Pucker up!

This sign recently appeared at a Warrington station. Civic leaders say kissing there "causes car park congestion".

Spoil sports! We need more love and affection in this world, not less, and I say smooching is worth a bit of a wait.

So wherever you are, strike a blow for the freedom of Warrington lovers. Go on: pucker up today!


Flow x

Imbolc is my favourite festival - a real celebration of optimism!

For those of you who don't know, Imbolc is a traditional Celtic festival, marking the beginning of spring. In our village, people celebrate with a fantastic fire show, with fire-swingers and other performers, including singers, drummers and dark Foxes who dance with fire. And at the climax of the spectacle, the Green Man battles Jack Frost - and always wins! - so that spring can arrive.

But since Imbolc is traditionally held at the beginning of February, spring is usually still a long way off. This year, snow began to fall here on the first of February, and by the night of the fire festival, it lay thick on the ground. I love the way everyone carries on and celebrates the arrival of spring, whatever the weather! The fireworks and performance are symbolic: there's light shining bright despite the dark, there's celebration and fun at a time of year that's generally pretty miserable, and there's promise of much better times to come.

Flow x

A year in 40 seconds

It's almost the end of January, and I haven't posted on this blog for nearly three weeks. I hope you haven't missed me too much!

The weeks have whizzed by. Whatever your age, you will probably have noticed that time seems to pass faster and faster each year. I have always believed that's because we experience the passing days as a proportion of our lives so far: when you are four, a year is a quarter of your life; but when you are forty, it is only a fortieth.

Oops!

I was just about to wax all philosophical - or maybe even scientifical - about perceptions of time, but I caught myself before I began to waffle too much! The bottom line is, time is unpredictable: it depends on us, our moods and the people we spend it with ... in weird ways. Certain places seem to have their own time zones, too: time generally seems to move faster in bed, for instance; and classrooms and hospital waiting rooms are often Go Slow Zones.

We have all experienced an hour that has felt like a lifetime, and a year that has passed in about 40 seconds - like this video.

Did you know that Steven Hawkins says this, in his book A Brief History of Time:

"Disorder increases with time because we measure time
in the direction in which disorder increases."

Which seems to suggest that, if only we expected less chaos, time might move backwards! Perhaps we should try it? A sort of og-og with the flow?!

Flow x

Will YOU buy a ticket for the Atheist Bus Campaign?

Before I start (while we're all still waiting at the bus stop, so to speak) I have a small apology for those of you who believe in God. I don't want to offend you, and I'm pretty sure that if you read all the way to the end of this post you'll agree that I haven't, but you may start out feeling a little uncomfortable. So I'm sorry.

Have you heard about the Atheist Bus Campaign that is currently running in the UK? Funded by donations from the public - all across the country, from London to Leeds and Aberdeen to Exeter - buses are appearing with posters on their sides which read:

"There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life."

Now, I don't want to start a debate about whether or not God exists. I wouldn't like to say one way or the other. I question everything, and I tend to keep on questioning, even after I think I have the answers; I long ago stopped believing in 'objective truth', because over the years, I have come to realise that even cast-iron facts have a habit of changing when you look at them long enough, or sideways. So when it come to The God Question, to paraphrase Eva Bowring, a US Senator in the 50s (and thanks to Karen K for the original quotation!) - "I'm going to sit on the fence, until I find where the gates are".

No, what particularly appeals about this campaign isn't its atheism.

Of course the general encouragement to "stop worrying and enjoy your life" is nice. It's kind, comforting and pretty good advice, too - whether you have a religious faith or not. And that little word 'probably' is rather special: it's modest, unassuming and slightly self-deprecating... there's something quintessentially English about it, don't you think?

It's clever, too: with that single word, the campaign creators have headed off any possible charge of hypocritical dogmatism. No-one can accuse this particular bunch of atheists of an ideological fanaticism that's just like the religious fundamentalists - which is a criticism often leveled at outspoken atheists like Richard Dawkins.

There is 'probably' no God, say these people - just probably - we're not ruling it out.

In fact, the whole ad is rather polite, in a slightly old-fashioned way that is the antithesis of the brash, in-yer-face media messages that usually surround us. If you have a faith, this campaign does not seek to undermine it - though I'm sure it does hope you'll examine it.

But best of all, I like this campaign because it isn't trying to sell me anything or make me do anything. And how rare is that, eh?! Every other poster you have ever seen on the side of a bus has been trying to get you to watch a movie, buy a game, change your phone, taste a new chocolate, swig a different kind of fizz, or some-such ... But this one just invites us to live.

Yes, LIVE! Now there's a thought!

In fact, I'd say the Atheist Bus Campaign has a strong Zen flavour to it. With its emphasis on living rather than angsting and its laissez-faire enthusiasm, its slogan fits very comfortably alongside Zen proverbs like these:

"If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." (Unsourced)

"When hungry eat, when tired sleep." (Po Chang )

"If the problem has a solution, worrying is pointless, in the end the problem will be solved. If the problem has no solution, there is no reason to worry, because it can't be solved." (Unsourced)

"Knock on the sky and listen to the sound." (Unsourced)

So I like the Atheist Bus Campaign - and when I call "All Aboard!" I hope you buy a ticket too. If you do have a religious faith, I ask you to forgive it its hubristic opinions, please. You may not agree with their ideas, but surely you can rejoice in their enthusiasm?!

And you can have the final satisfaction of knowing that the word 'enthusiastic' is derived from Greek, and means "possessed by god"!

Flow x

P.S. And to prove that I'm not a dogmatist either ... if you'd like to read a Guardian opinion piece that disagrees with almost every word I've said, just click here!

Little steps to a better world

(Inspirational Quotes - Help Yourself, Help Others - SelfHelp Collective)

I came across a great quotation today:

"Don't spend your precious time asking 'Why isn't the world a better place?' It will only be time wasted. The question to ask is 'How can I make it better?' To that there is an answer".
(Leo Buscaglia)

(And thanks to Steve, for sending me the link to his new YouTube videos of Inspirational Quotes, which is where I found it).

There are probably lots of answers, in fact. And it seems to me that we don't need to worry about finding the 'right' one: all sorts of positive actions, even tiny little steps, can make the world a better place. If you're a problem-solver - an instinctive Mr or Ms Fix-It like me - then it can be hard to remember that, if you can't see the grand solution, small improvements are still worth making. 'Better' is a relative term, after all.

Flow x

Hold the front page: I want some good news for a change!

I'm not superstitious, but when I opened my door at midday, I couldn't help feeling that the universe was trying to tell me something ...

Outside, the world was entirely monotone: snow fell last night, and the sun didn't make it out from behind the clouds today, so black trees were silhouetted against the white sky, and the hills were stretched out like a depressive harlequin in a suit of mottled greys. It was not inspiring.

Then - as the clock struck twelve, suddenly, simultaneously - a laggardly cockrel crowed, three dark crows circled the house opposite, and a single magpie hopped onto its roof. Omens, all. So were they warnings of misfortune? Probably.

Sometimes it feels like a bad, mad world out there.

*

I watched the news last night. That's something I try to avoid, because it's generally so miserable, and I believe it's bad for one's mental health to be constantly exposed to so much gloom. As far as I'm concerned, when it comes to the mainstream media, no news is good news.

But I watched, and I read, so now I know all sorts of grim facts about the current conflict in Gaza. The whole Gaza strip is only about 25 miles long and 5-10 miles wide, and its borders are closed and guarded, so that there is nowhere for its 1.5 million inhabitants to run to. They are sitting ducks, and almost every one of them is an innocent victim of Israel's bombardment. As of today, there are 660 dead Palestinians and 10 dead Israelis. It's tragic for everyone.

And there is absolutely nothing I can do to about it.

In the olden days when all news was local and carried by word of mouth, you could respond to bad news by doing something to help. When the only misfortune you heard about was your neighbour's, you could (as a wise friend observed) at least take round a bowl of soup. These days, the news channels tell us about global catastrophes that are entirely beyond our control, and it reinforces our sense of powerlessness. If I were a cynic, I might suggest that they do it deliberately, to create the impression that bad news is universal and unavoidable, and to make us less likely to rise up in protest and try to change the world.

Of course, we do need to know about the bad stuff, at least some of it. Oppressive regimes use reporting black-outs to hide their murderous deeds. It's no co-incidence that the BBC is banned from some countries, including Myanmar and Zimbabwe, whose government has proscribed it as a terrorist organisation. So, no, I'm not advocating that we ignore the bad news - but I would like more positive news in the mainstream, rather than hidden away in the sidelines as it is now. It seems good news is not news.

I'll bet there is more good stuff than bad stuff going on in the world - but how could we ever know?

*

Back in my own little world, I laughed at the Portents of Doom, worried for a moment about my sanity, and then on a whim called two friends whom I thought would understand and enjoy the anecdote. One of these friends has been very ill recently. The other, his partner, answered the 'phone ... and told me - hooray! - that the doctors think his cancer has gone.

The wonderful news made my day, tho' it won't make it to the front pages.

And nya nya ne nya nya to that magpie!

Flow x

The silly side of surveillance

Mark Thomas/FeelgoodTV - Video Surveillance

I've been thinking about surveillance (oh, no particular reason, Officer).

And when you think about it - which, let's face it, most of us would prefer not to - there are a lot of different possible responses to the fact we are all being spyed on. People whose lives are boring and/or self-satisfied tend towards the "Well, I've got nothing to hide" point of view. But the rest of us are often either worried, afraid or scandalised.

Mark Thomas, however (bless his cotton socks!), does a fine job of exposing the ridiculous side of surveillance, as well as its outrageousness. As this video clip shows, if you choose to meet sneaky, covert operations with open, honest communication, and a polite-but-mischievous refusal to play by their rules, then the Powers That Be end up looking rather foolish.

Which is only to be expected, I suppose, when the key words that the establishment spies listen out for include artichoke and badger!

Oops, I've said 'em now! No doubt Echelon has already noticed ...

Flow x

A woman's brain

My friend Lorna sent me this diagram of a woman's brain (thank you).

Clearly this shouldn't be used as any kind of instruction guide for surgery, but it tickled me: it's more or less what my brain feels like at the moment!




Flow x

The turning of the year

Happy New Year!

It's the first of January, and this is my first post of 2009. I admit I have rather a hangover - a real head-thumping humdinger in fact - the first for about a decade - so forgive me, if my thinking seems a little wooly...

It seemed appropriate to reflect a little on the turning of the year. Last night, of course, we moved from one calendar year into the next. But the year is 'turning' in other ways, too. The winter solstice last week was the moment when the days began to grow longer and the nights began to grow shorter. And it's called the 'solstice' (as I can confidently tell you, because I did Latin at school!) because the sun (sol, from solus), which has been getting lower in the sky throughout the winter so far, stands still (stasis) for a few days before it begins to climb higher again.

'The turning of the year', indeed. I had a vague feeling that this must be a quotation, but I couldn't think of its source, so I googled the phrase. I was a little taken aback to find there are 57,400 results for that exact phrase, and nearly 39 million for 'turning' and 'year'! But I'm not easily daunted, so I followed up a couple of hunches.

First, I looked up Auld Lang Syne , but it's not in that. Then I thought of Shakespeare, but thanks to a rather nifty searchable text thingy I now know the phrase isn't his, either. I found it in a rather nice modern version of The Holly and the Ivy, but since this is very different from the old version I learned as a child, it can't be where I've heard it before.

My search uncovered a couple of lovely discoveries; they didn't help me with the origin of the phrase, but I was glad to have found them.

Someone has done lots of research on the symbolism of all the months of the year , and their post for Yule and the New Year made interesting reading:

"Yggdrasil (the world-tree whose roots were knotted in Hell and its boughs supported Heaven) ... This Tree of Life sheltered the Norns, another example of the triple-goddess: Urth (the past), Verdandi (the present), and Skuld (the future) who lovingly tended the tree. In Norse tradition, the festival of Yule (December 26-January 6) assigns 4 days to each of the Norns to honor the turning of the year. New Year’s day, the middle of this period has become a day when we remember the past and plan for the future, making resolutions to better our lives, and invoking the assistance of these triune sister goddesses".

Then the Guardian website had a page with some links to lovely poems relating to new year, including Emily Dickinson's 'Hope is a strange invention':

Hope is a strange invention
A Patent of the Heart
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out

Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own.

Hope seems to me to be great theme for 2009. Let's face it, 2008 wasn't much fun, was it? And I certainly hope this year will be better.

Fun. Ah yes: one of my favourite themes!

I never did find the origin of the phrase, but thoughts of the year's revolution have now turned to resolution. And I am resolved that this year will be much more fun-filled than last, because I agree with Tom Robbins:

"Fun! If others might find that appraisal of his life shallow, frivolous, so be it. To him, it seemed now to largely have been some form of play. And he vowed that in future he would strive to keep that sense of play more in mind, for he'd grown convinced that play - more than piety, more than charity or vigilance - was what allowed human beings to transcend evil".

And may 2009 be full of fun and play for you, too!

Flow x