Easter. Chocolate eggs, church service, a meat-free but fancy meal, family, friends, laughter, prayer, wine, happiness, an argument or two, more wine, more laughter, argument resumes, more chocolate, even more wine and laughter, argument forgotten… It is a truth universally acknowledged that where there is a family there is a circus. Family gatherings start with warm greetings and proceed with peals of laughter that may lead to tears of frustration followed by awkward apologies. There is no such thing as normality where family is involved. There’s only varying degrees of weird: hardly weird, barely weird, fairly weird, weird, very weird, exceedingly weird, astronomically weird and full-blown X-Files. But it’s this weirdness that makes your family unique. And special. And weird. It’s when you gather as one that you feel whole. It’s also as one that you feel the gains and losses acutely. That empty chair, that missing smile, that voice you used to hear… Gone. This Easter acknowledge your losses but remember to celebrate your gains. People come and go, but love stays. If you find you have nothing to celebrate; celebrate love and it’s ability to withstand the sands of time. Happy Easter weekend one and all.
Many people think they’ve been sent to this rock to evaluate and dictate other people and their everything, that is, lifestyle, sense of dress, personality, life goals, everything from one’s lucky socks to one’s stay-at-home clothes. Mostly, this interest in everyone else’s everything, is expressed due to love or concern. But sometimes, someone comes along with all the wrong intentions and sometimes, they manage to creep under your skin and make you feel that maybe, just maybe, you aren’t as adequate as you felt you were. Small comments, whispered words dripping with implications, snide remarks, thinly veiled sarcasm… Suddenly it seems the other person knows more about how you should dress or act than you do. Sounds preposterous. But it happens. And here’s a little golden nugget of information: Nothing you ever do will satisfy that person. Why? Because their issue isn’t with you, it’s with themselves. And the more you try to gain their approval, the more they’ll ask of you until eventually, you’re a mere husk of the glorious human being you once were.
The advice then is this: Live and let live. Live your life and let others live theirs. If your interference in other people’s lives is with good intentions, then hopefully good results will be produced. If however, your intentions are of a more sinister nature, how then can the results be good? And for those on the receiving end of the interference, a simple ‘thank you but no thank you’ will suffice. It’s not always easy but that’s just life being its usual female-dog self. And remember Spongebob knows best:
While this author of all things strange and twisted was away by order of the Gods of the scholars and knowledge, a strange occurrence took place. Some people partake in the activity with great joy and gusto. Others shrug and say they haven’t the time. Others shudder and say they’d rather not. But this writer is part of those whose reaction to the mention of the activity ranges from sheer disgust to a violent allergic reaction. While this author refers to the activity as ‘dying’ others simply call it ‘jogging.’ That is correct. One has taken up dying, er, jogging. And though the first jog felt like a spot of torture from the Spanish Inquisition, the rest felt … less torturous and more liberating. This jogging hasn’t led to my untimely demise but rather, to a wellbeing that can only be compared to the one induced by alcohol, except with health benefits other than ‘getting wasted’ and so the advice is this: Try some sort of exercise and see where it takes you. It may not be ‘to your grave’ after all. Jog, swim, cycle, walk, crawl- no, the line is drawn at walk. Go on. Give it a try.