Fate & The Ending of Something That Never Really Was

You never know until it's too late
that this irresistable personality
was matched with yours by Fate

By this I mean
it's not a dream
what you feel
is real
but not supposed to begin.

It's always supposed to end.

Maybe it could try to start
if you have a particularly willing heart
but it will be short-lived.
You know it as much as I do.

You can't beat what's laid down.
If the pack of cards is wired then you'll always lose.
And life isn't a set of actions that you chose,
but something that is always meant to be the way it is.

And maybe you'll meet your match
soon or in the distant future,
but for now that dot you're chasing is ever getting smaller.
It's always going to be there though.
Always meant to end
with; just friends.

The Chase

When I was a teenager I went on a trip to the seaside. Lucky me lived far enough away from the sea to get proper snow in winter, but close enough to take a short car ride to the coast. Once there, I remember standing on the pier at Saltburn, and looking out across the vastness that is the ocean. If you look into the distance all you see is blue. It gets paler as it snakes outwards, until you can't tell which is sea and which is sky. When I stood there and looked out I had that feeling you get when you see a rainbow.

You know what I mean! You look at a rainbow, and you want to see where it ends. Not just for the silly pot of gold tale, more because...it's gotta end somewhere, right? Look I don't know that much about science but I know that a rainbow isn't a thing you can touch, it's something you perceive, it can't be chased, it can't be caught. Despite this, even now I'll look at a rainbow and want to see where it ends. One day, when I was much younger, I saw the end of a rainbow. It was going right into my next-door-neighbour's back garden. I raced down the stairs of my childhood home and announced to my family that I was going out there to find it! Rushing to the kitchen, I looked out the window and was horrified. The end of the rainbow had moved. It wasn't in the next-door-neighbour's garden anymore, it was arching down a few roads away. Needless to say, I gave up easily, I didn't bother chasing it any further.

Well, that was kinda what it was like looking out to the sea. I wanted to see the end, but I knew the horizon would only get further away. In any case, even where the sea did end, it wasn't the edge of the earth. It was only the end of one journey. And if I were to look behind me, I'd only see that horizon I was chasing again.

No, what I was more concerned with was what I would see on the other end. What was through the looking glass? I asked my Mum this very question, "If I could swim...and I swam out right now, until I came to the shore on the other side...where would I come out?" Mum said, "Norway, I think." That was it, then. I looked out again and I knew Norway was there. I could stare and stare and all I would see in the distance is nothing, but I had an answer. I could almost sense the other people on the shore on the other side. It was there.

I don't know why it meant a lot. I guess I liked being connected to the rest of the world in some way. I hadn't ever been to Norway, yet I was sharing the sea with its inhabitants.

That feeling of chasing the end of a rainbow returns time and time again. When you wonder which country would be directly underneath the spot you are standing in if you were to dig a tunnel straight through the earth. When you walk into thick fog and it's not thick at all, but you can see the thick fog right there in the distance, but when you get there it's moved further away again. When you are walking along the shoreline and the sea is just stretching out, tickling the toes of somebody else, wherever it is they are in the world.

I won't ever stop chasing the horizon, because it doesn't matter if I don't ever get there. As long as I was looking for it, I'll find the answer. It's there.

Screw Loose.

When I consider so many different aspects of who I am, most of it is a re-iteration of what already exists in the world. By that I mean, I'm nothing new. My opinions, beliefs, values and ideals are nothing revolutionary, nothing to blow your mind, freak you out when you hear what's going on in my mind. I am basically recycling the opinions and values of those who socialised me. And who are these people?

Well, look, I'm not going to go all sociological on you, and I feel no need to conduct a deep analysis from a social science angle, but let's just say that who I grew up with, who I hang out with and the things I hear/see/perceive all have some claim to the framework which I use to see the world. This doesn't particularly bother me in and of itself, I mean, that's the beauty in a way, the fact that we're all sort of joined together by an invisible web which underpins society. People look through different parts of the web, but I guarantee you, it is the same web.

The part that bothers me is how many of the values that I have been socialised to believe, without even being aware, are ridiculous when I examine them. And most of them, sexist.

Now I wouldn't call myself a feminist by any stretch of the imagination, mainly because I am probably one of the worst offenders when it comes to sexism, but now that I have discovered the pins which my values pivot upon, I have the urge to take them out. But they're well screwed on.

An example, let's see. My friend opened a bottle I wasn't strong enough to - I gave him 'man points'. I tell people to 'man up'. I find the phrase 'house husband' strange. If I see anything with more than 2 legs in the house I assume I need a man to come and kill said mini-beast...I could go on.

I don't think I could really pin point at what point I latched onto these phraseologies and values, but I don't like that they're there. I want to be free to be who I am, with or without a man, but similarly, it works the other way, men are just as free to be who they are, whether they are afraid of spiders, or can never get the lid of the jar of olives. Is it getting silly to want to ditch vocabulary like 'man up'? I don't know. I think I more want to make it known that I as a woman can man up. Women can be courageous, and strong, and provide for their own. A women is not limited to simply be the things this society say she should be. Nor is a man.

This is really just an organisation of my thoughts over the past couple of years, I'm not really coming to any hard and fast conclusions. All I know is I like being feminine, I like being a woman, and I'll never be able to get rid of spider with my bare hands... but that doesn't mean I'm not strong.

The Network

You are my best friend.
You are the person who picked up the phone when I was scared
or
the person who gave me your arms when I had nothing else
or
you are the reason I believe in humanity.

Yes, it's YOU
if you haven't yet, you will.

You might give me a laugh when I want to cry
You might send me love when all I've had is lies
You might tell me it's gonna be fine

Or

You might just smile when I pass
Maybe you sat next to me in class?
Yeah, back then, when I was too afraid to ask
you give me the courage to go back.

I'm writing this for those who see
You didn't realise it, but you believed in me
because you are a part of my history

You are practically my best friends.

My capacity to love is beyond time and space
because you are a member of the human race.

When you are the one who needs a best friend
Tell me.
Let me know.
I won't miss a beat.
Because you...

You were like my best friend.

Born This Way

So, I was just watching the Glee 'Born this Way' episode and got totally inspired for a blog post. You see it's funny what people remember about you isn't it? I don't know what people remember about me after they've met me, but thinking about all the people I know, certain things stand out. Sometimes it's what someone has done, sometimes the way someone looks, sometimes it's a positive thing, sometimes it's a negative thing.

Take my best friend for example. I have made it no secret that the first thing I thought when I met her was 'how come I know someone so beautiful?' There's something very wrong with that sentence, and it isn't my appraisal of her looks...it's just the fact that I thought there was some link between being aesthetically pleasing to the eye and social circles. When I analyse my first impression of her, what it comes down to is that she is gorgeous and I thought 'hey, this is breaking the mould, I'm usually way down in the social pile, I never know someone like this'.

Hmmm, well that's just not true. I can't think of one of my friends who isn't stunning. And I mean on the outside. So, where did this stereotype come from exactly? And why is my subconscious buying into it?

Another thing that was brought to my mind whilst considering this episode of Glee was, evidently, inner beauty. Because we're told that's what is the most important. And we're told that looks are nothing, are worthless. (It's sort of a conflicting message though when we see the perfectly formed, air-brushed celebrities on the other side of the camera. How does my subconscious war against that?) Inner beauty can't be bought and it's never a 'quick fix'. That's why it's the most difficult sort of beauty. The Glee clubbers were encouraged to boast their 'warts and all' on a plain white tee-shirt, but few were boasting flaws in their inner beauty. Kurt 'likes boys' whilst Finn 'can't dance' and Emma has 'OCD'. None of these things are their fault. But are they necessarily the things that stand out about these people?

I mean, there are people I know, for example, who I primarily remember for what they have done wrong. That's a stupid thing to remember about somebody...but it sticks in your head, doesn't it? Even though what was done was ages ago, even though the past is the past, and even though since then said person has proved to be truly beautiful on the inside...it's not forgotten.

That made me reflect on myself and my inner beauty (or lack thereof) What will I be remembered for? 'Cause if someone else was writing my tee-shirt they might plaster the slogan 'vain' or 'loud' or 'selfish' across the front, and I would have to be accountable for that. And if I were to reflect who I truly am on the inside, for every perfect part of my body there would be at least 2 eye sores to behold. I'm not sure I am beautiful on the inside, so even though I complain about the way I look as I am, I feel like I might be more ugly if my looks reflected my personality.

There's loads of things I do like about myself. I'm a positive person, and I smile a lot. And I have a moral compass, which I can generally rely on to show me where to go. But I'm a work in progress. I'm not sure if I was born this way but, who I am now isn't necessarily how I want to stay for the rest of my life. I want to be less self-absorbed, to speak out more against injustice, and to use my moral compass more widely - not just to decide what not to do, but what I should do as well.

Loving someone on the inside is about accepting someone for all their flaws, because nobody is perfect. Accepting someone for who they have been, who they are now and where they want to go. Accepting things which can't be changed about them, and things which are works in progress. The time I felt the most beautiful on the outside was when I was told all the time how beautiful I was. This suggests to me that beauty is about feeling valued. All humans have value simply because they are human. But more than that, because all humans, as humans, have value for someone else because they are who they are.

You see, I might not be totally happy with my inner beauty at the moment, but I know someone values me for being me. I know it when someone says 'thank-you' for my advice or just for talking to them when they needed a chat. And even when I mess up I know I am valued for being me because God accepts me for who I am; the best parts, the worst parts, knowing who I've been, who I am, and where I want to be. And everyday I pray for the vision to know where He wants me to be, who He wants me to be, because who better to help me address my 'inner beauty' than the Source of Beauty itself?

I think if I had a tee-shirt a la Glee it would say 'Under 5ft'. I'd rather people remembered me like that than for all the mistakes I've made.

Smile Challenge: Update

As Lent draws to a close, I find myself reflecting on the last 40 odd days, my dream, and whether I really am completely crackers.

I think the answer to that last question is a resounding 'YES'.

So, let's re-cap, my challenge was to make 132 people smile during lent 2011. I had the will, surely there was a way? I first set the rules, and made it even more challenging by including any friends added during the lentern period. In all honesty this only added the grand total of 1 extra smile into the challenge, but at least I got them smiling within hours of adding them to my friends list.

Anyway, with little more than 24 hours to go....how am I getting on?

Well, it's not going quite as badly as a car crash, but I do feel I'm up a certain reknown creek without a paddle. Numerous people have 'enjoyed' smiles this lent, but did I make them smile? It's impossible to tell. My attempts have been numerous, and the list of people who I have attempted to make smile has become smaller each day (I actually printed out a list and have been crossing people off as I go. I then realised it looked like a hit list and hastily added the title 'Lent Challenge - Make all your facebook friends smile =D' in pencil, as an afterthought)

But I'll be honest. You've not all smiled. I haven't attempted some people, time slipping through my hands so quickly, whilst others I have attempted but I feel unsatisfied that a smile has been achieved and therefore drag my feet in crossing names off. As a result, probably about 50% of my list remains. RUBBISH!

So, should I give up? NOOO! I refuse. Rather than accept defeat, I will accept that lent isn't long enough for a full time teacher and part time writer to make 133 people smile. But, I will keep trying to make people smile until this list is complete. I don't give up, and I never say no to a challenge. Yes, I wasn't exactly successful but I have so many good ideas for more smiles in the future that I sincerely hope it will be worth the wait.

As I said when I started this challenge, I'm not doing this for me really. It's more about what I can do for other people. And I've realised how diffcult it is to make people smile in an ever-changing, media-dominated, pessimism fuelled, economically challenged society such as ours. That makes it all the more important for people to enjoy smiles. I'm going to keep trying until everyone is crossed off this list. And then I'ma shred it, so no-one thinks I got rid of you all.

Apologies,

a slightly ashamed Franks xx

Falling

I am a woman of habit. Of compulsion and obsession too (oh no, it's obsession and compulsion, not compulsion and obsession, how could I have got that wrong? OBSESSION and COMPULSION) See what I mean?

Today I was walking round the glorious retail mini-paradise that is the Metro Centre and had to inform my friend that we were 'on the wrong sides' and I had to swap round from her right to her left. Seriously.

And then I was standing on the upper floor where there is a balconette type area. You can stand by a bannister thing and look down to the floor below. See the people walking. They look like tiny ants (Well, they look like people only smaller, I think I have confused myself for the BFG or something....) Anyway the point is, there I was looking down...and I wanted to jump.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am not suicidal. I have not had the best week this week but I am not a depressive. I don't WANT to injure or kill myself by falling from great heights, but....the thought was there.

Perhaps, more worringly, this isn't the first time this has happened. At University I remember we had a lecture in a large room on the upper floor of a huge building, affectionately known as 'Parky'. When I'd climbed the stairs and was leaning against the railings, looking down, I would often announce to my friends 'Don't you just feel like jumping off?' to which they would reply 'NOOO' insistently.

There was also that time I was in Tesco with my Mam. On the upper floor, surveying the clothes, I suddenly turned around to see the aisles of food below. I said to my Mum 'I just feel like jumping down' to the horror of a nearby shopper who mumbled something such as 'Oooh no I don't, it doesn't bear thinking about' wheeling her trolley away in disgust.

But I'm not mad.

Well, I am....but this has nothing to do with that.

It's that feeling of being free. Of 'I can do anything up here'. The potential adrenaline rush. The fear. The blood pumping. The lack of your comfort zone. Of just being 'close to the edge'. I just feel good like that, looking down. I don't want to jump down, I want to feel jumping down. I want to feel like I could jump down if I wanted to. Like for a second the impossible is possible, and I could defy gravity, I could prove Isaac Newton wrong, I could reach into my dreams and take a dose of fantasy, and float near the ceiling like I have there before. Everything becomes brilliant, no matter how small the gap between my feet and the floor. Everything becomes a possibility, no matter how far my feet from the ground.

I found out recently that these thoughts of jumping from a high place are linked to OCD, something which I do suffer with considerably. But I think the message of this irrational split-moment thought remains all the same. That is,we all want to feel free, to feel challenged, to feel on the edge. For things to happen for us so easily, as easily as just falling - it requires no skill, just the daring to jump.

Next time I'm hanging out my window, or walking up Roseberry Topping, I think I might refrain from launching myself to the ground on a whim. All the same, next time I'm at a metaphorical high point, with a beautiful view and the audacity to believe....I'm going to jump.