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Posted on Wednesday, November 11, 2009 0 comments so far
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Life will be the death of you
Posted on Wednesday, July 01, 2009 0 comments so far
Life will be the death of you (based on a true story)
Joseph was a good man. He had worked hard at school and despite his lowly background had managed to qualify as a medical doctor, and with a little more study had become a psychiatrist. His aim in life was to serve the people with whom he had been raised, and so he returned to the town of his birth and practised his profession helping to heal those with damaged minds and souls. At the end of his week, when his mind was full of the ravings from his clients, he would repair to the tavern in the main square and consume a carafe of the local wine. He maintained that a carafe was enough to anaesthetise his troubled mind, but not enough to make him incoherently drunk. Every Friday, he would be seen wandering the darkening streets, humming a tune, to his house, where he would fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Patricia
As is the nature of things, in the fullness of time, Joseph met and married Patricia. She was a good wife to the good doctor, though she did tend to moan about his Friday night carafe in the tavern which, as is also the nature of things, tended to encourage the good doctor to do it more (Coue’s law of reversed effort). It became a habit to have a carafe several nights a week and Patricia began to scold Joseph, “The wine will be the death of you”. Sadly, she was never to know whether this was to be true, as she died a year later in childbirth. Joseph had a double funeral for his wife and the baby boy he was never to know.
So now Joseph would wander home from the tavern several nights a week. The anaesthetising effects of the wine now held back his grief. To be a man in his late thirties and to have lost both a wife and a son was more than he could easily comprehend. His work filled his days and the wine quietened his nights.
Pamela
As is the nature of things, in the fullness of time, Joseph met and married Pamela. She was a good wife to the good doctor, though she did tend to moan about his drinking, which had moved into the house, and though he was never drunk, he was sufficiently anaesthetised to create a distance between himself and Pamela. “The wine will be the death of you,” she would scold him. Sadly, she was never to know whether this was to be true as, despite producing two lovely girl children for the good doctor, she contracted septicaemia during a routine operation. Joseph and his daughters stood next to Pamela’s grave, which was next to Patricia’s and their son’s grave; the children wept and Joseph looked disbelieving.
Joseph now lived with his two teenage daughters. He worked hard during the day and visited the wine at night. To be a man in his fifties, with two wives in the ground and two adolescent daughters to bring up alone, God surely had a sense of humour, he thought. His dreams were full of his wives and of places they had never been, doing things that they never did. He would come home from his day’s labours and pour a glass of wine just to take the edge off his feelings. His daughter would scold him, “The wine will be the death of you”.
Mary
Joseph was approaching sixty when he met and married Mary, who was also a doctor, though a few years older than himself. She was a widow and had a son and a daughter. The couple would entertain their four children, partners and grandchildren at Christmas and Easter. Mary was a good wife to the good doctor, though she did tend to moan about his drinking that had become pretty much everyday. His housekeeper told Mary, “He must have a liver like a blast furnace”, and Mary told the good doctor, “The wine will be the death of you”. She was never to know whether this was to be true as death took her as naturally as can be expected. Mary died in her sleep at the age of seventy-five.
Joseph again found hiself beside the grave with the four children and some of the grandchildren. Their plot was getting bigger. Three wives and a son, each side-by-side, he began to wonder when it would be his turn to join them. They went back to the house, the mourners paying their respects and eating the finger-food provided by the caterers. Joseph poured himself a large glass of wine. His eldest daughter looked at him and said, “The wine will be the death of you”.
As is the nature of things, Joseph did not get married again, though he did enjoy the company of women and had several offers of marriage that he declined; he decided that enough was enough and that the issues of loss had overwhelmed him and he did not want to do it again.
He carried on working, that was his life and his joy and, at night, he would wander home and enjoy his carafe. It made him laugh when his lady-friends told him, “The wine will be the death of you”. As he attended each of their funerals, he was glad that he had not got married again. His children and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, visited often, and he loved to see their smiling faces and hear their funny stories.
Life is terminal – we all die
At the age of ninety-five, Joseph began, for the first time in his life, to feel tired. His work was not what it had been, he could not find the enthusiasm, and he felt that he had finally lost his spark. He decided that it was time to retire. He was sitting in the garden, enjoying the afternoon sun, drinking his wine, when it happened. He saw a flash of light and felt the stroke take the left side of his body. It was an odd sensation; he actually felt the muscles of his face drop as the glass fell from his hand onto the grass. Joseph watched the redness of the wine in the greenness of the grass. He found that he was laughing. He remembered his wives, and his children, and his girlfriends, he could hear each of them tell him, “The wine will be the death you”. He saw their faces. The half of his brain that was still functioning said very clearly, though nothing came out of his mouth, “The wine didn’t kill me, it was life”. Just two weeks short of his ninety-sixth birthday, Joseph’s light finally went out and he joined his wives and his son in the family plot. The funeral was well attended. The four children and been productive and there was a good showing of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There were also many friends and colleagues and though there were tears, they were tears of joy and gratitude at the pleasure of sharing this man’s life that had now come to a timely end. After the service, the family and friends returned to Joseph’s house, where they raised a glass of the finest red and toasted him on his way.
The unknowable
There is wonder in the unknowable; we will all die. Some of us will have a shortened life, due to our lifestyle. Others will seemingly live forever, or for a very long time. Life expectancy grows on a daily basis. In many parts of Britain, the death age of a woman is expected to be ninety-six, with their men dying about five or six years before them. I recently read in a science magazine that following the current trend of increasing life expectancy, the first person who will live to one hundred-and-fifty years old is probably already alive.
It seems poignant that as Michael Jackson has left the party early, at the age of fifty, to consider our own situation. It takes me back to my teacher who said, “You are not ready to live until you are ready to die”. In this, he was implying that at whatever age we die, we should be prepared and have our life in order, debts repaid or repayable, and those for whom we are responsible, provided for. That all that should be said, has been said, so that there is no unfinished business. It is then that we are able to go and get on with our life.
Business to finish
Are you up to date? Who do you need to communicate with? What do you need to sort out?
I was working with a lady the other day that had just lost her father. The thing that upset her the most was that she could not remember telling him that she loved him and she really wished that she had, so that she could be sure that he really knew it when he died.
Who do you need to tell that you love them?
I suggest that you make it your task over the next seven days to ensure that you have shared your positive feelings with those around you, that you thank those around you, and you share your love for them. So, turn your computer off and get communicating. You will be amazed at how good it makes you feel.
See ya Friday
Sean x
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The summer solstice and times gone by
Posted on Monday, June 22, 2009 0 comments so far
What was good?
So, how did you do? If you did the task, you will be feeling the reward. How hard did you find it? Was it difficult to be positive? When you first try, it is tough. The paradigm, the monkey, in your head will want to take you back to same old, same old behaviour. It is the same for all of us. But that is the good bit. You are not alone, you are simply being normal. For some reason, not known by me, the human race finds it easier to tune into the negative, as evidenced by every news broadcast on the planet. Good news is rarely considered newsworthy. That is not because it is not newsworthy, it is because it is the habit of generations to focus on the negative.
Those that are negatively focussed do so because of internal fears and doubts. Globally, people fear wars and famines, unrest and terrorism, shortage and lack, depression, credit crunch, you name it. Once we have fear, we have doubt and we have uncertainty. Personally, we may fear for our job, be fearful of debt or the fidelity of a partner. Once we have fear, the universe ceases to be a safe place and once safety is lost, our creative potential is often the next casualty.
The cycle of life
Life, in the physical world, is a cycle. There is nothing wrong or fearful about death; it is as natural and as timely as birth. There is nothing fearful about financial downturns; they are as natural as upturns. Autumn and winter are the precursors of spring and summer, and they in their turn will fade into another autumn; it is simply the way that it is.
Yet to the human mind ‘this is the coldest winter on record’ – no, it’s not, that was the ice age, or ‘this is the driest summer since records began’ – have you ever been to the desert? The planet moves in cycles. In the cold phase, the water of the planet is locked up in the poles and glacial formations. The land currently under water is exposed as sea levels drop. In the warm phase, the water held at the pole melts and the previously exposed lowlands experience ‘the flood’ as sea levels rise again. It is a cycle. In our heated and controlled living environments, we in the West are in danger of losing touch with the natural cycles around us. Our ancestors marked the changing seasons and cycles with festivals and offerings.
Summer solstice
In the northern hemisphere, June 21st is the summer solstice; this is the longest day and the shortest night. From here on, the days get shorter and the sun will set earlier each day right through to the winter solstice on December 21st that will be the longest night and the shortest day. Then the cycle will begin again as the days begin to lengthen. We all live within cycles of life and of death.
Moon cycles
Women often have a greater awareness of cycles, as each month their menstrual cycle reminds them. Men have a monthly cycle too, though not so pronounced. At different times of the month, a man’s facial hair growth will be more vigorous and his sexual drive stronger. We are all doing it.
When is your New Year?
In the cycle of the year, we identify January 1st as the New Year, but your New Year begins on your birthday. That is your cycle. That also means that your mid-year is six months on from your birthday. Astrologers would tell that this is when you are at your lowest ebb, at the furthest point away from your birthday, when you would be at your highest point of energy. This is the point where your bio-energies are weakest. I was born in February at the point when Aquarius and Pisces meet, in the second month of the year, so my low point is the eight month. What is yours?
Perhaps we would benefit from acknowledging the older customs that mark the seasons.
I hope you had a happy solstice.
Sean x
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