Writing

Source – A year ago if you had asked me if I thought I was a patient person, my unequivocal answer - given without so much as a batted eyelid - would have been that I thought I was; somewhere between 9 and 9.5 on a scale of 1 to 10 if you had pressed me to quantify. The reality, grudgingly accepted after much soul searching a few weeks ago, is that I am not; a realisation that has left me second guessing the validity of all the other assumptions about myself I carry. The first seeds of doubt to assail my iron clad convictions were sown by an offhand comment by my friend M, the context being a decision she needed to make. As far as I was concerned, it was an open and shut case; she needed to put the poor sod she was stringing along - in my opinion - out of his misery. To her it was a lot more nuanced than that, for which I got the quip about being impatient (and unfeeling). ...

For Mag 309: In the set of her shoulders and the glint in her eye- is the quiet reassurance of certitude; and of knowing. That as certain as after day comes night, And with the wind comes chill, She wins… In the end.

A year ago if you asked me how good I was with waiting, I suspect without giving it much thought I would have gone for somewhere between 9 and 9.5 on a scale of 1 to 10. What I am finding out to my chagrin, prompted by a few events and a conversation with my friend M (in which I get the blame for the unravelling of a certain situation) is that I suck at this waiting business. ...

For seasons of uncertainty

For Mag 308: Dear Future Me, I wanted to tell you that whatever happens tonight- on the corner of L and Ninth; you will survive. That this too, this sense Of worry wrapping itself like a wreath around your windpipe will pass, whether lost in the exhilaration of assent; or obliterated in the loud clang of a cataclysmic bang. That this sense of free fall, of uncertainty gnawing at your insides will give way to the clarity of certitude; that the restful stillness of truth will triumph over the ambivalence of baseless hope. ...

For Mag 305 Like a sentinel She casts her eye over the Sea. Those who have left- A lost, fading blob. In her heart hides defiant Hope For their returning.

--- She whirls to the rhythm of the rain. Her dance, light-footed - A pirouette - in step with the beat The light, gentle splatter of rain - Drops stopped in full flight By the chipped stones makes. As the night light catches The fringe of her costume She is no longer there. What we have is the after glow Of stolen re-memory - Of Peace and of repose And the calming lightness Of the patter of the Rain. ...

My first run since I cracked a couple of bones in my foot last October went without incident, all fifteen minutes of it. I took my usual route, up the Beach Boulevard and then towards the Beach Esplanade; the long, straight stretch of which I have come to love for the sense of exhilaration I get as my feet pound the ground in time with whatever song I am listening to. ...

This year, instead of a bucket list of things I am hoping to achieve, I chose to identify 12 things, key changes which in my opinion if implemented in my life would deliver the biggest value. The intent is to focus on one for each month, the idea (referenced in this Matt Cutts TEDx talk) being that focusing on one change for a thirty day period gives one a fighting chance of making lasting change. ...

In his seminal essay Why I Blog, Andrew Sullivan reflects on the subject of blogging; it’s similarity to - and shared etymology with - a ship’s log, its rise in step with the proliferation of the web technologies which have made it possible, and the unique niche it fills in the online space. Its overarching and enduring quality, he surmises, is due in part to two things; the informal, almost instantaneous nature of blogging as a reaction to news and events, and the intense, if sometimes unforgiving, interaction between blogger and reader that blogs enable. The conclusions he reaches are from considering a specific form of a blog, the sort that lies at the intersection of personal reflection and journalism, much like his (now retired blog) Daily Dish. Overall the numbers are mind boggling. Back in 2005, Technorati estimated that a blog was born every second, with 14.2m blogs being tracked by them back then (For some context, Tumblr which didn’t exist back in 2005 was home to 261 million blogs as of the 1st of November this year). The vast majority of this blogosphere is made up of blogs that are far less serious in nature and content than the ones Sullivan’s comments concern primarily, however his conclusions apply, perhaps more-so in this personal, less formal space. ...