Funfare for the Common Man

Just days ago I was contemplating yet another end of summer and reminiscing on summers past, was sitting on the embankment looking out over the water, watching a fisherman wading into the murky waters, up to his waist, calmly and patiently casting his rod into the reeds, when I opened up to the start of chapter 2 of my book and came upon this lovely passage, as if there was an inner spirt in my kindle tapping into my thoughts. My goodness, it was so apt:  ‘Melanie swam like a blind, earless fish in a sea of sedation, where there was no time or memory but only dreams. Summer changed to autumn before she surfaced and lay palely on her bed, remembering.’ The Magic Toyshop , Angela Carter J une 2006, the World Cup in Germany: a fun month in an up-and-down summer I’ve written about the seasons and weather way too many times on this blog over the years and I don’t want to rehash yet again about how much I adore autumn and dislike summer. A very brief summery (sorry): I struggle with heat...

Holosiivskyi Park, Kyiv, August 2021 In previous posts I’ve expounded upon the benefits of having down time, your own ‘me time’ to contemplate life and perhaps even your entire existence and purpose. It really doesn’t matter what you do with it, but some of the most precious time we have is time to reflect and think. Combine that with walking, another one of life’s underrated, unadulterated pleasures. It’s also unbelievably beneficial for the health of your mind: it’s one of the cheapest and most nourishing brain foods. I haven’t been able to do any travelling this year but I’ve been able to find plenty of consolation in city walking.  As much as I yearn to walk through the countryside, maunder amongst meandering hills, up winding mountain paths, through thick, luscious forests, along riversides, there is still plenty of joy to be found walking in cities. Sure, the heat may be unbearable at times so you have to pick your days carefully, but there’s so much to discover even in your ...

Two of my greatest pleasures in life: reading obituaries and profound quotations. When Donald Rumsfeld - twice American Secretary of Defense, among other roles – recently died at the age of 88, I couldn’t help but genuflect to his epic quotation: ‘[A]s we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don't know we don't know.’ For any students of English out there, that’s much less convoluted than it first appears. Leaving politics aside – I don’t get into matters political here – Rumsfeld came under vicious attack for this seemingly mealy-mouthed statement. But I have always found it to be brilliant and full of wisdom. He uttered it in 2002; in 2010 the book Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb came out, and many of us now refer to Black Swan events almost willy nilly when something unexpected occurs. Or, rather, ...

As opposed to being fully or unemployed. Imagine this dream scenario: a 25(ish)-hour work week, but with a satisfactory salary and a pretty decent quality of life. Or a four-day work week, same conditions. And when I say ‘dream scenario’, I mean it for mere mortals like us – we’re not talking the 1%, the fabulously wealthy, the Bitcoin or Dogecoin millionaires.  I’ve been thinking about this recently and I know that it’s not an original idea and with the reading I do I often forget where and when I’ve come across something. I was certain that it was Daniel Kahneman who mentioned this in his masterpiece of behavioural economics, Thinking, Fast and Slow. A simple search turns out I was right. And it was his long-time collaborator Amos Tversky, who played a major role in Kahneman’s 2002 Nobel Prize in Economics, who said it:  “[T]he secret to doing good research is always to be a little underemployed. You waste years by not being able to waste hours.” Think about when your best i...

Just over a year ago, I started off my ‘Is there a ’best age’ to be in today’s world? How scary, really, does the future have to be?’ post with this quotation: “A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.” (EB White) I haven’t had to resort to recycling old quotations because I’m short of ideas; rather, I want to stress how relevant that thought is right now. There are a lot of ideas on my mind that I’d like to share. But I can’t seem – despite what I’ve attempted to say before – to overcome this need to find ‘ideal conditions’ in which to write. ‘Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in the human situation.’ (Ways of Escape, Graham Greene) There, that’s better. Rewind back to March 2020 with me if you will – sorry, this brings back painful memories to the start of the pandemic. May...

Let me tell you a little bit about setting goals. Let me also tell you a little bit about process versus product. I dislike goals. I don’t have any, for the most part. But I’m content and generally feel like I am developing, both personally and professionally. I know this may seem to be a contrarian idea, but let me explain. Let’s look at this from the point of view of teaching a language. You’re learning English, for example. There’s no question that goal setting can increase your extrinsic motivation (you want to emigrate, get a particular exam result, you need it for a job opportunity, etc) but at the same time it may affect your intrinsic motivation: doing it for pleasure and enjoying the process. The reality is, there might be things we have to do in terms of goal setting but we shouldn’t lose sight of the beauty of doing things for pure pleasure if we feel it aids in our growth. There are dangers to having too narrow a focus so I always try to keep an open mind. Goals can often i...

Pieter Bruegel, The Hunters in the Snow, © Public Domain Don’t be in such a rush to welcome spring. For my Ukrainian friends and readers, it’s the start of spring. For most of the rest of us, we’re still about 3 weeks away, with the spring equinox on 20 March. What’s the hurry? This aeon.co article, which I turn to for solace once or twice a year, captures it best: Winter is a time of regeneration: we’ll miss it when it’s gone ‘Winter, for me, is a period of reflection and regeneration, of withdrawal, reminiscent of a time when humans were forced to be more malleable and responsive to the seasons.’ I can’t say I necessarily love winter. And no, I don’t particularly like snow, especially when living in a city, and especially in a city that does such a lousy job of clearing streets and pavements, and where deadly icicles dangle perilously from the rooftops, waiting to impale those who walk underneath. In short, where public safety is an afterthought. Never mind that: I like the cosin...