Friday 25 March 2011

Life sentence

What makes us relish the present? We spend so much of our lives looking forward to the next occasion / holiday / stage - is it really about merely appreciating the punctuation of life? The bracketed holidays; the semi-colonated joy of an achievement; the new paragraph that marks the beginning of a change?

On holiday recently I reflected at how much we laughed. By golly we laughed. And it felt fabulous. But why was this a remarkable point? Of course, smiles and chuckles are part of our everyday existence (well, for most of us), but real, heartfelt, uncontrollable laughter that leaves everyone with an overwhelming tendency to sigh, "Oh dear..." as the laugh collapses into minor aftershocks - that shouldn't be a special feature. It should be the main reel.

So how to make this a continuous soundtrack, instead of merely an advert break? (Just run with the continuing mixed metaphors; you'll get used to it eventually, dear reader.) I think it's simple:

   - Spend more time with friends - and the key phrase here (and in the rest of this list) is "spend... time". It's only when we stop focusing on the event and start simply being ourselves in each others' company that spontaneous fun really comes to life.
   - Spend more time in situations that make us happy. Feel guilty sitting in the sun / in front of an omnibus one Saturday afternoon? Why? Why let the Protestant work ethic make us feel obliged to be productive whenever we've got a run of more than 10 consecutive minutes?
   - Spend more time just being. Stop flooding ourselves with TV (not doing too badly on this one), or DVD box sets (quite guilty), or iPhone games (v guilty), and start interacting with our entertainment. Go to the theatre more - get physically involved in the atmosphere of a story. Exercise (it does make you feel better). Read (note to self: must get back in the habit of doing this every night). Write (trying...).

Life is here. Life is now. It's not on the next page, or even just a little bit further down from where you're reading. Write your own sentence.

Monday 21 March 2011

That's entertainment.

"Thank you for accepting our invitation."

Thank me? Surely 'tis I who should be doing the thanking, as the invitee - or is it?

Sometimes you just gotta say no. Much as it pains me, at times I have to decline social engagements. And who suffers? Me? How very limited a viewpoint that is. At university I learned that 7yrs old is when children start understanding alternative perspectives (i.e. you are sitting over there so it's logical you can see round the corner even though I can't - yes, it takes until 7 to grasp this), so even though my height hasn't progressed much since then, the anti-wrinkle cream in my bathroom belies the fact that I'm big enough to comprehend the other's point of view.

So, having established that we understand the other person may desire our attendance at event x just as much (if not more) than we do, what if we don't in fact want to go? The obvious rules apply: family occasions, close friends who'll be severely let down if we don't go (though even in the case of the latter, I'll confess to not always having adhered to convention: I skipped driving at least an hour and back a birthday celebration because I actually feared I might fall asleep at the wheel - I figured that time selfishness was the correct course of action). But what of that middle range of friends - you know, the ones whom you see in social circles but never can quite remember the name of their dog?

I've got to a stage where I take the question literally. "Can you come?" Quite possibly. "Would you like to come?" Well, now that's a different story...

Tuesday 1 March 2011

I don't believe in absolutes any more...

Sometimes the Manics just get it right. A few of their recent songs have been a bit wishy-washy (IMNSHO), but this latest opening line really hits the mark.

As we get older, do we let more grey into our lives - both literally and metaphorically? I've been watching "Mistresses" recently, and find the way I respond to the characters fascinating: I'm hardly spoiling the series when I tell you there's a lot of infidelity (the clue's in the title), and yet, I find the women endearing.

Do we judge our friends? Should we? If they do something wrong, do we stop shy of calling them on it (judge not lest ye be judged)? Or would we be better friends, in fact, if we did?

It's a mighty fine line to tread, but I'd wager the best friends are the ones who can. We should let our friends know that we accept the grey that comes with being human (after all, if we can accept theirs, they can accept ours when next we stumble. And it's never as far away as we hope.) We should show them what friendship's really about: being someone to turn to in good times and bad. And we should give them the freedom to say what we should all better echo the older and greyer we get: the Manics' next line...

"...I'm quite prepared to admit I was wrong."