Since I was delivered back home from three weeks in a hospital bed I've been getting daily visits from district nurses, healthcare visitors and physiotherapists. As soon as I arrived I found a bed installed in our front room. It barely fits - the mantelpiece had to be removed. Somebody pointed out that Vincent van… Continue reading My Hospital Bed at Home
Category: mortality
Driving again
I stopped driving three years ago, started to feel frightened of hitting other vehicles, or worse. Even in daylight. Carefully made my last journey up the hill to WeBuyAnyCar, was amazed to get back nearly half of what I paid for it new ten years earlier. (v. low mileage full, maintenance history—plus inflation?) But I'm… Continue reading Driving again
Glad
My life has changed so radically in the last 7 days that I don't know what to say. Unless I write, knowing I'll reach a handful of readers, I won't have access to my true thoughts and feelings. Strange perhaps, but it's been this way for a long time. In ordinary consciousness, this radical change… Continue reading Glad
Just like that
This is an impromptu rant, just to get things started. Perhaps meaningless and incoherent. From someone who used to support the #metoo movement—not any more.
Travelling on Foot
A Wayfarer’s Notes has changed its motto again. Farewell “not-doing”; back to Werner Herzog and his dictum: “The world reveals itself to those who travel on foot.” To be sure what he means, I check context. Patrick House: You once walked from Munich to Paris to visit your dying friend, and in your film “Wheel… Continue reading Travelling on Foot
“There is No Other Doer but He”
As journals, blogs are like life: open-ended. You finish one piece, you've no idea what the next will say, or whether there'll be a next one. After ending my last with a quote from Julian of Norwich, to round the thing off as I thought, I never expected to encounter her again so soon. A… Continue reading “There is No Other Doer but He”
Watching the English
Like Paul on the road to Damascus, I know exactly when my eyes were opened. It was Monday April 3rd, on a trip to town for two significant appointments. One was to see my specialist nurse, to arrange details for my stay at Stoke Mandeville Hospital. It didn't happen then. The other was to collect… Continue reading Watching the English
Tethered to a Robo-goat
It's not curtains for me yet, much as I admire the views they bear of Chiltern scenes, as I saw again on my latest visit to Stoke Mandeville, which lasted two nights. I'll pull back the screen to show what happened. Let my goat be called Chemo. I was fed intravenously from her high-dangling udders,… Continue reading Tethered to a Robo-goat
The Exchange of Gifts
As Dr Johnson put it:Depend upon it, Sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully. Even a personal health scare, when you don’t really know what’s going on, does concentrate the mind to an extent, till you decide that it’s going to be all right… Continue reading The Exchange of Gifts
Everything fits together
Things fit together, said I. That’s what they are supposed to do, said K. If only we have faith, said I—in the right things, of course. We were having our morning tea in bed while doing the cryptic crossword, where things always fit together, if you puzzle over them enough. The clues fit the answers… Continue reading Everything fits together
The Towers of Cybele
Here's another essay written for Jacqueline Peltier's Lettre Powysienne, a little magazine in two languages for a list of subscribers. On her website you can only find her French translation, but I've fortunately kept the English original, written in 2005. When I mentioned "Amazon" in my first paragraph, she asked me to explain what it… Continue reading The Towers of Cybele
Peg, a minor character
In the last couple of days I've been horrified to discover myself becoming a hapless patient, lacking the means or strength to act in the world and thus demonstrate personhood, that prerequisite for the continued will to live. It was like being a ghost. It did not even occur to me to pray or give… Continue reading Peg, a minor character
Kindness (audio podcast)
click to to access the podcast transcript … I don’t know why, but the pain and the weariness started first thing Sunday morning, February 5th and here it is today, on the 23rd. I don’t even know what. At first, when I was told it was diverticulitis, I took the antibiotic and thought it was… Continue reading Kindness (audio podcast)
“All actual life is encounter”
We went to the Island for a long weekend with a couple of friends, staying at Mimosa Lodge, where I took a photo at dawn across the Solent from our bedroom window. Outside it was chilly and neither of us got to take photos, especially as we were acting as guides to our friends, to… Continue reading “All actual life is encounter”
Taking the Bull by the Horns
From Friday’s Daily Telegraph. The last of the aurochs died in Poland, in 1627 I’m writing this post in pen and ink† while my computer’s still at the mender’s, being restored from the wrecking job I did on its data. An ignorant computer user could never have ruined it so thoroughly, but I’ve proved the… Continue reading Taking the Bull by the Horns
Four Weddings and a Funeral
We managed to make it to his last show yesterday, but not to any of his weddings. That’s him on the left when he came to ours. We didn’t know him well but his acts of kindness were unforgettable. Often it’s the way of things that you don’t find out what a person is till… Continue reading Four Weddings and a Funeral
Via Ledborough Road
After the questionnaire, and further Skype-messaging with the lad (a good way to preserve the minutes of our meetings), it was time to meet Karleen for lunch in the pub. As usual on a Friday, I took along the 2-wheel trolley (“cart” in American). Karleen had already paid for our breadfruit, mangoes, yams & plantains… Continue reading Via Ledborough Road
Living in a body
In my last I described how a stranger’s eyes met mine in the street. I imagined that his glance said “My soul soars, but I’m stuck in this body.” I don’t claim the power to discern a person’s thought from his silent face. More likely, the thought had lain dormant in me for a while,… Continue reading Living in a body
Figures in a landscape
I was walking along the Ledborough Road this morning, past the little shops and into town. You see every kind of person, it seems, from anywhere on earth. Something struck me about one man, the way he glanced at me as I passed. It seemed to say “My soul soars, but here I am stuck… Continue reading Figures in a landscape
Etty Hillesum
It’s the second day of March, with a bit of blue sky but a biting damp wind. I walk along the Ledborough Road to the bus station, destination and agenda undecided. Why? Because I can. Whatever I can now do, one day I won’t be able to. No one knows the day, or the hour.… Continue reading Etty Hillesum
When love conquers fear
While writing in my last about “Secret Strength” I had a strong desire to talk about wartime Holland and its sufferings under Nazi occupation. In particular I wanted to share an aria on YouTube, beautiful on its own account but even more moving for this little piece of history: When the Netherlands were liberated in… Continue reading When love conquers fear
England Have My Bones
“God keep my soul and England have my bones.”—T. H. White, after Shakespeare I suppose we all have an idea of what constitutes real living. It’s not all those compromises we endure while we bridge the gap between yesterday and tomorrow. Real living is when we can say “this is it!” asking nothing from tomorrow… Continue reading England Have My Bones
Death Row
Yesterday the young man who shot 12 people in a cinema was sentenced to life imprisonment with no chance of release, though some had expected the death penalty. No one has any idea why he did it—the court said it wasn’t relevant. I wasn’t interested in the verdict or his motives. It was just a… Continue reading Death Row
The Human Condition
To be alive is such a blessing that we rarely find ourselves able to grasp it. To feel this blessing in the moment is the most precious thing I know. Briefly I wondered if it makes grammatical sense to say “It’s a blessing to be alive,” for we are not in a position to compare… Continue reading The Human Condition
“They hold life cheap”
" /> Winston Churchill in Bangalore, 1897 The subtitle of Karen Armstrong’s latest book Fields of Blood is “Religion and the History of Violence”. At the end of my last I said she was arguing the wrong case, and promised to write a follow-up post nominating the right case. This is the best I can… Continue reading “They hold life cheap”
Divine Economy?
Stepping out the door into sunshine or cloud, nothing on my mind, I marvel at what it is to be human. It’s like being in a strange land with no map. Here am I, familiar to myself. Slowly I change, but not as fast as the world around me. I'm more comfortable with things as… Continue reading Divine Economy?
Side-effects
I’m glad I went to the doctor about my backache. I feel much better now. I learned a great truth which I can’t wait to share with you. It wasn’t the doctor who revealed it, quite the reverse. But he was the catalyst—the midwife!—to my realisation.You don’t want to hear about my aches and pains,… Continue reading Side-effects
God is silent: angels are here
It's clear to me that there is no almighty God. My prayers and faith are directed towards freelance angels. I don’t know what they are “really”, only that they are real. Each one of us is vulnerable, so long as we are somewhere between birth and death. Being alive entails having everything to lose, bit… Continue reading God is silent: angels are here
Death will win
This sky is my paper, asking me to write on its clear blue surface, perhaps in sepia ink with my new fountain-pen. But it doesn’t tell me what to write. I don’t care, for my pleasure is in the writing more than the content. Gazing at the blue sky, I welcome the little clouds. Uninterrupted… Continue reading Death will win
James Lovelock – transcript of radio interview
This post somehow got lost in the conversionfrom Blogspot to WordPress. Humphrys: I’ve been talking about climate change to one of the world’s most respected scientists, Professor James Lovelock, the man who developed the Gaia theory, which says the earth functions as a kind of giant self-regulating organism. His new book is called “The Vanishing… Continue reading James Lovelock – transcript of radio interview
The Centaur
Three years ago I cured myself from a serious chronic illness; and changed my life as a result. Only now am I able to put in simple words what happened. The rider started to respect the horse. Instead of “cogito, ergo sum”, the centre of gravity became body-wisdom, the wondrous human animal. Both are joined… Continue reading The Centaur
Hole in the head
Phineas Gage was swift, capable, responsible. He was physically fit and a leader of men. These qualities made him at the age of 25 a supervisor on a Vermont railroad construction project; and might have helped him rise through the ranks to a senior management position in that branch of engineering. But the smooth track… Continue reading Hole in the head
The Snowdrop Garden
Today I walked near the house where I lived for 16 years. That’s twelve years longer than I have lived anywhere else in my life. Most of those years I was crippled by a chronic illness and longed to walk the earth freely, so that area has a special poignancy, like the view from… Continue reading The Snowdrop Garden
Seeking the sun
Today is for doing nothing. My body wants to recuperate from strained muscle and virus, which as Jim pointed out, can interact on one another and with age too. I pace from room to room, not wishing to go out into the cold damp dark day. In the house it’s dark too, a dark house,… Continue reading Seeking the sun
Fevered interlude
When you have a virus---cold or flu---it comes and goes in waves, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. I woke in the night, thinking about how to continue my memoirs. There’s plenty left in the pipeline. But after age 21 and before 59, there’s a waste land: not an arid desert, but… Continue reading Fevered interlude
The angry caning
From Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! I’ve hinted that my headmaster, Montague Brummell-Hicks, viewed me as a boy in need of control and correction. He seemed to have dark suspicions of my character and this irked me from the earliest days, for I saw there were other boys, more handsome and sunny of disposition, whom… Continue reading The angry caning
Healing
It’s not the done thing to bore the company with ongoing bulletins of one’s ailment, but when dramatic recovery is the punch-line, we can risk stretching a point. A week ago, I was troubled in mind, as I recorded in this post. I lit a candle in the church, said a prayer for the world… Continue reading Healing
Placebo
The doctor was reassuring: I could continue exercise but avoid further 4-mile walks for a bit. He scribbled a prescription for anti-inflammatory drugs, both pill and gel. In two or three days, he promised, I would be back to normal. The oracle’s verdict cheered me so much, I walked out of the surgery without limping.… Continue reading Placebo
Why pain?
Since my last I have hardly ventured outside due to a pain in my thigh. It’s not swollen and there is no bruise, just a pain sometimes severe, as when walking or standing. I suppose a muscle got pulled on Friday when I went up to that mysterious US base. Each day since recovering from… Continue reading Why pain?
Fragile
The eastern sky glowed golden yesterday morning, over the chimney pots and the tower of All Saints’ Parish Church. I saw the outline of a hundred wheeling birds, swallows I think, gathering for their departure to North Africa. Later as I went walking, some half-denuded shrubs were full of birds chirping and hopping excitedly from… Continue reading Fragile
Cause of insanity
Update on December 13th 2020: YOu don't hear the term "mental illness". It's called "mental health issues", and embraces every kind of grief, depression and general unhappiness, especially including effects of loneliness arising from precautions against the corona-virus pandemic I’ve been wondering today what mental illness is. There’s a propaganda campaign going on in the… Continue reading Cause of insanity
Death of a camera
Yesterday I managed to upset a seagull. This morning my digital camera committed suicide. I dare say an electrician would have told me not to replace the batteries whilst it was connected to a 3-volt adaptor, but this is merely a rational explanation, and electricians are notoriously cautious. They are to be trusted as much… Continue reading Death of a camera
a wayfarer’s notes 