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 A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
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Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end. So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.     |
| Fear of Heights A very wise and intelligent woman once told me that she was not afraid of heights. She added that she was not even bothered about falling off them. What worried her, she maintained, was that she did not think she would handle the landing particularly well. I have thought about this for many years and have decided that, in contrast to my wife (for that is whom I have been speaking of), I really am scared of heights. This has nothing to do with falling off them or even landing after that event. I am fully aware of the wonderful views that can be obtained by standing on precarious heights but this has no bearing on my feelings regarding them. The plain fact is that I'm scared of heights because I'm scared of heights. It's really that simple and has nothing to do with some event in early life that gave me good reason to be so scared. There have been scary moments involving heights, it's true, but I can remember that I was already scared of heights before those events. I never climbed trees as a kid - there seemed no valid reason to put myself through so frightening an experience. When invited by some daredevil friend to risk life and limb by scaling some edifice for no apparent reason, I always declined to accept his kind offer. My feet are only happy when firmly in contact with the ground, as I have proved in the occasional airline flights I have endured. I am a man of the earth, a creature of solid ground, a hobbit indeed. Understand how freeing is this revelation that has come to me so late in life. I am no longer bound to feel diminished by my fear of heights, I have no need to rationalize it or give feeble excuses, there is no law that insists I give a reason for my unreasoning fear. I am scared of heights because I am scared of heights. Deal with it. Word count: 336 |
| Little Thoughts It seems I have entered my minimalist phase. Having finished my daily offering of a poem for Express It In Eight, I decided to bash out a few reviews. This took me to Read & Review but, before I could find anything that demanded my review, I was waylaid by a photograph of a very large sunflower. Being as contrary as I am, my mind immediately transported me to those tiny flowers one sees sometimes in the undergrowth or on a background of moss in shadowed areas. I was moved to write a poem to one such humble and diffident creature. This turned out to be a very small poem to a tiny aspect of nature and I chose the font accordingly (thereby making a sarcastic comment on all shape poems but I doubt anyone will notice that). It was in placing the poem in my folder for Poetry 2021, that I noticed that I appeared to be following a theme. The last poem before this one happens to be entitled Dwarf Planet. Clearly, I have discovered a penchant for the very small.
Word count: 181 |
| Chicken Thoughts Chicken is to us what the rabbit is to predators. It’s a staple food that no one dreams of trashing. The nannies of the world rail against every other form of meat but none dare touch the chicken. It’s so innocuous that we can even fry it and everyone is happy. No wonder no one wants to be a chicken. Word count: 60 |
| Thought for Another Day The problem with the brain is that it has a mind of its own. |
| Thought for the Day There's no money in prose. And even less in poetry. |
| Good manners may cost nothing but they are, nevertheless, quite valuable. |
| Pretty in Porcelain Nine days without a post. See what thoughtlessness can do? Anyway, there is this: The problem of reading "pottery" whenever "poetry" is mentioned is getting worse. Only this morning I was reading down the list and came to The Humorous Pottery Contest. What the heck does humorous pottery look like? |
| If all the world's a stage, when is it leaving? Hey, it's ten words again! |
| The thing about blogging is, where does it all end? Oh good grief, no word count for this one, please! |
| Confrontation and All That Years ago (in my thirties) I had very good friends in a couple who shared many of my interests. We spent many happy hours talking of everything under the sun and getting to know each other. And then, one day, the lady of the couple and I ran into a subject on which we both held strong but opposite opinions. I had become accustomed to pretty robust argument in my late school and college days and I piled into this one in my usual fashion. Basically, I destroyed her arguments and revealed her thinking to be seriously flawed. And that, as far as I was concerned, was that. It was an abstract concept that required seriously logical thought to unravel and I saw the incident as doing the lady a favour. I had spoken up for the truth and she could now share in the glory of it. Oh, arrogant little twerp that I was. About a week later I heard, through another friend, that the lady was quite cut up about the whole thing. It turned out that she had taken it as a personal attack on herself, whereas to me, it was merely a bit of mental sparring to achieve a mutually satisfactory resolution. I had been trained to separate my beliefs and opinions from the person I was, to see that we are not what we think but how we behave. Suddenly I understood how my devastating attack on this single belief of hers was perceived as a personal affront, seemingly ridiculing her rather than the abstract idea we were talking about. I went round to the couple’s house immediately and apologised for my boorish behaviour, promising that I would never again attack someone else’s beliefs in so vicious a manner. And as far as I can remember, I have stuck to that promise with everyone I come into contact with. You can try as hard as you like to get me to talk about my political and/or religious beliefs and I will avoid confrontation. No matter how strongly I feel that I am right about something, I do not have the right to judge someone who believes otherwise. We can talk about things, yes, but the moment it starts getting heated, I will back off. It’s really not worth the aggravation. Years later, a very good friend of mine summed up the matter in a statement that amuses me still. When confronted by mounting dissension and argument, he would defuse it by saying this: “Very well, you go your way. And I’ll go God’s.” Word count: 431 |
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