17.39
Bredonborough.
Rising at 09.55, the same rising-time as in Funes, with a night’s sleep missing in between.
New reading…
The event of the day: a surprise birthday party for Mother-In-Law Barbara, organized by Sister-In-Law Nicola at the Angel & Trumpet Inn. Barbara’s expectation was a family lunch. The actuality: a packed affair with many old friends. Then returning here with the family…
… who left c. 17.00. A success & a good do for Barbara.
For some reason, people talk to me, endlessly. It seems that once a person has my ear, they will not leave it. I am not sure why this is so, but note it as a consistent feature over decades.
When people speak to me, I pay attention to them & what they are saying. It is also my practice to listen to myself while speaking, but few of the people that attach themselves to my ear are interested in anything I have to say. So their talking at me, unless interrupted in some fashion, does not stop. As my attention has limits, conventional social-conversing (mostly without the con-) is an exhausting process. If people speak without listening-to-themselves-while-speaking, they are not engaged with what they are saying, they are not connected to their speech act. This equates to: they are not there; they are not part of what they are doing; no-one is in charge of the talking. If there is an absence in the driving seat when an activity is underway, there is danger.
Social courtesies & good manners require us to exert ourselves in situations, such as a birthday party to honour the family matriarch, and we make a corresponding effort. Part of making-an-effort is that, when a demand for attention is made upon us, we respond to it even where the person making the demand is themselves not disconnected from it.
On the course in Funes a requirement for a personal meeting with Robert was to have an established sitting practice. The Sitting increasingly moves us towards a sense of what is real. The real includes both the possible & the impossible, and our primary contribution is to discover & act upon what is possible for me. For example, if my aim to be a professional player, am I able to give people what they want and/or what they need? Which assumes, at the least, competency on the instrument. I sat & listened to fantasy, delusions of achieving a professional life in music and how to find public acclaim (A: be superb) where there was no basis in fact for the conversation; eg instrumental facility & a talent for performance. How to give an answer, even to a dopey question, when there is no one at home to hear it?
Here it is: daily life as dreamworld, our lives utterly divorced from anything real, unless we attribute reality to fantasizing & endless wittering. There it is: imagination disconnected from the earth & practicality, helpless talking. All the stuff of a certain kind of everyday life.
To mention this, to point it out, reveals me as quite mad. Or, if a kinder word is preferred, eccentric.
A wonderful day. A terrifying day.
Social dribble dribble + travel dribble = dibble dribble dribble.
Bredonborough.
Rising at 09.55, the same rising-time as in Funes, with a night’s sleep missing in between.
New reading…
The event of the day: a surprise birthday party for Mother-In-Law Barbara, organized by Sister-In-Law Nicola at the Angel & Trumpet Inn. Barbara’s expectation was a family lunch. The actuality: a packed affair with many old friends. Then returning here with the family…
… who left c. 17.00. A success & a good do for Barbara.
For some reason, people talk to me, endlessly. It seems that once a person has my ear, they will not leave it. I am not sure why this is so, but note it as a consistent feature over decades.
When people speak to me, I pay attention to them & what they are saying. It is also my practice to listen to myself while speaking, but few of the people that attach themselves to my ear are interested in anything I have to say. So their talking at me, unless interrupted in some fashion, does not stop. As my attention has limits, conventional social-conversing (mostly without the con-) is an exhausting process. If people speak without listening-to-themselves-while-speaking, they are not engaged with what they are saying, they are not connected to their speech act. This equates to: they are not there; they are not part of what they are doing; no-one is in charge of the talking. If there is an absence in the driving seat when an activity is underway, there is danger.
Social courtesies & good manners require us to exert ourselves in situations, such as a birthday party to honour the family matriarch, and we make a corresponding effort. Part of making-an-effort is that, when a demand for attention is made upon us, we respond to it even where the person making the demand is themselves not disconnected from it.
On the course in Funes a requirement for a personal meeting with Robert was to have an established sitting practice. The Sitting increasingly moves us towards a sense of what is real. The real includes both the possible & the impossible, and our primary contribution is to discover & act upon what is possible for me. For example, if my aim to be a professional player, am I able to give people what they want and/or what they need? Which assumes, at the least, competency on the instrument. I sat & listened to fantasy, delusions of achieving a professional life in music and how to find public acclaim (A: be superb) where there was no basis in fact for the conversation; eg instrumental facility & a talent for performance. How to give an answer, even to a dopey question, when there is no one at home to hear it?
Here it is: daily life as dreamworld, our lives utterly divorced from anything real, unless we attribute reality to fantasizing & endless wittering. There it is: imagination disconnected from the earth & practicality, helpless talking. All the stuff of a certain kind of everyday life.
To mention this, to point it out, reveals me as quite mad. Or, if a kinder word is preferred, eccentric.
A wonderful day. A terrifying day.
Social dribble dribble + travel dribble = dibble dribble dribble.
