Would you like to be my friend? No,I don’t value him highly
Would you like to fall in love? I’d rather swim through it.
Would you like a new car? I’ve not got an old on
What is your name. No, it’s not, it’s Nat.
What shall we eat tonight? I can chew my nails after putting mango chutney on them I don’t like to eat snails
but neccessity is the mother of invention Will you saute them in olive oil? No, I’ll stuff them into a tomato You need a big one I’ll crush them I’m my
How cruel cookery can be But not as bad as Goering,Stalin,Hitler or Nero. Snails won’t know that But we know
Where are the children? I didn’t know we had any
Why are we in bed? Because we are married Since when? Gosh, you’ve got dementia already Well, we do live in a Care Home Wow, only 29 and in a Care Home.
The triumph of the three Bielski brothers, Tuvia, Zus and Asael, who fought the Nazis in the deep forests of Belarus and saved 1,200 lives, was unlike anything I had ever read about that dark time. Rather than victims wearing yellow stars, here were fighters in fur chapkas brandishing submachine guns. Instead of helplessness and submission, here were rage and resistance.
I knew of the uprising in the Warsaw ghetto, yet it seemed to stand alone in the popular imagination as the only moment in which organized opposition took root. Yet I have learned that, contrary to the conventional wisdom, the impulse to fight back was everywhere: from the streets of Vilnius to the forests of Bialystok, even unto the concrete slabs of Sobibor and Treblinka, thousands of Jews doing whatever they could, whether seeking refuge in the sheltering woods or recklessly taking up arms against overwhelming odds.
Learning of these defiant acts awakened in me something utterly primitive and deeply personal, a wave of awe, humility and admiration.
And outrage, too. Why, I wondered, had I not known these stories while growing up? Could it be that the necessary commemoration of six million dead had
Stan was a very naughty man because he winked at his dear wife before dying and she had no chance to respond. That is so typical of Stan, she said to Annie, her best friend. Well, at least he went peacefully.Annie replied in a kindly tone And to think I had just bought him 6 new pairs of pyjamas. You can’t blame him for that.You always buy too much, Annie murmured politely Well, I suppose I like to be prepared, Mary muttered.I felt so helpless as he went thinner and thinner. What are you going to do with them all, Annie whispered. There’s only one solution.I’ll have to find a man to fit the pyjamas and marry him That’s a strange way of choosing a new husband, Annie said in a shocked voice. In the end however rational we try to be, life is down to luck. Yes, didn’t Churchill say, chance favours the prepared mind? It wasn’t Churchill, it was Blaise Pascal.Mary told her in a voice rich with wisdom Well, why not marry him? He sounds intriguing He’s dead, Mary responded succinctly Oh, what a pity.He sounded just right for you, Annie said tearfully.Are we going to the funeral? I am afraid he died before we were born, Mary said in an anguished tone. Well, he’s no use.Anyone else you fancy?How about Dante? Annie screamed Which Dante do you mean?I thought he was Italian, Mary informed her. It’s not far by plane, though Brexit might be a problem, Annie said wisely. Let’s be realistic.No dead, great genius will be revived by the Lord to marry me.Mary said as if she were lecturing to a big class on differential geometry and its use in economics.No wonder we had the Depression That might be blasphemy, Annie informed her.After all, if God is omnipotent he can do anything at all. To me, he sometimes seems incompetent, said Mary wildly.And of all the lonely people in the world, why should he aid me in my grief? Anway male geniuses are very demanding.I think a cook or chef might be more practical. Oh, look, we’ve missed Mass again. We’ve not been for 40 years and just when we decided to go we started talking about these powerful creatures and a husband for you Never mind, why don’t we wait till Xmas? And so say all of us.
I studied the Arts of Love and War. I studied higher dimensional geometry. I studied other realities And I produced a learned article, As I love the strange world of the particlel
.So when the day came I studied you. I found I love you so much too. I don’t need mathematics to know what’s true For my heart has reasons anew. Equations have positive and negative solutions. Metaphors for Love, Hate and Evolution. Reflecting a long mirrored Revolution.
I love Abstract Geometry, And I love knitted Topology, Even if it’s a whimsical Tautology. It taught me the simple wisdom. Of Crocheted Accountancy, Knitted boulangerie. Strings of theorems dangling, Make a very good wall hanging And woven Number Theory Because it’s so springy and cheery. It makes a very lovely bedspread . Somewhere to rest my dreaming head.I like the Surface Geometry Of your Body,more than I like General Relativity, Or Algebraic Topology, Or even Love Poetry. I want to view all of you. I need to love,and to hate you, too. I study your personal Trigonometry Your so solid Geometry. Your personal Morphologhy.I love your geniality And your cool conviviality Love has proved good for us two, More certain than Pythagoras’s theorem Was thought to be, before Riemann. Now all my cello strings are vibrating too. What did you do?I’d like to have a dance with You To the music of General Relativity Will you come and waltz with me So we can spin within the Spheres Hear music non-Platonic too? Subtle harmony,sweet geometry, Algebraic symmetry,quizzical homology. Radical new cosmology.I am woven and patterned with you. We make a fine bed spread too Uniting the male and the female view, Incorporating the bodily anew.I love to see your corporeality. Your eyes and facial originality. You’re so whimsical and non-inimical too. Let’s unite the sensual With the metaphysical. Our love hit the critical Mass to go into orbit to Encircle the entire Universe It just grew and grew and grew. Now we have much co-creating to do, Taking the very long term view. And much more lovely dancing to The music generated by us two In collaboration with All that the world is.
Our Father,Stars in Heaven,
Spell out thy Great Name.
Thy wisdom comes
And Angels’ sums
Add up our human pain.
Thy love is felt,
Though we live in doubt
About the human game.
Give us delay
On bankers pay,
And forgive us our lackluster efforts
As we forgive those who lack real involvement with us,
And guide us into a Demonstration
To make plain to the Nation
The evil done to the Poor,
The Disabled,the Mentally Ill,
And their Carers.
For Thine is the Trial
At the Hour of the Bible Story
We hope but are nervous.Amen
Humility includes an appreciation that our perception and thoughts about others, ourselves, events, and the world are subjective and tentative.
‘Subjective’ means that others perceiving the same event can have very different interpretations of that event. For example, we may argue with a loved one or colleague and later they report a very different experience of what they thought the argument was about.
‘Tentative’ suggests that each of us tends to change our own interpretation and perspective of the same event over time. We ourselves may have a very different experience of a particular argument than
Another main tool developed by Dr. Robins to increase humility as part of Wisdom Therapy includes visual illusions. We all have a certain amount of certainty and arrogance regarding what we think and see. It turns out the two are interconnected with sayings such as “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Visual illusions serve to shake up that arrogance and facilitate a humility regarding not only what we see, but bridging that over towards uncertainty and humility regarding what we think, expect, and believe. That humility tends to arise in late life-span development associated with wisdom. Visual illusions, Robins argues, facilitate that development in earlier stages.
The end of values, kindness, earned respect The loss of wisdom,history and truth The pillars of democracy are cracked.
The centre of the heart,who can protect? Conspiracy and madness unseat proof An end of values, kindness, earned respect
Violence is admired though lives are wrecked The lasting triumph of the folk uncouth The pillars of the Western Mind have cracked
Their minds unfurnished seem bereft of tact They tread on others words like horses’ hooves The end of values, kindness, earned respect
How can such opponents make a pact? The calculating crucify our youth The pillars of the Western Mind have cracked
Yet Western Empire builders had no ruth They tortured those they conquered group by group On such ground just madmen earn respect The altars of the Western Mind have cracked
If a packet of crisps costs one pound and you eat one every day then in a year you will spend 365 pounds unless you steal the crisps which I do not recommend.
So in 2 years you will have 730 pounds in savings which will be enough to buy you that laptop you fancy.
Inflation is 10% so that will mean that the laptop will have gone up by £73
You will have to give up crisps for 73 more days which is about 10 weeks and that is 1/5 of a year and it f inflation is still 10%
The laptop will have gone up by 2% so you will have to stop eating crisps for longer
Using this method will you ever be able to afford to buy the laptop you desire?
Why not try eating two packs a day for 6 months
Then you will save 1460 pounds in two years when you give them up
I think this is the word that newspapers create their headlines etc etc
The bowling green, the clack of ball on ball Across the grass as perfect as the dawn We sit down on a bench,new painted too Lumpy paint but good enough to do
Round the edge, the dahlias bloomed like suns No irony was meant nor overcome. Goldenrod, geranium were bold The earth was hot and rich in summer’s hold
Past virgin rhodedendrons , children played Swings and see-saws, all somewhat decayed Painted with the same paint as the bench I saw my father fall, I felt the wrench
Where shall Daddy sit when he comes home? I have lost his face., my heart lies torn
In my dreams I travel deep and low
Into the loving world of long ago
The jacket on the chair ,it smelled of smoke……
The funny tales, he sang, he laughed, he spoke
So faint the memory, strong are its remains
Security and love in our domain
The brushes and the stipplers all stood by
For no-one told his tools that he would die.
On his shoulders, like a queen I rode
So safe and happy on the path he trod.
His voice was clear and he could whistle too
In those days men were used to do
And love shone from him on my mother dear
She smiled and made us cakes for Sunday tea
What tragedy to leave his children five
But in that distant space ,he is alive
The fire as red as any glowing rose
We were dressed so well in home made clothes
Too happy, needing no words to relate
Our sense of being in this generous space
I can’t get back to them, I cannot swim
The passages too wet , the light so dim
Yet I feel it in my body faint and clear
Death is not the end of those so dear.
Deep inside our minds, ancestors live
And to out hearts a depth and breadth they give
Yet missing him,I hover near the place
Where I might dive into his dear embrace
The table where we banged our little heads
The chairs so close together like a bed
The teapot always full, the sugar bowl
The fire, the kettle , pussy cat and coal
The fireplace had its oven nice and warm
Looking at hot coals made me feel calm
The children seem to play in that far space
And all around is love and on and on I gaze
As Mary ate her Weetabix, she felt a pain in her left leg rather like a toothache gone astray
Emile, what are you doing?
Emile crawled out looking dusty. And he had just had a bath.
I was trying to bite the hairs off your leg, he miaowed plaintively
There are no hairs on my leg, she whispered. Oh, dear,I must have walked into a cobweb
I wish Stan had got a cobweb brush, she muttered tp herself
But do we really need a different brush for everything? Soon we will have one for each tooth. That will be expensive
She felt in her pocket for her Tablet. She wanted to draw a diagram of her brush cupboard using an Android App. But her pocket was empty
The back door opened and in ran Annie wearing a yellow nightdress and matching slippers
Hello, she cried. I wanted to catch you before 9 am
Why, asked Mary?
The postman will be here by then. He has got a parcel for me. But I put your address.
What is the point of secrecy when you live alone? You have no man to question your expenses, have you? Nor a woman either
Well, Emile might ask me to explain.
Just because Emile is male it does not give him the right to tell you what to do
All my life I have obeyed men, Annie cried
Yes, after you have manipulated, seduced and terrified them
That is very cruel. I was only trying to help them.
Well, you may have done, but why not help yourself?
How can I do that?
Tune into your body and see what comes to mind
Beetroot, Annie responded.
So you must need them, get dressed and we will go to the greengrocers
You have got very bossy, said Annie. Did you have a nightmare?
It was more like a night-tiger, Mary revealed. Something bit my foot and it hurt
Oh, mother , cried Emile, it was me!
You, Emile. What made you do that, she said angrily?
It was in my way as I crawled under the duvet, the cat whispered.
Surely you could have gone further down.
I wanted to see what you tasted like!
That is evil, not to say perverted, Mary told him. I shall take you for therapy or would Confession be better? Is it a compulsion you cannot help or is it a sin?
Annie was silent. She did not like questions nor any kind of prolonged thought
Don’t ask me, she finally said. Maybe Emile needs a man in the house.
I don’t want any more men, Mary said sadly. They seem to die
Well, Stan was 128 years old. Annie informed her.I saw his birth certificate once. Unless it was 12.8 years
Don’t be so ridiculous. How could he have been 12.8 years old?
It must be a miracle, said Annie. Tell the Pope and he might be declared a saint soon
St Stan of Knittingham, Patron Saint of Almost Adolescents.
The bell rang. In ran Dave.
He was dressed in navy.
I am ready to take you to Church, he told the ladies
To church? I’d rather go to Wigan Pier
Oh, the sea is not there on Sundays!
Is it there on the Sabbath, Annie muttered?
No, it’s not, Dave said quietly
Wow, two more miracles, she said as she fainted into the Pantry
How annoying, Mary said. I just classified the jam
Well, things could be worse, said Dave. She’s not broken any and cut herself
What, she falls and breaks nothing. She must be very light.
Yes, she is quite electric, he quipped
Whatever next? The marmalade!
And so ask all of us
I have walked the silent paths of grief Sunless,dreary,cold and all alone.
I have slept on beds of winter leaves.
I know that death’s a greedy starving thief. Although my heart weeps and my joy has gone. I have never felt I was deceived.
I have learned that human life is brief. I have learned by sorrow we’re undone. I have sifted earth and what’s beneath.
I have felt the dark emotions seethe I’ve felt cruelly burned by glaring sun. I have learned the geography of grief.
I wait in sorrow for this life to cease Yet some are never loved by anyone I have dreamed in beds of winter leaves
Unconsoled grief can make us dumb Into our hearts, we drag the ice that numbs I have walked the silent paths of grief I have made my bed on winter leaves
If everything is relative and nothing’s true or false We can’t make distinctions, the world does not exist Meaning leaks out faster than a a list of all our faults
The patient is unconscious but he/she has a pulse Waiting for the Coming of the Saviour or the Beast But everything is relative and nothing’s true or false
We think existential problems will be solved by someone else In the Vomitorium the leaders have their Feast Meaning leaks out faster by decision or default
The Leader’s being neutered;the people get more tense Then s/he went to Downing Street to get themself more pissed Drunkenness is relative ; the reading’s not the best
There is still a Dictionary; the words do not make sense We fall into chaos but we don’t know Them we’ve missed Meaning leaks out faster as we do not love pretence
I went to have my Orals,but they asked me to desist Every system’s incomplete,I wrote it on my wrist If everything is relative and nothing’s true or false Meaning has no meaning; what will we all do next?
Cheerful readiness to do something [ plus ditto to feel or be something]
Thinking about the significance of “willingness” , it comes to my mind that if we are asked to do something pleasurable we will not need urging.We will easily be willing unless we are masochists are have pressing needs that cannot wait.
So what is the significance of “willingness” when it relates to something unpleasant or painful we must do?
I can imagine one scene where I ask someone to do a small task for me and though they are busy they are “more than willing” knowing my circumstances.But I ask a different person and though they agree there is a grudging quality about their doing what I ask.
Tn the first case we all feel joy when we know someone will go out of their way to help us and in the second we feel uneasy about asking that person and neither side gains much from the transaction.
Now turn inwards and imagine that you wake up feeling in poor spirits and moreover you do not like this.That is, you are unwilling to feel the way you do.
In my experience being unwilling in that way makes the spirits worse. We have secondary anger or depression about our state which can only make it worse.
Now think of the term “acceptance”.We can easily imagine that if we can accept a situation we can deal with it better.So a wife who finds her husband’s hobby is studying maths in the evening is going to have a problem if she believed they would spend every evening chatting together.
The husband too has a problem that he may not have foreseen when he was madly in love.He has to work out how much time he needs alone with his abstractions or whether it is an excuse not to engage with his wife.
The wife who finds her husband genuinely needs to study for long hours or he is unhappy will have to consider whether she can accept this as a way of life or whether she should seek a better partner because nowadays women want to have their needs met too,
If she accepts it and adapts then she may be happy.A problem arises if she keeps up a war with her husband, criticizing and blaming him for his needs.I might say she can’t force him to talk to her as what value does it have when it is not spontaneous?
If people have good will towards each other then they can find a way of living and respecting the other.
If we have good will towards ourselves then we can accept and live with parts of ourself we do not like or parts which cause us suffering yet which cannot be changed and must be lived with.
If we don’t have good will towards ourselves then life is much harder as we attack ourselves with criticism and deprivation of love.
I think willingness or good will is crucially important in human life though no doubt I frequently forget it! Ill will directed anywhere outside or inside harms both parties or splits the self and causes deeper problems.
Of course, it is hard to be willing to suffer painful emotions but what choice do we have? Only to find the best way or at least
“to be willing to be willing”
as I describe it to myself.
Is willingness a virtue or a decision? Or an impossibility for some of us?
A study suggests that taking time to contemplate aesthetically pleasing art can boost abstract thinking and help free us from everyday anxieties. More specifically, it appeared to induce what is known…as psychological distancing, a kind of stepping back from your own thoughts, allowing for greater clarity and a healthier perspective.
While Mary sat in the kitchen on a large pine chair looking at Hotter’s latest shoe catalogue,Annie was creeping up the garden path in a pair of turquoise suede elegantly heeled shoes matching her teal tencel culottes and blouse.Round her neck was a large lump of amber on a gold chain handy for beating off muggers or lustful men and women Despite the heat she was in full splendour with golden beige tinted moisturiser from Langone of Lyons on her lovely complexion,pink eyeshadow from Yves St Current and dark brown boot polish as her mascara had run out and she’d not been out for a while to buy more Annie ran the last few yards and darted like an eel into Mary’s 1970’s orange kitchen. What on earth are you doing,dear? Mary asked her.Those shoes look unsuitable for leading anyone up the garden path.Mind you,I do like them Oh,I’ll explain,Annie said huskily. I told that psychotherapist across the road I was living with you. What exactly do you mean by living,Mary asked anxiously. Well,he said yesterday that anyone who lives alone must be lacking in some way.Except for him of course as he had full analysis with Alfred Zion. You mean Wilfred Bion,Mary told her. Zion,Bion,what’s the difference? It shows your lack of education,Mary told her.Not that education nowadays makes much difference when almost anyone can get a 2.2 .After all would you pay £90,000 for a fourth class degree in Aeronautical Engineering? And Zion is in the Bible That’s not quite what I would have done, said Annie.A degree in flirtation and pleasing men would be more up my street.And cooking of course although I once did have an interest in Hebrew and Aramaic. It’s not a way to progress in a neo-liberal economy,although reading the Hebrew Bible is always interesting.Personally I prefer that to the New Vex-a man.The stories,the love songs,the action.Mary’s round eyes gleamed with intellectual life and a bit of languorous lust How about God? Annie asked her. He seems to have changed as he related to his people.But he was a friend despite being an abstract concept.Though one could hardly call him a concept as he is inconceivable. Mary’s voice faltered as she was stunned by her own articulacy and wondered what she might say next that could offend millions around the globe with modern technology beinf so widespread You should write a book,Annie said kindly. I think I am ill-equipped to write about God.And ,also ,I am saddened to see how his own people have been treated.I can’t dwell on it over much as I already feel weak and weepy. Why what have you been doing,asked Annie. I have been sorting out clothes to give to the hospice shop. I’ve got a big bag full already and 2 bags of newspapers and rubbish of various kinds which somehow creeps into my bedroom… tissues,cotton wool, old hairbrushes.I am hoping to get it nice and neat before my sister comes to see me in August.And no doubt she will not be happy even then.She’d like me to buy a small new flat with a lovely bathroom and kitchen. But I don’t want to leave my neighbours behind.If I won the lottery I could get the neighbours to move as well.Love thy neighbour etc And now I realise I have far too many pans despite burning several.But it’s a big decision for a woman who was famed for entertaining friends with scorching Beef Vindaloo and lemon mousse that looked like yellow rubber.Giving that up is a big wrench. Why can’t you carry on, asked Annie. Carrying on is precisely why I can’t do it.Now I am a widow the wives of my former colleagues and my own women friends are afraid I will steal their husbands. Emile miaowed in ecstasy as any talk about the love lives of his family were always intriguing.He was hiding as usual behind the stone flour bin. Don’t you see,said Annie.If we pretend we are living together then you can mingle with men without suspicion. This is beginning to sound like a spy story,Mary told her.And do not drag me into a character part in the play based on your romantic love for that psychoanalyst. He looks ugly and boring to me. Oh,that’s just a projection,Annie told her.You are defending yourself against acknowledging how much you long to lie in his arms and let him smother you in kisses. Well,said Mary,I see you have been reading Freud for beginners again. Or is it Freud for Dummies? Mary recalled how nice her dummy used to taste when it was dipped into a jar of malt and codliver oil.Maybe that is the answer,she thought. I’m going to Mothercare,she called as she ran out of the house in her green trainers and denim trouser suit.See you later. Annie sat in the kitchen wondering how soon she could see the psychoanalyst again without being accused of sexual harassment.Even old age has not deterred her from seeking a replacement for dear old Stan.A few tears ran down her cheek and Emile jumped out and sat on her knee.
How my heart speaks 