Mother

My Mother passed away in April 2007 at the time I felt nothing. Even now I feel little emotion and am unaware of pain. Yet somehow it is occuring to me of late that she was the most remarkable woman that ever lived. Maybe I never knew my Mother. She never showed me the physical affection that I often craved. On at least one occasion she repeatedly told me I wasn't coming home when I was screaming in desperation. I don't know what it was all about.

I sometimes wonder if I ever really knew my Mother. How much was there trapped within her that I never saw? How well did my Father know her? For much of her life she lived to help and support my Father. In the final years as she became weaker and more confused the roles were reversed. My Father was her sole carer in her final times and probably the best she could have had. If my Father could have total, unrestricted control over someone or something he was amazing. Could this possibly be a form of divine justice? My mother was not too dissimilar to a child at the end. I remember as a small child my Father playing with me as a child with my Mother in the background.

My Mother started to be a care worker in when I became partially independant at 10 or 11.. At the time they were called Mentally Subnormal or Mentally Retarded. Mentally Handicapped was an advanced term . They did ,however,, clap with applause when she started a shift. She also wrote a novel that I never saw and poetry on pieces of scrap paper. It was very depressing and often got screwed up shortly afterwards. When I did my English degree I bought a copy of James Joyce's Ulysses, I didn't understand a word of it. She never had an education in any formal sense but was able to explain it all to me. When she was young she ran a book shop.

My Mother had a love of Opera and had Maddame Butterfly and La boheme and others on vinyl. I never really understood Opera it was often sung in Italian for a start. When I was about 12 I first heard her Operatic type voice. It had been dormant for many years and remained so afterwards.

When I went shopping with her she would talk to many people even those who didn't seem keen. Easily upset I would have walked off at the slightest snub - she persevered. When I went out with her she would always introduce me.'this is my son.' As a teenager I would resent it. As an adult I appreciated it. In her final years it was 'my Son - a Psychiatric Nurse in Cambridge' until Psychiatric Nurse and Cambridge became meaningless concepts too her.

She would stumble and fall and it became more frequent. Eventually it was just to the front gate where she would wave at passers by. After this she was restricted to the fall walls of the bungalow. Even then she seemed perfectly happy.

She told me that as a child she was frightened of the Lord's prayer the words 'forever and ever' scared her.

Perhaps I never really knew my Mother. Perhaps I might in the hereafter?

Thoughts On Cycling

As a child of maybe10 or11 I have distinct recollections of doing wheelies down a 2 mile bendy hill near Bristol Airport. In recent years, however, I have had fears of even getting on a bike. What changed in between? Well part of it is simply getting older. More experience leads to more worries about things going wrong. At 10 or 11 I was fearless about the possibility of breaks failing at a crucial point or about colliding with a quiet unseen car. At 44 I worry even about cycling across a road if I think there is any semblance of danger.

Another central factor is in between events. At 15 on a quiet, straight stretch of road on a Sunday afternoon. I tested the new speedometer on my mountain bike. I thought to myself a crash is extremely unlikely. I gave no thought to two dogs shooting out right in front of me from behind a wall. There was no warning whatsoever. Breaking my collar bone was a seminal experience as was being bruised all over, my bike together with speedometer was a right off and I had little sympathy for the whines of the dog.

Aged 38 was a second experience. This one took place at 6.50am on a dark January morning. Going around a roundabout on the way to work the driver said he didn't see my front light which was working but a bit dim. The next thing I knew was my head hitting the tarmac at the opposite side if the car and the helmet breaking into three pieces. I must have gone over the bonnet and was extremely fortunate to be free of pain. Without headgear I could be dead!

This week I have made a fresh commitment to cycle but no more wheelies down bendy hills. Not for the present time anyway!

Popularity is a strange thing. Often its coming and going are chance issues of saying the right thing or being in the right place at the right time. Overnight practically everyone can love you, defer to you and pull out the red carpet and it can be lost equally easily. Even if our personal respect can last a lifetime it is still a relatively short time. Respect and trust are much harder things to gain or earn and a close friend even harder. But true friends are those that remain long after it has gone from fashion and remain to love the real you, and with whom you can totally relax, as opposed to a finely honed image. One of those and you are fortunate, severel is extra special and far more important than fleeting fame and fortune.

Under the surface

I have learnt in life that things are not always what they appear on the surface. People who at seem dumb and stupid can suddenly, unexpectedly, reveal insights. My mate at University Laurence was a case in point. Because he spoke little people superficially assumed he knew little. But when he finally entered into conversations he proved to be pertinant, insightful revealing hidden depths of learning and experience. What, at first may appear unstimulating and dull can infact be an oasis of growth and stimulation.

Guitar

A few days ago I bought a new guitar.The neck broke on my former very cheap one. I am not a brilliant musician but use it to express myself, to write songs. My real gifting is with words and music, in my scheme of things, is a back up to my words. I like the guitar it is portable, versatile and not intrusive.

Birthday present to myself

My birthday has been a fairly quiet one - no drum rolls, no cresendos of excitement, no all night parties (even the cream cake and two kisses I got were on the other side of the Internet screen) .......and I only permitted one present from myself. Even this was something of an accident. It was a CD I ordered last week at Fopp Independent records and I was informed of its arrival yesterday and it so happened that I was passing by there today. So even its inclusion on this special day was not a planned occurance.

The band themselves, The Imagined Village, caught my interest by seeming chance. I seem to recall feeling a little bored a couple of months ago and whilst changing channels a band performing on BBC4 caught my attention. The purpose was apparently to get to the heart of the English folk tradition free from all sanitised versions. There was Martin and Eliza Carthy, folk doyons, the kind of people I respect rather than actually listen to purposefully, Billy Bragg, whose vocal delivery slightly irritates me, Paul Weller with whom his work with the Style Council is my favourite period, Benjamin Zephaniah, who is best known to me for his, witty, articulate, contemporary version of Rudyard Kipling's 'If'. But there is something about this combination that really appeals. So you've listened to and digested it I hear you assuming. Well actually...I did mentorship training today, saw some friends earlier this evening, thanked people for their birthday well wishing and am currently writing my blog.

Get a life I hear you say!

poem

This is a poem that I wrote just over a year ago.

Every Moment

Every moment has meaning, every second potential,
No sentence we utter is inconsequential,
We can choose our reaction to every event,
We are free to decide how each minute is spent,
We can embrace awe and wonder at every turn,
As a challenge to grow, to listen and learn,
Every person a haven of untapped fruition,
To the world's equation they're a valued addition.

Everyone has a vantage-point, all have their story,
Every soul yet conceived has their moment of glory,
Every birth it heralds a coming uniqueness,
That is ripened by love, dispels heartache and bleakness,
Small acts of kindness, however fleeting,
Bring hope to our lives, give purpose and drive,
A smile, a wave, an open door, a greeting,
Is food for our soul, helps our spirit survive.

Life is a gift to be treasured each day,
Each precious moment it comes only once,
Possibilities come in a massive array,
Eternity made in each chosen response,
We determine our destiny in the way we react,
We get what we give in the end - its a fact,
As our script is complete and death does descend,
Every chapter and twist will conclude at its end.

Patience

There was a postcard in friends house of a long time ago that contained the words 'Lord give me patience but hurry'. That fairly well describes my past and present state. The old adage 'all good things come to those who wait' is not completely adequate in my opinion but has a grain of truth to it. However, the words of a Queen song penned by Freddie Mercury 'I want it all and I want it now' are precariously close to the way I sometimes am. The lesson that I am trying to learn on the basis of past experience is that by showing impatience and trying to rush things along can only prolong them still further. Humility and patience can speed up the process.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a beautiful thing. Forgiving others can be extremely difficult and forgiving ourselves
even harder. Alot of people hold anger out of a desire to punish the person who has wronged them but for the most part the person is totally unaware of what they have done and go blindly on in blissful ignorance. Unforgiveness just churns the hurt person up and uses up countless energy that could be used for productive activity. The other factor is that churned up and hurting people tend not to be that popular because nobody wants to be around a churned up and hurting person.

Deceptions

I have learnt that things arn't always as they appear. It is so easy to draw conclusions on matters based on limited information. On Tuesday I felt dejected and low about something in my life but today I feel upbeat and positive about the same thing even though there were no major changes taking place in how people are. Emotions have a place but have a tendency go up and down. Facts never change and there is so much to be thankful for. Once I get over the guilt of not always being busy and rushing to and fro. There is the beauty of being silent and still for a short while. More can be achieved by 5 minutes of stillness than a whole week of rushing. That is the road less travelled but it is truly a wonderous and picturesque road Truth never changes and truth is precious.

Hi there. I would like to introduce a subject that is of vast importance to me which is my spiritual beliefs. I could and should use the term, Christian to describe them but experience has shown me that even the introduction of this word can cause some people either to switch off completely or to partially do so. One chap once asked me what type of Christian I was a methodist, baptist, anglican or catholic maybe? When I told him that I wasn't any of these I just had faith in God he appeared distinctly worried. The truth is that I have friends in all of these denominations and I myself have visited anglican, baptist and methodist churches before. I suppose I could say that I attend an international group of churches called New Frontiers, which are fairly lively and whose 'brand' of Christianity is closest to what I believe. But my real allegiance is to the person of Jesus Christ. The picture I have chosen is a relatively recent one (a few months old) of a small midweek group I attend which we sometimes refer to as a Growth Group (although the group has since got bigger and divided). I have known virtually all these people for at least many months and they are a normal, pleasant bunch. I would hope that people would find me normal and pleasant too!!!

This morning I woke up and fairly soon a poem came to me which I called Silence.

Silence

We avoid it as much as we can
Almost as we avoid thinking
Today it is increasingly rare
As noise in its various forms
Drown out thoughts and imagination.

Silence is neutral
It fails to push us in any direction
But doesn't distract from the truth.
It can lead us close to ourselves,
It can rekindle long lost memories.

Hi there, this is me with part of my family last Christmas. I am in the centre in the back. I am hoping to see them in to see them in the New Year. There are lots of babies. I am a great uncle in fact, a very young great uncle but one nonetheless.

It is a Sunday afternoon and I am in a reflective mood.

Thoughts for another day

This is a photo of me taken last Christmas with my family. I only have a small family but they are important to me.

Today I had my mate Kenton around helping with my computer. It has been an horrendous computer in many ways it has gone wrong so much. But it has taught me things about computers that I wouldn't otherwise know.

I felt really shattered tonight so after some Christmas present wrapping (yes already) it is to my blog and then eventually .....to bed.

My Journey

My name is Jeremy and I am just starting a blog. I am very fond of communication, enjoy reading, love writing and am very interested in people. I also have a passion to travel. (The photo is taken from a recent trip to Cyprus) My aim is to try and live life to the full and fulfill my potential.

I know the title of the blog 'My Journey' sounds very cliched. But I suppose I have to start somewhere and I hope that my individuality develops as time progresses. Today I have done quite a lot of reading inc. Chekhov, Raymond Carver and JI Packer, the first two are very interrelated as Carver admitted owing a great debt to Chekhov. I was introduced to Carver as a short story writer at University and greatly admired his ability to provoke thought using an economy of words. He had a great ability with a turn of phrase to create a response in the reader as well as a good grasp of common speech patterns. I am aware that I might be sounding pretentious here so I won't follow this particular train of thought any further at the present time.