Some Things Never Change

Sitting here this morning and reflecting on why I get up and write every morning. I watched my grandmother do the same as I was growing up. Each new day started with a cup of coffee, a fag and a hand written letter to somebody.

I gave up the hand writing a few years ago for the word processor on my computer. It was not an easy thing until I saw how quickly I could ‘delete’ parts of what I had just said. Brilliant, I thought, and stuck with it. Unfortunately, I do not always ‘delete’ parts that infuriate others.

Now, when I have a mind to, I can even publish what I write to go all over the world instantaneously! I wonder what grandma would have made of this. Possibly, she would not be sure, just like I sit...

...wondering how all this will shape the way we communicate to and with one another and when someone will figure out how to put a postage stamp on our newfound freedom to vent...will our silly responses be stored and archived in some futuristic electronic library for the next generations to try and figure out what the heck we meant?

I discovered recently at University that many of the young students could not read long hand...you know, the kind my grandmother did, and I was taught, now, they can only read print. And, most will not bother to read any further than what can be conveyed in a ‘text’ language. I found myself writing poetry in ‘text’ just so I could be read.

Amazing to see how fast things are changing...some days it makes me exhilarated, some days it just makes me tired.

Today, I sit between the two options and wonder, what to do next...in order to be engaged with.

I find that even with the ability to reach out and write to people all over the world at a moment’s notice, I still mainly hold a conversation with myself.

Some things never change.

And, the figuring out what those things are...takes a lifetime...and at the end of it, or shall I say, more than half way through...you discover that there is only one of you out there anyway...

So, I find, I sit here and write to myself, for myself and that is good enough.

Cleanliness Statement

Statement from a retired mother:




Leave things behind you as if you had never been there. That is what it is like when your mother doesn’t live with you anymore; everything that has to get done gets done by you.

And, when living with other people appropriately, they never know you’ve been there at all.

Watch closely how others live around you and who takes care of what and when and how often and discover a world wherein there is always something to do, and those who do the bulk of menial tasks are usually women...advise to the next generation...think largely on how to stop that.