A A Gill has provided the literature, Beethoven the music and that wonderful place Kerala the culinaria. On an uneven day it is good that I have the mechanisms to switch off from whatever a sometimes hostile world throws at me.
The great anxiety of yesterday disappeared as suddenly as it came despite a dream addled night. The thaw is underway although my walk to a meeting in town was precarious. So far so good. Then back at the ranch more things to make me feel an inadequate failure. I get that things can be tense when we are all under pressure but the way in which things are sometimes communicated does not always help.
But that part of the day is over. We drift ever closer to the end of a long term. My lovely friend Ros has been messaging me today which I always like but is feeling despondent. My thoughts are with you Ros and enjoy the wine when you get there tomorrow.
My recent forays into A A Gill have been both delightful and humbling. Did ever a man write so passionately of the savagery and love of both humanity and nature? Accosted as I was by people today on my way to lunch almost demanding I give to their cause which they yelled in an accusatory way was "refugees". Gill's writing on the subject humbles and shames me. That might stimulate me more to act rather than a hostile, salesman approach I witnessed today.
That I live is such a peaceful place where I can buy and read books, listen to Beethoven and cook the food of others is testament to how lucky we are here in the UK. Many will never get that chance. But we cannot let culture die. It makes us better people.
So on this December night with the rain coming down think of that. We are lucky, very lucky. I need to recall that better on the dark days when I feel so attacked. Mental illness has not always bequeathed me the greatest suit of armour but it has given me the ability to at least try to help my fellow people. And sometimes I get it very right. And sometimes very wrong. I am thus flawed.
More soon.
I Heard a Voice.
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