03 February, 2012
Spanish Notebook: 28.12.11 - I never buy a lottery ticket in Spain because I don't know how it works - you could win and never know; when/where is the draw - how to check numbers/claim prize etc. Tickets are sold by registered vendors - who go about the streets and cafes with a clipboard. I've become a 'kent face' in Pepe's bar at the corner - exchanging smiles and 'holas' with the locals - including Miguel the village 'lotero'. Today Pepe tells me that the next draw is in two days - that he'll keep my ticket in the till - check it for me; so to be sociable I invest 10 euros - Miguel says I could win a million euros.
Spanish Notebook: 29.12.11 - Writing this, 3pm, on Ana's terrace in bright sunshine; ended lunch with her great rice pudding (arroz con leche). Yesterday's lottery ticket has preoccupied me all day - pondering what difference a million euros would make to my life; I've decided it would make no difference. I no longer believe in the fairytale notion of happiness - of sudden life-changing events. Content now with the mundane, day to day fragments of life - this - here - now - like the details of a mosaic: sunlight - this novel - Ana's laughter - homemade chips - this notebook - those flowers - arroz con leche… But if I've settled for life's simple things - why have I spent all morning pretending to be a millionaire - imagining my new lifestyle - including a posh villa.
- Read full bulletin
27 January, 2012
On occasional trips to London, I hang around the Bloomsbury area, visit Marchmont Street - an eclectic mix of cafes, bookshops etc - with an emergent, creative vibe. One of my haunts at No.70, is the School of Life - ground floor books - over a salon which hosts classes and one-off seminars, under the general theme of 'Ideas to live by'. Here's the menu, http://www.senscot.net/view_art.php?viewid=11899 School of Life was founded in 2008 by writer, Alain de Botton and a dozen pals; their vision is of a centre where people can share ideas about how to live wisely and well, without reference to any dogma. The uncoupling of human wisdom from authoritarian religion really appeals; I sometimes reflect on how a Scottish sister School of Life might look.
Alain de Botton has written a new book - Religion for Atheists - which can be seen as an extension of the School of Life work. He looks at world religions from the point of view of a non-believer who is sympathetic - commenting on the 'babies thrown out with the bathwater' by those of us who have given up membership of a church. For much of my life, I was a practising Catholic (including two years in a Seminary) but over the years I found myself smothered within a closed system of belief. But de Botton is right - the collective experience of world religions has much to teach secular society about how to live wisely and well. http://www.senscot.net/view_art.php?viewid=11895
- Read full bulletin
20 January, 2012
More or less housebound this week with severe leg pain - a disc in my lower back pressing on a nerve; I'm in the queue for an MRI scan. For old folk, pain is no longer a surprise; most mornings, reaching for my socks, there'll be some new twinge - what now! But this present level of pain has been rare for me - thankfully. It brings two timely reminders: That few things in life concentrate our attention so completely (and terribly) as severe pain; and that few things are more boring to listen to or read about. The worst part of the experience was not being able to sleep - but they've given me painkillers called Tramadol - which hold the worst of it - get me through the night.
There's a school of thought which says that pain can only be endured and defeated if it is 'embraced'. 'Surrendering', they argue, marks an inner transition from 'no' to 'yes' - from resistance to acceptance. Anything we accept completely, releases us. When you 'surrender' - your sense of self shifts from being identified with pain - to being the 'space around' the pain. Sally, who clears tables up at the Garden Centre Cafe, is a 'mindful' person - into yoga, meditation and stuff; tell her about my 'surrendering to pain' strategy. She seems very impressed - asks the obvious question - does it work? Feel I have to tell her the truth - that I've never tried it without Tramadol. The look she gives me is scathing.
- Read full bulletin
13 January, 2012
During my recent Spanish visit - trudging along the seashore became obsessive - 3 or 4 hours a day - I lost 8lbs. I was like Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump - crossing the USA on foot - driven by some unconscious quest - not sure what this is about.
My daily route takes me past a wee snack bar attached to a budget supermarket; it's run by Ana, on her own - scrambled eggs exactly as I like them. Ana is a big, earthy woman, about 50, from a hill village - not a word of English - not interested. Strong, lined face - the gentlest of eyes and smile - spiritual; we like each other - communicate easily like old friends. But what stays with you about Ana is her laughter. Free, joyous, raucous. Watching her with customers - she can make anyone smile - makes me want to be like her. I am resolved that 2012 will be the year of laughter.
I got back from Spain at midnight last Thursday. The taxi headlights picked out something strange in my front garden. "Blimey"; the driver says, "that's your chimney". And so it was, blown off the roof, it's revolving granny still attached. When I get inside - no central heating (water pump kaput). Then I put my back out lifting my suitcase (acute sciatica). Welcome home Laurence! But I still have the image of a sunlit corner table - a warm, friendly woman bringing me scrambled eggs with wild asparagus - bantering with her regulars - laughing all the way.
- Read full bulletin
06 January, 2012
This is the best weather I can recall in Andalucia at New Year - clear skies - hot sun - but the air is cold. Most days I go to the sea - still and shimmering - sit in an old chair, placed so the water laps my feet; an old geezer on a chair - wearing a coat - paddling. One stormy day, I still walked the shore - drinking the wild air - the sea roused - all roar and flying spray - spectaculo.
When Laurie Lee walked this shoreline in 1935 - the beach from Gibraltarto Malaga was shingle. The present sand must be imported for tourism. Along ourstretch of beach, the surf has exposed the original shingle and I’ve started collecting tiny fragments of terracotta - polished by years on the seabed. Pottery has existed since 6000BC; for thousand of years, the great empires of history have traded across these very waters. I like to imagine that my polished shards were made by Egyptians, Greeks, Phoenicians etc (they could equally be fromTorremolinos - circa 1985).
And if we have been lucky enough to love the sea since we were children - her lure will always stay with us. And no matter where we go, we will always return - and always be rewarded; for she can change our moods and make us feel things we like to feel. And there is never any end to the call of the seashore - no matter how old we become - the old man and the sea.
- Read full bulletin
See all previous bulletin intros here
|
|
