Euan Semple's Blog, page 27

Blind side

We all have one, we just don’t know it’s there. By definition!

It’s easier to see in other people.

Imagine there is something that you take for granted, a significant concept that shapes your life and that you assume everyone shares.

And then you find that someone whom you respect, and look up to, has no idea what you are talking about.

The same is true in reverse. For everyone you know. Significant concepts that influence their every waking moment that you know nothing about, have never even heard of.

Our blind side is actually 360 degrees of ignorance.

And we think we live in a shared world.

Computer says no

Yesterday I spent an hour on the phone trying to convince Vodafone that I wasn’t asking them to give me access to my Dad’s credit card or bank details and that all I wanted was to confirm that someone was going to fix his phone line. At the end of the hour I lost it, completely. I said “I know this isn’t your fault”, but I lost it.

Today I called Daikin to book a service for our heat pump. Something they have done for each of the past four years. The person on the other line asked me to spell my name. Four times. He then said I need to check with someone. He didn’t ask for post code, service reference, unit serial number, anything. After ten minutes of canned music I hung up.

At this rate civilisation will eventually grind to a bleeding halt.

Don’t forget me

Thanks Gia

Outraged indignation

It’s almost like sex isn’t it, that rush of adrenalin and blissful release. “How could he!?”, “How dare they?!”, “What on earth is she talking about?!”, “A line has been crossed!”.

The surge of endorphins as our ego fires up for a holy war with some deserving victim. We are justified in letting go, taking the brakes off, casting aside the shackles of the social contract.

And isn’t it great, the internet triggers this every day. It’s like ego porn. We can get all of the rush with none of the risk. “These people are asking for it. Every right thinking decent person should stand up to them.”

But such indulgence takes its toll, it corrodes our self respect, it drowns out our still, quiet voice that knows better.

It’s just as well it is patient and will still be there when we calm down.

Presenting as…

In Dave Pollard’s response to my thoughts about being liked he said “When asked how I self-identify, in any context, I simply reply that I do not.”

I’m the same with nationality. I don’t think of myself as Scottish any more. In fact the concept of identifying with any nationality is a struggle.

And yet we are required, by law in many cases, to fit into these boxes which come with consequences. Big consequences- like wars.

Other people tend to get freaked out when they can’t stick a label on you. Especially bureaucrats.

Anatomy of a blog post.

Most of them start with a single thought. Calling it an insight seems pretentious but I guess that’s what it is. This mostly happens first thing as I am just waking up and I reach for my phone and Drafts (my long time favourite and most used app) to grab that thought before it disappears.

I then start riffing on the idea, still in Drafts, still on my phone as I am now, until I run out of steam. Usually almost immediately!

I then revise my wording, correct errors, and usually add lots of line breaks. Someone once, kindly, compared my blog posts to poems and I guess the process is similar – caring about what words are used, what order they come in, and giving them lots of white space and shape to clarify meaning.

I then use a Drafts action to post to WordPress where I add images or links and do a last quick check and tidy up before finally publishing.

Nothing difficult, nothing complicated. Just thought those of you considering blogging might find this useful.

Taking technology for granted.

Penny is on a sailing holiday with friends in Greece at the moment and last night we took for granted that we could have a crystal clear FaceTime call with her on the boat in Lefkas harbour.

This morning I get a call from her from a borrowed phone to say that she has left her phone somewhere in the town last night and could I help her find it. So I look up the device on Find My and sure enough there it is in a taverna in a side street. I sent her friend a screen grab of the map and she is now reunited with her phone.

What is possible is borderline miraculous.

Living the dream

Everything in our past is imagined. We retain a fraction of the already highly filtered sense perceptions that reached our brain at the time and then re-assemble and reinterpret them in this moment.

Everything in our future is imagined based on our imagined past. We try to connect the two with made up narratives and get very worried that the world won’t play ball with those narratives.

These narratives impose a linear sense of time onto life that is totally made up.

There is only now, everything else is a dream.

We spend 99.999% of our lives in that dream.

Cherish the glimpses of that 0.001% of truth, and the deep sense of peace that comes with it, that pass all too fleetingly.

Bluebell time

We are so lucky to have these woods nearby. Stunning every year.

I am a blogger

I keep thinking I should write another book.

I keep thinking I should write poetry.

In the meantime, without any should, I blog.

I am a blogger.

That should be enough.