An Endeavour

Today was strange and busy.
In the morning, after dropping off Tom at the childminders, I ran for my usual 15km. Then Claire and I went to the cinema to see the wonderful "12 Years a Slave". In the evening I attended the first class of my "Introduction to philosophy" course (we are both trying something new- Claire has started to dance the Lindy Hop). Later on we watched the last few hours of an American TV series we have invested over forty hours of our time watching in the last five weeks. So my day was physically and mentally tiring but, ultimately rewarding. The best kind of day, in its own way.


Been vegetarian for three weeks. Craving cheese like heroin! Making meals like spicy Mexican bean burgers, falafels, sushi, roasted veg quiche, veg kievs, veg chilli, mushroom soup, etc.


I can't not choose. If I do not choose then that is a choice. So if I cannot not choose my potential choices need to be rational and considered. So I need not be contrarian or destructively argumentative but I need to weigh and consider. No dispensation for dispensations' sake.


I am hoping my recent understanding of humanism may give me skeleton or framework upon which to flesh out ideas, thoughts and understandings, maybe about some things that were under my nose all along that can now be seen in a  new light.
The default, normal position for the average human is, compared to mine, woeful. A shorter, unhealthy life with greater disease and destitution, most people are born into a losing struggle. Most people will live a life without the things I take for granted- food, shelter, sanitation. But I have met over three thousand people through work and most of them are OK. Content enough, surviving, remaining mostly positive about the world and its people. Even some tortured refugees who have lost everyone who has ever known them, for whom there doesn't exist any shared experiences and memories, there appears to be hope and a willingness to believe in the positivity of others. Surely dogma can only fail because the human spirit is too strong and unyielding.
I remind myself of a conversation I had with a gentleman who had received refugee status. He told me that after seeing his wife and children murdered in font of him and after he was shot and left for dead and after going on the run through the desert for weeks and after being captured and tortured for months he would lie on the cold, dark floor in his cold, dark cell in a cold, dark corner of some God-forsaken desert hundreds of miles from anyone who may know him. He told me I might think he only felt despair, which I did think. But he said he also felt hope. He said "if it feels like there is only despair then there is always hope too. There is always hope". I try to think of him when I find myself wallowing in self-pity or have a sudden attack of "poor me".

My Third Dream

I dreamt about Ruby last night for only the third time since she died and it was crystal clear.
She was wearing her daily uniform of long-sleeved red T-shirt, blue jeans and pixie boots. She had short hair, having only recently cut it just before we last saw her, and she kept on resting her head on my chest. She was showing me round classrooms in her boarding school (we would never send her to a boarding school!) which was in a tropical forest and was showing me her class work with pride.
Then we climbed a huge tree together in which she lived. Then Claire appeared and she and I had to leave on a train. We didn't want to go but knew we had to leave Ruby there. Ruby was happy and courageous and didn't stop smiling a huge grin.
When I woke up I didn't want the dream to leave me and I cried like a child.
I can still feel her shoulders under my arms and her thick hair against my neck.

First post- a new start?

I was off work for five months and have been back for two.
I have been fearful of compassion fatigue because of my inability to deal with the serious mental distress of others- a very difficult problem for a conscientious mental health worker. My coping mechanisms have decreased and I am tearful and unable to clearly see a way through others' fog. I have realised that my traumatic experiences have decreased my coping abilities because it has increased my sensitivity. My experiences have not desensitised me but have hyper-sensitised me to the point of fragility. This probably also explains new humanist-based thoughts about ethical vegetarianism and my other responsibilities as an atheist.
I think I need to simplify and prioritise.


Previously life was just lived. Now it has to be worked at.


Because there is no fatalism, because there is no creator directing me, I must create my own path, autonomously and with considered self-governing. Because I reject all religions I have responsibilities as an atheist. It is not enough to float through the waters being directed by the flow of my environment. I have responsibility to myself. I also have responsibility to those I love and who love me. Also to the community around me- my street and town, all other living organisms and the physical planet.
To myself, to live flourishingly and with consideration (as Aristotle would encourage me). To those I love and who love me, to ameliorate distress, to make safe, to encourage growth. To the wider world, to leave as small a footprint as possible, to cause no violence.