don’t know- not something we often pay attention too. Each of these people is their own world. Each of these people has an entire nebula of feelings, thoughts, stories, interests, friends, families- and you may never come into their world at all, except in the brief moment of your passing on the street. There is something devastatingly beautiful about this, I think. Sometimes I need to sit down, and remember that every living thing that you see is a self enclosed story, just like me.
I think that looking at the world like this helps us take a new pleasure in our existing relationships. This struck me most prominently last night when I lost control of my limbs, flopped onto the floor, and tried to crawl out of my living room like a jellyfish. While I was lying there, laughing at how ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS I am, (which should be read as, laughing at HOW MUCH OF AN ENORMOUS TIT I am), I realised how safe I was, how happy I was. I was in a room, (well, kind of halfway between two rooms, I was lying in the doorway), of people who put up with me being insane and incredibly irritating just because they genuinely enjoy my company, and because they have that deep, weird, gross and sticky feeling of platonic love for me. And that, I think, underpins why life is wonderful. There are people out there who will enjoy your company, no matter how incredibly irritating you are. (This is a big thank you, in my weird Jordan way, to all of you guys. You know I would probably be flopping around being sad if it weren’t for all of you amazing, amazing people.)
It’s sad, though, in its way. Contained in this knowledge is the horrible truth that, in a world of so many stories, we will only get to experience a tiny fragment of the whole. The sum of human experience is at play out there, and we won’t see even half of it. Even in our little communities, our little tribes, there is so much going on that we don’t see, beyond the vague areas where our lives overlap. It’s all so ridiculously fascinating. I’d like to encourage you all, if I may, to take a few moments to think about just how big and complex life really is. Once you start thinking of what’s happening in life outside the boundaries of your mind, and start seeing how amazing the connections that build our world are, you’ll probably have to sit down and eat a biscuit.
Anyway, I’d like to offer you another little poem that I’ve written. It’s not anything to do with what I was just talking about, (which is unfortunate, because I would probably have a better way of introducing it if it had been), but about a particular way of feeling about someone I remembered in a dream, a way of feeling I thought I’d forgotten. It’s been a long time, a very long time, and that memory had started to slip away, but, it’s amazing how much the human mind hides from you and keeps safe.
There’s that old, familiar knife in the back-
I guess it’s all coming down now.
Don’t think this was your fault, though;
I’ve just forgotten how that happiness felt.
The years have made me numb, not bitter,
And-
Well, I did have that dream.
You were there, and I was happy.
No. WE were happy.
I’d forgotten that. Back then. That day.
That burning-through-you fiery disaster,
Love.
I don’t want it again, not from you.
It wouldn’t be the same.
You and I will never have that back, I’m afraid,
(Although, I guess we never really lost it either),
And I’ve forgotten how to be happy like that.
I guess… I guess I could try-
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.
That’s me for this week! As ever, I hope you’re having a super-awesome week and are looking forward to a super-awesome weekend! If you feel like having a chat or sending me in some amazing stories of what you’ve been up too, (because I do like hearing from people, especially complete strangers, about what they think is exciting. People are fascinating), then send me a line at jol20@aber.ac.uk!
‘If somehow, you could pack up your sorrows, And give them all to me, You would lose them- I know how to use them, Give them all to me.’ – Joan Baez, covering someone.
Hello again there my dear reader-friend-anonymous-person, and how are you? I have as ever been having the most incredibly unusual week, (that is, unusual by the standards I imagine are normal for everyone else, I tend to think my weeks are quite normal), and it’s had me thinking about the world and life and all of those big important things we’re supposed to think about from time to time. I’ve also included a little poem, (just for your reading pleasure. Or maybe for mine. Why does anyone do anything?) The most important event, the one which this whole week has been revolving around, was the night a close friend tried to kill himself. I won’t name any names, and I imagine it’s no-one you know. This is one of those things that, when the panic has gone, when the dust settles after the flurry of worrying, you have to sit back and think about things. Or I think so anyway, and I didn’t have much else to do while we sat in A&E for eight hours. I don’t think people who haven’t been there ever really understand what it’s like, what that overpowering, overwhelming need to just end things can do to a man. (Or a woman, I just refer to things in my own gender a lot.) It’s a sore, crippling feeling, and part of an enormous ‘negative feedback loop’ as one of those TED Talks put it. It’s devestating, and yet, it seems so misunderstood by the general public. I’m sure some of you out there will read this and your mind will instantly run over ideas of attention seeking, or selfishness, or stupidity, and perhaps all those things come into play. However, the one crucial thing is that in that moment, in those hours, the most horrific of things was possible, and was likely to happen. My friend is, of course, on the mend, and seems completely fine now. The whole ordeal was excellently handled by our fantastic police force, our University porters and resident tutors, and by the hardworking staff of Aberystwyth’s hospitals. He’s got the whole world looking out for him, at the minute, which is a nice place to be, really. This is one of the things I was thinking about especially over the weekend; I had honestly forgotten how much support there is available for people. I realised how much the people genuinely wanted to help; They didn’t want to help because it was their job, they took that job because they wanted to help. Is’t that just lovely? Well, I think it is. I want to urge anyone out there who is feeling suicidal to go speak with the hospital, or with someone trained to help- because, it will. It will help so unbelievably much, whether you think it will or not. Another thing that this had me thinking about was my own place in the world. It’s no secret that I get depressed on a semi-frequent basis, in the, ‘Lying on my floor for five hours because I can’t move because I’ve lost all the energy to sad’ way. (Thanks so much to my fake-wife who’s been putting up with my ridiculous mood for the past two months to a greater extent than anyone else.) I’m not ashamed to admit this, or whatever you’re supposed to be when you say you’ve got a severe mood disorder. I figure that it’s payment for how freakin’ over-the-top happy I am the rest of the time, so, I just deal with it. Up until now, though, I’ve been worried about suicide. Not that I want to kill myself, I’ve just been worried that that thought will wriggle its way in there and I’ll do something that I would regret later if I wasn’t dead. Once it’s in there, it can be a hard thought to shift. This whole ordeal, however, helped me remember that there is a MASSIVE network of support available if that happens- and something about that is really, really comforting. I want to thank the network of people who helped us out over that very, very long night; the Police, the University Porters, the Resident Tutor, the Hospital Staff, and to thank my seminar tutor for his lovely concerned email, and all of that. It’s quite nice to know that, even as an adult, there are still people out there who can help. Yay! Anyway, here’s a little poem I wrote a while ago, (which is context-speak for, I forget writing this.) I’m off to visit my friend in the hospital, (which means road trip, YAAAAY). The Irish have a very fun way of making light of a bad situation, although I think it probably pissed the doctors off when I started making ridiculously dark jokes at my friends expense to him. We show concern by being dicks!
Was there nothing we could do? No falling of words to heal Whatever rancid wounds you saw? No act, of passion if not love That in its working would make all right? I don’t presume it appropriate, but then, Frankly, I don’t care. You have made your choice, and I, I must accept. Give you up. Surrender. Yet, still, I have to ask- Before the curtain falls on Our one act play, Was there nothing we could do?
I’m a cool person, Jordan!
(P.s., as ever, send me emails! Write stories for me! Send them all to Jol20@aber.ac.uk- I’d really love to hear about the interesting things you all get up too! x)
I'm a Cool Person. 