Filed under: LOVE, Literature, Relationships, Single life, breakup, patriotism, philosophy, wisdom | Tags: boardgame, christmas, cooking, friends, housemates, ireland, LOVE, napoleon dynamite, new year, passion, philosophy, pirate, romance, trad, unlikely valentine
Hope everybody out there had a Happy Everything.
Christmas and New Year here were manic – I had three friends stay for New Year’s Eve, which turned into a week and a half of non-stop reminiscing, philosophising, dancing and romance. As a result of the madness, I’m really enjoying the silence in the house the last couple of days - everyone is settling back into their daily lives. I’m feeling very homely, cooking and baking every day. I’m broke, but I can always find the cash for fresh ingredients and kick-ass coffee.
In good old ring out the old, ring in the new tradition, the Pirate and I have decided to go our separate ways. For real this time! We’re really enjoying living together as friends, but there were a few awkward moments over the festive season as the Unlikely Valentine and his friends spent quite a lot of time here. It’s time to move on. The Pirate has given his notice on the property and started the search for new digs.
Napoleon Dynamite returned yesterday after a looong absence. He got me a Silverchair album for Christmas – he remembered that Ana’s Song is one of my all-time favourites. Sweet kid. I feel wretched as I gave in and drank the bottle of whiskey I’d bought him during one of our Big Nights. I’ll replace it with a more expensive bottle to make amends.
It was so wonderful to catch up with everyone over the holidays – two of my guests travelled from Germany, and one from England. It was amazing to be reunited with the most special people in my life for a few days. They’re my kind of girls – up for anything, and willing to analyse it all the next morning over breakfast pints! The biggest theme of the week was PASSION. I’ve been having my Christmas Fling with the Unlikely Valentine, the Femme has been enjoying a dalliance with a local bad boy, and the girls met a few interesting characters while they were here.
The situation with the Unlikely Valentine is as complicated as ever, but I think he’s out of my system for now. I saw a LOT of him over the holidays, and we moved our relationship up a few notches – introductions to friends, prearranged rendezvous, and boardgames. Where’s the excitement?! I got used to waking up beside him every morning, discovered where the stash of loo roll is kept, and grew familiar with the in-jokes. I’ve had high fives from his mates, and he even offered to cook me dinner one night. Enough with the romance already!
All I ever wanted from him was passion. And with the time we’ve spent together, that passion has faded. To put it very crudely, “If he doesn’t want to strip me naked and fuck me on the kitchen counter every now and then, what’s the point?” That’s an excerpt from a conversation with friends last week, and I have the feeling it’s going to stay with me a while.
The Femme, meanwhile, has ditched her bad boy due to similar issues and raised her standards. She will now only consider a relationship with a man who can answer the following questions:
a) Who is Charlotte Bronte?
b) Who wrote The Grapes of Wrath?
c) Who is your favourite poet?
With the return of Napoleon yesterday we decided a few drinks were in order. The four of us (The Pirate, Napoleon, The Femme and myself) went to one of our favourite pubs for the Monday night trad session. The place is a legend – great music, perfect pints, local poets and a cosy winter atmosphere. The Femme and Napoleon excused themselves early, and The Pirate and I were left to remember times past and discuss the new dynamics of our friendship. Time well spent.
I’d like to make a New Year’s toast - to true friends, literate men and happy homes. Happy New Year!
Filed under: philosophy | Tags: chaos, daytime TV, debate, draft, happiness, help, philosophy, self, therapy, typing, writing
I started writing a new post earlier this evening but I have the feeling that it’s going to linger in my Drafts for a long time before being fit for public scrutiny. The topic? Em, the essence of man, the constitution of self, or, Who am I?
I love sitting down and hearing the keys beating out my ideas, the steady rhythm of my typing lending a semblance of order to the chaos of my mind. Writing in any form has always been a form of therapy for me, and it’s still the only thing in my life that forces me to tabulate my thoughts. When it comes to the big questions in life, such as ‘Am I truly happy?’, ‘What should I do with my life?’ or ‘Is watching daytime TV ever acceptable?’, the most direct route to the answers that inevitably lie within is for me to sit down and transform my thoughts into comprehensible sentences.
It’s amazing how putting thoughts into words can wake you up to your own reality. I’ve realised that it’s common to be surprised or even mildly embarrassed by your own thoughts as they look directly back at you from a page or a screen. It’s as if you’ve transformed them from esoteric objects into material things – words are more measurable, more final and more solid than the contents of your mind.
As for the ‘Who am I?’ question, the internal debate continues. I’ve been overwhelmed this week by a catalogue of conflicting ideas on the subject. Help me out, if you can – who are you?
Filed under: LOVE, Parents, Relationships, Single life, philosophy | Tags: beauty, boyfriend, character, colour, partner, philosophy, psychology, quirk, relationship
The best thing about my philosophy class is the opportunity to see things from other people’s points of view. There’s one guy in particular that fascinates me. He’s in his mid twenties, has a head of unruly dark hair, loves torn jeans and orange knitwear. He reads a lot and often quotes interesting and relevant material. A few weeks ago he said that while knowledge is about learning something new every day, wisdom is about letting something go. And last Thursday, as we discussed beauty, he made a really valid point:
Once we give something a name, we stop seeing it as beautiful. An example – a simple concrete block, to someone who had never seen one and had no idea what its function was, would see it as an object of interest and beauty. The clean lines, the rough material, the solid form. But when we see a concrete block, we know it’s a concrete block, and because it’s familiar we see past its beauty.
I think most people would agree that we forget to see the beauty that surrounds us. New belongings are a thrill to begin with, but the shine quickly fades and we lose sight of the qualities that attracted us to them in the first place. As far as I can tell, the same thing happens with relationships.
When you first meet someone you enjoy learning all about them. About their interests, their history, their quirks and character. You enjoy the attraction, the chemistry, the conversations. Over time, however, you can easily begin to see past their redeeming features, noticing instead the negative things you have learnt or recalling the not so wonderful experiences you have endured together. That person that once gave you butterflies slowly becomes the person who never takes the rubbish out, who is incapable of replacing the toilet roll, or who infuriates you with their inability to fold towels.
The Pirate and I, after months of single living, get on better than ever before. He’s stopped being the disappointing boyfriend, the unreliable chauffeur, the uninspiring confidante, and instead, he’s just become himself in my eyes. I can see him, unhindered by the expectations of love. He is who he is, and he’s wonderful. Now is probably the time to admit that there have been moments of romance since the breakup. They too are somehow more meaningful than ever before, possibly because the relationship we have now is open and honest in a way I couldn’t have previously imagined.
I think we’ve all had some experience of this. Moments when you realise that yes, your parents are human. That someone you’ve known your whole life is capable of things you never realised. That your partner or spouse is truly wonderful and incredibly beautiful, only you’re not always aware of it.
Ah, philosophy. Did I mention the guy in question is particularly cute? I think it’s the ripped jeans, and the fact that he’s not afraid of colour. And the wisdom, of course.
Open yourself up.
Filed under: LOVE, Literature, Relationships, philosophy | Tags: attention, audience, devotion, existence, lightness of being, literary fiction, Literature, LOVE, milan kundera, philosophy, prague, psychology, relationship
A few years ago I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. It blew me away. It’s a novel by Milan Kundera set in Prague in 1968, and although I’m sure the book is of huge political and cultural importance I was most impressed by Kundera’s philosophy. His observations throughout the book provide an inspiring insight into the human mind.
Years later, I fell in love, devoted three years of my life to a certain beautiful person, and skipped the country when our relationship disintegrated. Months later we caught up and spent a night talking about ourselves, our love and our loss. One of the comments I made that night was that I felt at the time as if I had an invisible audience everywhere I went. I’m always looking for the approval or admiration of this group of fantasy critics.
Often, when I look back on a situation in my life where I behaved in a manner most people would describe as promiscuous/loud/irresponsible I can honestly say that I was just looking for a good story. Life is more interesting when you say ‘yes’, and an interesting life leads to interesting stories. My critics, immaterial as they are, love a good story.
Last night I watched The Unbearable Lightness of Being for the first time. It’s a beautiful film, and really captures the characters as they were written. Today I did a little more reading, and came across a quote that resonates deeply with me:
“We all need somebody to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under. The first category longs for the look of an infinite number of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public…
The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known eyes. They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners…
Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes of the person they love. Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first category. One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark..
And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present. They are the dreamers.”
So I’m a dreamer. It’s a theory I’m going to keep in mind over the next while, as I’m sure it has practical applications in gaining a deeper understanding of those around us.
Which are you?
Filed under: philosophy | Tags: aesthetic, beauty, happiness, heart, help, insight, opinion, philosophy, potential
Thursday evening is often the highlight of my week. It’s Philosophy night, and each week proves to be more thought-provoking than the last. Yesterday the main topic of conversation was Beauty – absolute beauty, or beauty itself, as opposed to the fleeting beauty of physical things.
Our tutor put forward the proposition that beauty is everywhere, in everything, and eternal. He made the point that beauty is everywhere, but sometimes we don’t see it. He gave an example of a septic tank - not generally recognised as an item of beauty, but certainly something that might be beautiful if seen through, for example, the eyes of a microbiologist.
I’ve been thinking about beauty a lot today, and I’m finding it difficult to simply accept his propositions as facts. That’s the wonderful thing about philosophy – instead of learning things that are scientific or true, we’re encouraged to explore all the possibilities of those things that can’t be measured or tested.
Beauty IS everywhere, as it is something that exists inside us and is reflected in the things around us. Beauty affects us by invoking an emotional response, creating happiness and opening our hearts. Beauty IS eternal, it has always existed and always will. But septic tanks? Even to a microbiologist, isn’t a septic tank more admirable due to its functionality, or interesting because of it’s content, than it is beautiful?
An interesting comment was made last night – that by defining things, and giving them names, we make the things around us less beautiful. An example was a simple concrete block – because we all recognise it, understand its function, and can name it, we are distracted from its true form. We might consider it beautiful if it was something we had never seen before. If this is true, then surely a septic tank is even less beautiful to a microbiologist who has an in depth understanding of its workings?
Just because beauty itself is everywhere, does that neccesarily mean that it is in everything? I can think of reasons why even disgusting things are of value in certain situations, even how things that strike us as ugly can be aesthetically pleasing to others. But Beauty – that beauty that opens the heart – I can’t imagine that it is present in everything.
Even if that beauty IS present in everything I’m not sure that I want to be able to recognise it. To see beauty in roadkill as easily as I see beauty in a sunset, or hear beauty in chaos as naturally as I hear it in a symphony. Wouldn’t that detract from our experience of beauty?
As I sit here with my laptop on my knee the sun is streaming through the sitting room window. This room, rarely recognised as a beautiful place, is lit up, the wooden chair across from me glowing in the late afternoon light. As the sun sets later this evening the view from that window is truly beautiful, as every day slowly ends in a subtly different way. The stars I can see from here on a clear night and the silhouette of the trees on the other side of the car park make me pause for a moment, aware of that happiness within, feeling my heart open up to the world.
I think everything has the potential to be beautiful. I think we could all begin to recognise the beauty around is if we simply took the time to see our surroundings with new eyes. I think by recognising beauty in the world around us, we become more beautiful ourselves, as our hearts open and fill with happiness.
I’d love to hear your views and thought on this… any insight is appreciated!
Filed under: Single life | Tags: behaviour, drunkeness, education, housemates, philosophy, romance, sobriety
I’ve been avoiding this blog lately, probably because I haven’t wanted to sit down and think about the emotions and experiences of the last few weeks.
But lo, Chris at A Free Man generously awarded me with a tap from his royal scepter a few days ago, and I’ve found the motivation to tap out my thoughts once again. Who is Chris? Does he even own a royal scepter? These are questions that are of no concern to me, as it’s simply nice to realise that there are people out there who read this thing on occasion.
I have to admit that there has been nothing royal about my behaviour recently, and even a tap with a royal scepter is unlikely to redeem my actions. The best explanation I can give is that I’ve been living the life of a drunken 16 year old the last few weeks. Especially the drunken part. It’s been a blur of nights out, nights in, cheap beer and straight vodka. So much so that I’m starting to feel disconnected from myself and the ‘real world’ around me.
I’m glad to announce that today is the day I sober up and get on with things. First on the agenda is an update on the romance front: There has been no romance. The Sage and I are still in touch, he’s as wonderful as ever, and it’s a friendship that will last. The Pirate (my ex-boyfriend) and I are still comfortably cohabiting, and we’ve had a couple of new arrivals to the household to shake things up a little.
First up is our very own Femme Fatale. She’s French, she’s 23, she’s intelligent, beautiful, and dangerous. Dangerous in the sense that she manages to convice me that straight vodka is a good idea after a few beers. We connected instantly, and I’m sure that we’re going to get one another into all sorts of trouble over the next few months.
Next is South-African Napoleon Dynamite. He’s too tall for his thin frame, his teeth are too long and his braces are fighting a losing battle, and he never leaves his room. When does he eat? The Femme Fatale finds his shy nature challenging, and is doing everything she can to get him to socialise with us. He’s terrified.
The Pirate is happy with his new housemates. He thinks the Femme and I are very similar, and I’m inclined to agree. We share a disinterest in TV, a love of International Cinema, and a disregard for conformity that makes us very compatible. Happy families.
In other news:
I mentioned before that I relish the freedom single life offers, and the potential for adventure suits me more that the security of a relationship ever has. The next adventure might be education – for the first time in years I’m seriously considering college in 2009. Philosophy or Psychology, maybe.
Once again thanks to A Free Man and his imaginary stick. I’m glad to be awake, sober, alive and writing.
Filed under: Discovery | Tags: inner peace, meditation, philosophy, relaxation, self-awareness, senses
Be still.
Notice the feel of your feet on the floor. The weight of your body on the chair. Your clothes against your skin. Become aware of the sounds around you… let your hearing expand past the furthest silence. Notice the taste in your mouth. If your eyes are open, notice the colours in front of you, without comment. Notice the smells in the air around you.
Notice your breathing. Notice the stillness within. And enjoy it for a few moments.
I love this exercise. It reminds me that I am here, I am me, and I am alive. People tend to forget these things.
