Saturday, 26 November 2016


I dipped a bird by ten minutes a few weeks ago. A very rare one. And worse, some friends of mine who had arrived 11 minutes earlier were there to greet me, all big smiles. It would be uncharitable to muse on whether they gained more satisfaction from seeing the bird or from daubing the rear window of my car with the word “DIPPER”, but I think we all know the answer. I am relaxed about it, and that’s what today’s post is about – my uncharacteristically soporific state of mind.

I don’t actually know if I am a relaxed person normally. My family would probably say that I am not. Neither would the poor sods who work for me in London and Glasgow. The nature of my work and my hectic schedule outside of work should also both point to “no”, but somehow – and I have yet to comprehend exactly why – I am feeling more relaxed than I have for what seems like ages. Highs and lows are like water off a duck’s back, nothing phases me at the moment. Not even dips.

Self-inflicted injuries are beginning to grate mind you. One I could cope with, I only got mildly pissed off when I broke my hand which was a bit of a surprise to me as much as anybody. It is fair to say that I did not enjoy either of my colonoscopies very much, but this is just a part of life that no doubt I would have arrived at sooner or later, so I just accepted them for what they were. Necessary and unpleasant, but brief. And then the ankle. That was more just exasperation, and at that point I just wondered when it was going to stop. Had you suggested that any of these things were going to happen to me at the start of 2016, I would likely have freaked out, but actually my reaction has been more along the lines of “and?”.

I think I am beginning to subscribe to the theory of “It is what it is”. This is different to any kind of motto such as seize the day, live every day as if it’s your last or similar. That’s ridiculous. This is more just being resigned to whatever happens, and accepting that things happen for a reason. That’s not to say I’m disinterested in life, far from it, I am enjoying it a lot. I have simply reached a stage in it where I am content and comfortable, and the odd challenge or irritation doesn’t bother me. I've had rather too many challenges in a short space of time perhaps, but I am told this is the new normal and I have several more decades of it to look forward to it. Hence the quiet resignation perhaps as I just limp towards the next minor disaster and an acceptance that nothing really matters that much, and as long as we're all happy then everything's OK really. See? Relaxed.

Today has been a day of low accomplishment. Normally I would be annoyed at myself for wasting an entire precious day, but today I don't really care. It's fine, it's what weekends are for. The girls and I have spent most of the day being cozy in the house, watching birds come to the feeders in the garden. I had no urge to go out onto the Flats to see their brethren, I was quite content indoors. We left the house once, an abortive shopping trip for a birthday present for my nephew where I visited one JD Sports and three Sports Directs in the space of an hour, taking in Leyton, Walthamstow and Tottenham. Even this failed to raise my blood pressure, whereas it ought to have caused apoplexy. I am beginning to wonder if I am alright.....

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