Dancing Dust

Do you ever get that tip of your tongue experience where you are trying to recall something and it is tantalisingly close but slightly out of reach?  Do you ever experience the same sensation in other parts of your life?  Do you ever find in those very rare moments of quiet a brief thought, like a whisper in your ear, or a tickling on the back of your neck or a fleeting emotion of "What if?"

We can wander through our existence doing life and all it has to offer and occasionally think we could be doing things a little (or a lot) different.  We are dominated by Hollywood-esque ideology which portrays life as an exciting and soul changing experience or by an Eastenders-esque ideology that paints life as a dreary drama where unless we're arguing or going through trauma then we're not living.  I believe though we get thoughts of 'something more' like dust dancing in the sun light - there for a moment and then gone again.

We all get on with the daily routine and there's nothing wrong with that but I know I occasionally get caught out by feelings of doing more to enhance myself or those around me.  It doesn't need to be world changing, life changing or community changing, but I know that little differences make big differences.  Recently I have been working a lot and not taking the time to appreciate myself, my friends or my beautiful fiancé - it started to take its toll.  Being overworked and overtired meant my mind was overrun with negative, tired emotions and ultimately my depression was able to take a dark, dense grip on me.  I needed the whisper to become a shout to ensure I didn't sink.

Making little changes have made big differences.  Taking time off to recharge.  Carving out time to spend with Carmen.  Concentrating on my appearance again, i.e. new clothes and haircut.  Drinking less alcohol.  Enjoying those things that cultivate my mind, e.g. reading and writing.  All these little things make a big difference in how I process depression and counteract the triggers that lead to bad things.

It also helps me in my imagination and desire to reach the goals I know I can reach.  I believe I have a creative edge to offer and when looking after myself it can evolve into something a little bit unique.

Look after yourself and don't ignore the dancing dust in your mind as it might inspire you to reach for something you've always wanted but been too distracted to go for.

Peace.  x

The Paradox

I am pleasure, I am pain.  I am ecstasy, I am utter despair.  I am balanced, I am anarchy.  I am the journey of faith, I am the void.  I am...

We are a paradox of people who are not constrained by the Daily Mail-esque categories of 'us' and 'them'.  We are paradox of people who will hold a loved one close promising protection, care, safety and gentleness and the next day shouting rage at a driver who cuts us up.  We are a paradox of people who desire peace yet cheer at the screen when a villain dies a horrible death.  We a paradox of people who worship our football heroes one day and scream abuse at them when they fail to live to our expectations.  We are a paradox of people who post pictures of the beauty of nature on our social networks and then throw rubbish out the car window.

We are a paradox.

We live in a world bursting at the seams with the weight of people on its back.  We live in a world groaning at the burden of the waste and shit and war and depravity.

We also live in a world bursting at the seams with love, generosity and kindness.  We live in a world  laughing with joy at the sound of a baby's giggle or a puppy's woof; a grunt of satisfaction after a good meal eaten; a murmur of approval at a fine wine tasted, a satisfied burp after a naughty treat, a tear of emotion during a song we hold dear.

We are a paradox.

So, when we make a snap judgement about someone, remember that they, like you, are brimming with emotions, confounded by a week, month, year of difficulties and grappling with what it is to be a human who is a paradox.

Peace.  x

Say Something

This song by A Great Big World is beautiful and wonderfully captures the heart wrenching moment when you realise the person you are fighting for will never be a part of your life anymore.  It could be the silence or the lack of rhythm you both share.  It's a difficult and gut churning place to be in when you see the person you desire slip through your fingers like dust.  Ultimately I love this song because it captures (quite sublimely) how we are a people in a forever confusing dance of love that never ends (or begins) the way we romantically perceive.

The path of love never ran smooth.

With music, art and writing though, we can always take different meanings which relate to how we feel and are currently viewing the world and I felt a huge emotional outpouring listening to this song in relation to my (former) relationship with God.

Say something I'm giving up on you...

These lyrics instantly made me think of prayer and the depths of darkness I was entwined by and how I cried out to god to take the pain away - and how I was met with silence.  I urged god to talk to me and sooth me and heal me and comfort me and all I experienced was...

Silence

Emptiness

Darkness

Abyss

I so wished for God to be a vocal and real presence in my life - I felt I gave my everything to Him when I was His devoted follower, yet the silence was far too loud and depressing.  I prayed with vigour, read the Bible everyday and urged others to join in the journey of faith.  Yet I was finally met with a sad disillusionment and utter emptiness.  I realise now that I went through extreme grief when I came to a place of disbelief.  I grieved God and I do grieve him now.  I was passionate about Him and I fought for the person of Jesus.

I have a twin who is a passionate believer in the one they call the Christ and I know many people who believe there is a God and believe he will be there when they die, but I am left with a choice; be scared of a lack of life after death or embrace this atheism.

I embrace it because I truly believe although this may be the only life we have, it will be a good and loving and passionate and fulfilling life.

If there is a God I am sure He won't hold such feelings against me.

Peace.  x

Demons

When you feel my heat,

Look into my eyes,

It's where my demons hide,

It's where my demons hide.

Don't get too close,

It's dark inside,

It's where my demons hide,

It's where my demons hide.

Imagine Dragons.

The demons of depression don't ever go away.  They might be hiding but they never truly disappear.  The frustrating thing about clinical depression is that symptoms can maddeningly appear for 'no reason'.  Depression isn't about having a bad day or week.  Depression isn't about feeling pissed off.  Depression isn't about snapping out of it.  Depression is about battling with those demons of fear, self-loathing and darkness.  Life at the moment is really good; Carmen and I have a lovely life that we have built together; we're getting married next year, we own a house together, we're blessed to have a wonderful group of friends and are close to our family - what on earth is there to be depressed about?

Clinical depression is not about the situation.  Clinical depression is about the murky depths of the mind wanting to snatch light and life.

I'm having bad dreams every night at the moment because my mind is in a battle with my demons.  Irrational fears and past mistakes haunt my dreams making me wake in cold sweats and leaving my wanting to burst with anxiety.  It's horrible to be nervous to close your eyes at night.  It's tiring.  It's unnerving.  I am facing a journey through the valley of shadows at the moment and have to be on my guard from sinking into a state of darkness.  Melodramatic?  Try it for a week.

So, I have to be vocal about my struggles through this wonderful medium and talking openly with Carmen.  She knows there are demons lurking because she can see it in my eyes,  My eyes lose their sparkle in these times and it worries her.  I know it's a cycle.  Depressive symptoms appear to be cyclical, but it's important when the cycle starts that I do everything to counter it, such as writing, talking, eating right and (trying) to sleep well.  

The demons are floating behind my eyes but I know they're there and eventually they'll retreat.

Peace.  x  

Uncle David

In a world filled with power hungry people gorging themselves, celebrity obsessed embarrassing themselves and reality 'stars' selling their souls, there was also David.  In a society that moves at breakneck speed, where patience is a rare virtue and gentleness is strangely seen as weakness, there was also David.

David wasn't a man who chased fame, infamy or reputation; he was a man who lived simply and quietly.  We may scoff at a life of strict routine but life is messy, life can be tough and life can be unsettling, so routine can bring a constant that steadies the ship.  Even when wars tear countries apart and politicians lie and newspapers sensationalise, David still bought his pasty from the butchers or his fishcakes from The Company Shed each week.  His life of routine was a steady constant that indicated life goes on and brought a comfort in those small ways of life.

Even when David became ill he remained constant in his life so that meant his dog would always get walked and life would continue onward.  David handled his illness with a sense of dignity and irony; irony because it wasn't the cigars I remember him smoking when I was a child that made him ill but probably a result of the hard work of being employed by the council and dealing with asbestos.  And dignity because he didn't announce to the world about his illness, craving attention, but carried on with life in his simple, quiet way.  We can all learn from such an approach because I know that I can be far from dignified and desire a sense of validation from others.  David lived an old fashioned, evenly paced life and his illness didn't stop that (until the very end) and for that I am in huge admiration of my uncle.  

I would suggest that David was heroic because how many people do you know who would turn down chemotherapy because they needed to paint their house?  That was a sign of a brave, beautiful man who will be missed and always loved as a brother to Jenny, Heather and Alan, as an uncle to his nine nephews and nieces, as a cousin and as a friend and as a son to Hazel and Lou, who many believe he is with now.  Rest in Peace David.

Shakespeare or Joey Essex?

I hope we’re going to move forward as a species and this isn't the pinnacle of our existence.  There is so much we can be proud of, with wonderful talent in all walks of life.  Throughout the world we witness sporting greats, who tirelessly work to break the boundaries of physicality; there are filmmakers trying to make cinema the magical thing it once was; there are people willing to fight against the system in order to have their voices heard and regimes of oppression wiped out; average people are doing extraordinary things and it highlights the power of the human spirit.

Unfortunately though, some of the truly amazing humans out there are not the ones we read about or applaud; winning Big Brother, the X-Factor and being a dumb guy from Essex seems to gain more attention and reward.  Doing great things isn’t about gaining celebrity, but I’m afraid that we are keener to watch Joey Essex highlight how woeful our education system is than debate whether Edward Snowden did a good thing for human freedom. 

Humanity is an abundance of mind boggling achievements, from the pyramids to cathedrals, from Mozart to Eminem, from Sophocles to Shakespeare.  I would hope, in 200 years’ time, our legacy is the continued creativity of the human spirit and not ‘Necknomination’, because trying to impress a fake world of tweets and likes is a sad existence in comparison to stretching to boundaries of our mind and body.

Peace.  x  

The Tortured Soul

It seems that the most creative, explosive, dynamic and barrier breaking people are also tortured souls.  It seems that those who write, act, create music and do it with a cutting edge can, many times, be people who are plagued by a darkness that hounds them.

Philip Seymour Hoffman was a tremendous talent whose eyes alone emanated an intensity that was enchanting.  He acted with his everything - his entire self seemed consumed by the roles he played and I admired that about him.  I also admired the vulnerability he never tried to hide because why should he?

When you tap into the depths of your creativity you also bring forth a lot of dangerous things; it's part of the creative process to open yourself up.  I think about those greats of creativity out there who battle daily with mental illness, addiction and the darkness of the soul and how their works bring me to tears with their beauty and power.  I haven't written anything considered 'great' but I hope I do one day, but I also understand that it may be at the expense of a peaceful mind.  The book I am writing at the moment (which is why I haven't blogged in an age) is making me vulnerable because I am writing from the heart and from experiences that have been troubling.  In order to write with real integrity though I have to face past demons as these demons enable a freedom of expression I wouldn't otherwise have.

I'm not sure I'm a troubled soul, but I am a man who struggles with dark thoughts so I have to balance my creative bursts with the warm, stable embrace of my fiancé, family and friends because too long in the darkness makes the light harder to head for.

People may judge Philip Seymour Hoffman for his addiction but we should remember that he was a human being who struggled through life trying to be an honest, beautiful person.  The darkness took him, but he wasn't the darkness, he was a tortured soul.

Peace.  x