You Don't Need Your Heart When You're Dead

When I was younger, the concept of organ donation freaked me out when I thought about it, which was rarely. Having been blessed in never knowing anyone that had had a transplant it was not something I'd addressed really; I'd blame youth, but I think I was just me being self absorbed.

And then recently I had to renew my drivers' licence and one of the questions asked by the online form was to please tick the box if you would like to be added to the NHS Organ Donor list. I ticked it and then I thought about it. A lot.

When my card arrived to say I had been successfully added, its accompanying letter asked me to inform my next of kin that I was a card carrier. And so this is me doing this and also sending out a plea.

I am not really sure why organ donation is not opt out to be honest rather than opt in... I don't care what religion you are, most religions - if not all - preach helping others. However, not associating with any fomal religion myself, that is not my argument. Here it is...

We live our lives giving away parts of ourselves every day, some to people who deserve it and some who do not. We give away our hearts to lovers who leave us and those who become their caretakers till the end. We throw away our thoughts and our speech carelessly every day to companies and corporations we work for, or necessarily use these solely human gifts to go about our day to day life. We burn energy from our muscles in exercise and moving about. We hear everything that passes us, without prejudice. In youth these gifts seem unlimited and we do not always choose to use them wisely, perhaps until middle age moves to old age and they falter and we realise that we would like to carefully select - as much as we can - what we utilise them for.

This leads to time, our most precious, most limited resource which we give away everyday, even though we still need it. We give it with joy to people we love and to pursuits we enjoy, we give it with reluctance to perfunctory tasks, with resignation (sometimes) to the grinds of everyday life and careers. Often we give it to the world, to people we don't know, to charities, to good causes, to those in need, to help others even if if we never see the outcome. We often lose it uncontrollably when we are angry or sad or bad. We numb it with alcohol, food, drugs and television. We wish it away, we wait for the weekend, for the summer, for Christmas. CANNOT WAIT TO SEE YOU. When we examine our lives we muse on how to give our time better, to be of more value.

All of this is human and it's wonderful and it's part of what it is to have a human life. But tell me this, why, if you are happy - for the most part - to give away all these things when you still have need of them, are you reluctant to give away your bodily organs etc when you have not?

I hope as everyone does that I do not die young, but if I do, I would like my body to be a free for all for anyone who needs it. Take anything you want. I believe they are unlikely to want my lungs as I have smoked for ten years and even though I am going to give up this year, I still think they are unlikely to be transplant worthy. Other than this I would like to give everything away with no conditions. Obviously I would prefer if they went to "worthy" people, but if my liver is given to an alcoholic (tbf that might be pretty ropey too ;), or my kidneys to an ex-con then that is the way things go. Maybe they will take it and it might make their life so much better and the rest of me can be burnt and spread around the globe.

To be honest, I would just like to finish on you ALL signing up to the organ donation website.... PLEASE

....

The Art of Wasting Time

Dolce Far Niente - John William Waterhouse

I have often thought myself to be a Jack-of-all-Trades, the silent "Master of None", always quite audible to my mind. I was an all rounder at school (except sports which I forgoed as soon as I realised that my lack of co-ordination, read concentration, meant that I would have to work extra hard to be just average.

Since leaving University I have walked through my professional career believing that I am decent at most things I try my hand to, but not especially exceptional at anything. I have since realised that this is perhaps an ingrained mental belief in “not being good enough” that finds safety in hippity hopping between skills and completing them with passable ability rather than stepping out of the safe box and owning brilliance in something or other.

It is a classic trait of insecurity and something I am now trying to rectify. In leaving a traditional, full time, salaried job, I am having to learn to fight against all these learnt instincts. My life and career is now what I make of it and I need to believe I am the best person to do X, Y, Z.

This is especially true in the novel and play that I am writing. For the best friends of Jack-of-all-Trades are Unfinished Projects, Procrastination and the skill of Wasting Time.

The amount of times I have said I wanted to do something whether that be enter a particular writing competition, join a rowing club, a drama club, do the three peaks challenge etc and not completed it are innumerable. Sometimes it has taken me three hours to make a phone call to, for example, the dentist to make an appointment. My talent in time wasting is exemplary.

Gone West... Life is Peaceful Here

I'm currently in Cornwall. On my own. I'm still working for clients. And I'm trying to write. Trying really hard. The beauty of being freelance is that I can work from anywhere really, as long as there is a good WiFi connection and power. I can go anywhere.

So I decided to trundle off to Cornwall because I am lucky enough to be able to stay here free.. And it is beautiful. I am situated in a tiny village called Kingsand which is on the Cornwall / Devon border of the South West Coast path. I can walk for miles and miles with beautiful views over the coast and cliffs. I have already seen at least thirty butterflies since I have been here.

It's kind of my safe place. My place of firsts too, I've been coming here for 22 years. I saw my first brawl outside a pub, I also saw a stripper here when I was about ten; it was someones birthday in a pub and I stood on an outside table to see what was going on. I think I first got really drunk here when I was 15 too.

Shamed by Clutter

Even the word clutter makes me shiver with anxiety. Its onomatopoeic potency - at least to me - is such that I imagine myself being buried alive by piles of paperwork, old fancy dress costumes and chargers for unknown phones or laptops that I am just too scared to throw away.

The thing is - as you may realise - I actually don't like clutter, but for some reason in the last three years I have let the stuff accumulate. And in the last few months before I quit my job, it was so bad there were just some drawers I wouldn't dare open.

This past week, I have been spending a lot of "freelance time" sorting, throwing away, tidying, cleaning. I have discovered a cacophony of obscure objects that bring back memories, but crowd my space. Three Union Jack flags from the Jubilee, two fancy dress soldiers' hats, three sets of Christmas lights, mail belonging to housemates that lived with me three years ago, health drinks that went off in 2013. Parking tickets and solitary placemats, candles with no wick and calendars well past their dates. Numerous bits of electricals and nails and scraps of paper, crusty nail varnishes, men's scarves, a book on the Karma Sutra that I definitely didn't buy...

The thing is, I'm trying to clear my head - to clear my vision. Working from home and trying to write a novel as well as searching for commercial work, I need an inspiring environment. And all this chattering clutter is not helping. Objects remind you of times gone by, of feelings gone by, they shame me with the person I have been sometimes. I don't need them here... haunting me, taunting me. I'm detoxing my life... and most of it has got to go.

So that's why I haven't written for a while... I've been in the midst of clutter Cold Turkey and it's killed my voice for a bit. But I feel it's back, stronger and more sure of itself now. 12 steps of freedom.

xx

Ok, I'm Ready...

I think I'm ready now, finally. I have never really been before, but I think I am now because I know what I want and what I don't want. I've made those distinctions.

I've spend time having loveless flirtation and sensual (and not so sensual encounters). I've dated and dismissed many a man (and boy). I've had a few short "relationships". Mostly I've been afraid of it, to be honest, afraid of what somebody else would do to me. 

Maybe it's because I wasn't really sure about myself, whether I like myself all that much, whether I was who I was meant to be. The thought of blind and internet (sorry app- what is this the 00s) dating just sent me into a spin of fear and insecurity that they might reflect back at me the flaws I had already outlined in myself.

I was never one of those people who dated to fill a hole or to feel more secure and steady in a situation, because for me, putting yourself into that vulnerable position of being half of two rather than half of one was not something that settled me. In fact it sent me careering off into outer space, heart thumping head-spinning, ecstatic then anxious, crying with laughter, then just crying. I didn't want this. I wanted a steady ground.

I am ready now, because I've realised what I want and that steadiness often comes from within. I'm ready now because I am happier with who I am.

So if you know anyone...

Kind but not weak. Compassionate, likes animals and nature. Reads, please. Interested in all ideas even if they don't agree with them. Doesn't talk over people who are quieter than them. Respect's people of all ages, sexes, colours, nationalities, backgrounds, creeds, educated or not. Realises we are all the same, WE ARE ALL THE SAME. Can take (and make) a joke. Does not practice bitterness. Loves to laugh, to make others laugh, the moment of laughter. Wants fun in life. Responsible, but not anal. Understands me, lets me be me, even if that is odd. Intelligent, not necessarily academically or bookish, but bright, sparky, interested. Likes talking and listening. Likes long conversations about the world and what it means... but can tug me in and make me feel safe too if I drift off into the stratosphere. Healthy attitude towards mind, body and soul. Appreciates and indulges in the sensual pleasures of life, but does not gorge on them. Smiles at people even if it makes them look stupid. Tactile. Reassuring. Shares their problems. Lets me look after them sometimes. Not scared of their feelings. Quiet, but also loud. Trustworthy and trusting. Has passions and interests. Would be a good father. I want to find him beautiful, but that doesn't mean anyone else needs to. Makes my friends smile and feel warm inside. Interested in my family. Open-minded. Likes the sea and the mountains and travelling. As flawed as humans are. Never thinks he knows it all.

Do you know anyone like that? I don't yet and this list may seem unrealisitc. But I have no stipulations for money or looks or background or anything else. None of that, just these things.

I'm just putting that out there.

#The100DayProject, #100DaysofWriting, #Day12.

Confirmation Bias Against Yourself?

I was reading the other day about a tendency in law, politics and science to "search for, interpret, or recall information in a way that confirms one's beliefs or hypotheses." It is called "Confirmation Bias, or Myside Bias" and it can be very damaging in legal cases and international decisions. Science Daily outlines how "decision makers have been shown to actively seek out and assign more weight to evidence that confirms their hypothesis, and ignore or underweigh evidence that could disconfirm their hypothesis."2

But what if we also do this to ourselves, how damaging can that be? 

I am talking about this in reference to people who are apt to self-criticism, depression, jealousy and insecurity, not to those - who in the opposite way- may seem to have overinflated egos. 

For, if we already walk about this earth with a certain set of beliefs, surely there is a propensity to reconfirm these to ourselves daily, every time something happens or someone speaks to us. And might this mean we become our own jailers.

Kindness, Growth and a Grateful Heart

The 100 Day Project, Day 3 of 100 Days of Writing... Today, I am writing in response to Laura Jane Williams’ Ask the Question project, which I subscribe to. Laura is the brilliant blogger of Superlatively Rude and all-round fabulous human being and today after regaling a personal anecdote she asked the question: Who do you need to look at with different eyes, just for a moment? What would it do for you to admit that maybe it’s YOU who has been unkind? 

Kindness, Growth and a Grateful Heart

I used to be a different type of person you see, a very different type of person and the journey from who I was to who I am now has taken several years, a lot of self assessment and reading hundreds of books. As a teenager and young adult, I was quite an angry, little (secretly introverted, but outwardly brash) hot mess. I was not very confident at all from adolescence, but I defended and concealed this with cynicism, sarcasm and often a hate of, or superiority towards those who may have (unintentionally) inflamed my numerous insecurities.

Basically, I liked to blame other people for stuff. Either they were a bitch or a dick or too stupid to understand or they made me feel like this or like that. It wasn’t that I didn’t blame myself for my shortcomings, oh I certainly did that in crippling detail... but I found that criticism of others came easily too. I never felt comfortable with it, not really, but somehow if others were also at fault, it felt easier to deal with my own self-assassination.

Now because this post is not meant to be a whining tale of my angsty years... I will move straight on to what I have learnt that has changed both how I look at others and myself. First though, it is pertinent to say that it did not make me happy AT ALL. The more that I criticised or looked down at others, the more imperfection I found in myself... far from ignoring the plank in my own eye, I built it with the sawdust that I saw in everybody else’s until it was disproportionately huge. And I came to the point where I wondered why I spent so much time comparing myself to others or reacting to them so strongly. 

The two words that changed everything, Kindness and Growth (some may use lesson or education but I feel growth is more positive). Simply put, to move forward and to get somewhere with our lives, hopes, dreams, relationships etc etc, we need to treat ourselves with kindness and grace. We need to accept our weaknesses, nurture them into positives and not berate ourselves constantly. In turn, once we accept our own faults, we are also more able to look kindly upon others; we can see their whole selves and not just the parts of them that seem to provoke vehement, emotional reactions in us.

The second point is growth, because once we are kind enough to our self and to others, we are able to look objectively our flaws and theirs, we can accept that perhaps they are there to teach us something and can try and work out what that is. For example, I have always loved a glass of wine, but in more emotional times of my life, I have often drunk too much to drown out thoughts or to try and enjoy myself in a situation I am uncomfortable in. I used to berate my excess and lack of control, now I have learnt that if I feel uncomfortable, I need to face that situation if it is important, or remove myself from it if it is only damaging.  It is the same with other people’s flaws; I have felt irritated at colleagues by the way that they have done things, which in turn made me frustrated. Only after careful thought did I realise that perhaps I was just uncomfortable in the work I was doing, my irritation at their personality was simply an extension of how I was feeling trapped in a situation.

I don’t know if I have explained this concisely at all, in fact it is probably far too verbose and I don’t claim to not find other people irksome at all, ever, far from it. It’s not a cure this way of thinking, but a practice for living that enables you to take a step back and regroup when you need to. When I find myself reacting to anyone or criticising myself now, I stop and think be kind, learn and grow and always have a grateful heart. I also try to think about where that other person is coming from in order to respond if necessary in the calmest, truest way. If you do these things you are never far from the soul of your true self and generally - I have found - the happier you will be.

*Thanks to Laura for provoking this piece... you’re aces...