Write-Place

Since coming across this article in   The Guardian's "Long Read"  my mind has  been full of the issues it raises- so to speak.   Ronald Purser,   is a professor of management at  San Francisco State University, and the  author of   McMindfulness: How Mindfulness Became the New Capitalist Spiritualit y  available in paperback from Repeater Books from July 2019. While I wait for the full book, I have considered the article and moved on to  discuss the sentiments and assertions that Purser makes.

William Blake "To See a World..." (Fragments from "Auguries of Innocence" To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. A Robin Redbreast in a Cage Puts all Heaven in a Rage. A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions. A Horse misused upon the Road A Dog starved at his Master’s Gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A fiber from the Brain does tear. Calls to Heaven for Human blood. Each outcry of the hunted Hare The Beggar’s Dog and Widow’s Cat, He who shall train the Horse to War Shall never pass the Polar Bar. Poison gets from Slander’s tongue. Feed them and thou wilt grow fat. The Gnat that sings his Summer song Beats all the Lies you can invent. The poison of the Snake and Newt Is the sweat of Envy’s Foot. A truth that’s told with bad intent Thro’ the World we safely go. It...

While looking for and attempting to organise some photographs, I have come across many of my written pieces/thoughts/poetry from the recent and distant past. (Oh no ! Not the poetry again !  I hear you exclaim). I think this one is worth revisiting however, if only to show thankfulness and gratitude to whoever or whatever did "somehow help".  Obviously a culmination of many things, but I am pleased to say that I travelled through that dark and helpless place that I wrote of, and came out the other side and back to "normal" (relatively ! ) Hope others may identify. Perhaps you could somehow help, for a ll the things that I held dear have left me. Everything I thought I owned, all the treasures of a personal world, all that I call ed mine , gone . And not just the material things. But yes they are gone too. The things that mattered and made me what I was,   the books, ornaments, memory trinkets of the past. Pictures, photo...

It was the last night of my four night visit to Rome. I'd walked myself to the verge of exhaustion again and was having a final cup of tea in the bar/restaurant next to my hotel. Some new brick paving was being laid on the street and the bar was struggling to keep down the dust, even after the builders had finished for the day and the air conditioner was doing it's best to pump out some cool, moist air onto the tables and customers sitting outside with food and drinks. Emerging from the haze of cold air combined with concrete dust, was a woman, glasses hanging lopsidedly from their cord around her neck, speaking a combination of English and Italian, from which we customers understood that she had something annoying in her eye.  She lurched across to my table and asked if she could "leave this here a moment" , laying down an A4 notebook, whilst squinting and protesting about the "something" in her eye as she did so. "This stupid thing - it keep...

So, just when I decided that it's time I really ought to get back to using a pen or pencil instead of a keyboard constantly, I find this function on my phone. It's called Docs, which is simple enough for me to remember what to look for even when having a senior moment or ten. Whether it's been available all the time I've had the phone or if it's a new thing, I don't know, but I do know that it's a lot easier and quicker than the memo facility and, whilst there is definitely something to the feel of writing on paper- especially brand new paper and I've got a beautiful new notebook that is crying out to be used -  needs must, as they say and my old age and the conditions it brings with it mean that using one thumb as opposed to a whole hand is a more pleasurable experience. I understand that I can write, edit, save and share whether online or not so have visions of me tapping out my next best seller (next ?) while sat on a bea...

 Doubles Alice was older then Evelyn- by twenty minutes precisely. They'd come into the world quite calmly and quietly, the midwife had said, at 7 am on 17th June; definite identical twins. Gemini, in fact. Even from that first moment of new life, it was clear that they were going to be a little 'different', though no one was quite sure how or in what way. They'd been wrapped up immediately in stiff green linen and laid side by side in a hospital cot where their where their wide open eyes had gazed at each other as though trying to establish their togetherness, from the start, oblivious to the other bawling babies in the hospital nursery. Neither of them cried, even when hungry and they needed little in the way of comfort from nurses arms. Their solace seemed to lie in each other and as long the two babies were in the same cot, they were content. No one in later years was quite sure what had become of their mother...

After what has seemed a very long three weeks and two days, my Mam, Marjorie Holmes's funeral was held yesterday. A beautiful service just as she wanted was held at the Crematorium in Rotherham, led by Rev Mick Neal and arranged with the help and support of Jeremy Neal Funeral Director . Thank you to everyone who came to the funeral and all those who sent kind messages of love and support to us all.   Welcome to Autumn The summer may be over, and winter drawing near So now let's light a candle, for loved ones we hold dear. There's purple on the mountains, and beauty all around With here and there a summer rose Still waiting to be found It's time for reminiscing, recalling Summer days For sharing hope and happy thoughts in many quiet ways  A time for being thankful for all the happiness and joy Which created  Autumn memories that Winter can't destroy Gone From Sight I am standing on the seashore. A...