About Time! (the final entry....for now)

NB: This is my final blog in this series. So today it is a little longer. Thank you for following. I hope it has brought you some joy, laughter and pride in who you are (particularly when you compare yourself to me).

All things are affected by the passage of time, including us as a being. But in particular, this blog. Consider the following. I have mentioned while writing this blog, the various incidents where I was ‘taught a lesson’ (rightly or wrongly) by my mother, father, priest, teacher, brother, sister, even the odd uncle or aunt (actual uncles or aunts even) but especially, by some very special friends. You know who you are and that you are especially valued. No one person makes all their own decisions. No man is an island (that is a famous quote… but a really good metaphor. It’s a famous line from the poem by the English poet John Donne in "Meditation XVII," Oh, and its also a book title by a monk, a film title and a cantata… but mainly refers to the poem) and (before there is a scream from the female quarter) the ‘man’ refers to ‘humankind’ it’s just it was written in a time when that was a given… didn’t need to be politically correct. Humankind learns from interaction and social communication. Even those of us who don’t necessarily enjoy social interaction need the odd communication. While there are many craving attention from ‘everyone’, there are just as many who wish to be ‘left alone’ with a minimal amount of contact. We can be happy with that. But as we grow we learn, by listening, watching and communicating.  There are some who listen well, others who watch well (in fact my name Gregory means “He who is always watching”; sort of explains my attraction to what I used to do and in some ways what I do now), and there are still others who communicate well (I don’t but I keep trying (many people who are good at listening probably wish I wouldn’t).

As discussed there are many differences between people. How we grew up affects how we become adults. Some take longer than others. Becoming an adult doesn’t mean you stop being a child (and there are probably many wives who would agree with that comment). I mean by that, that you do not stop appreciating the value of life. The wonderful adventure that is life. Be curious about what you see. Be interested in what you hear. Learn as much as you can. Engage in ideas and create joy. This may be the only chance you get  (depending on if you hold any religious beliefs). Time is obviously precious and an incredible gift. Some of us will be able to maximise our time on this earth and others will have but a brief moment. That is why we must value it. And, in that lesson from my teacher Mr Walsh, ‘Respect’.

Respect yourself and you will respect others. Respect others and you will respect their ideas, their culture, their beliefs, Their lives. How could it possibly be any easier than that. Respect others and you respect their property and they in turn can respect you. This is surely all humankind needs to do. This will open the communication between those of us who value this life. There are those too busy to listen. Too busy to watch. Too busy to feel anything. They are the poorer, regardless of any ‘wealth’ they possess. But offer respect to all you meet. It can spread to everyone. Of every race, religion and yes, colour. For that is still a major issue today. We are of this earth. We can and need to respect it. We need to respect whom we share this earth with. By respecting each other, we are free to give help when needed, to accept help when needed and to teach each other how to help. First comes respect. All else will follow.

Thank you for joining me on this experience. Should any of you wish for a complete copy of the blog as a single document (I have saved it all in order), then please email me ( Gregory.Dwyer@bigpond.com) and I can send it to you. I have learnt a lot by this experience, by looking back at my history (as I remembered it) and for now I finish ‘The Dead Zoo Collection’ and look forward to my next project.

Yours faithfully

Gregory F.L. Dwyer

(And for the film fans out there)

                                    The End.

About Conclusions

I must admit that this blog has been of enormous benefit to me personally and also frightening, I am sure to some of you. While names have been changed where necessary (no, not really, I’m only saying that), I have received much support from many readers in many parts of the world. Alaska, Russia, Japan, USA, various European countries, South American countries and even a few in Africa to mention. A truly global feeling, in which many of you have recognised some of the events as being similar to their own, or, exactly the same. Which suggests we are not that different. Just in different locations. I am sure many readers have wondered what goes on in my head, but, because of your support, I have enjoyed reviewing some strange and excellent experiences and, at the same time, developed some good practices.  I am sure those of you relying on translation programmes however, must have come up with some very unusual phrases, in my use of the English language. I was sent this by someone in Brazil trying to understand a phrase, ‘I was hung out to dry’ (which means I was left to take the blame by others) but via the translation programme, it became in Spanish, ‘Hacia fueracolgaron para secarme’ which in English if you translated it directly back you get ‘Towards outside they hung me to dry to me’. So not only was what I was sometimes saying confusing, it could be even more confusing in foreign languages (when using translation programmes). me

But, as mentioned, towards a conclusion. In the last year of writing this blog I have been drawing on my many childhood experiences and some incidents from my youth, from some years ago. Many years ago. In fact, I am now in my fiftieth year (and living my fifty-first, since we celebrate our birthday after the year is completed. Strange that we don’t start as zero do we? But with the blog ending and my random birthday date approaching. I say random, in that my birth certificates (yes, I said certificates. I have two. Officially), don’t match, and neither does the actual calendar date I was born (mentioned in blog 5^th September 2012). But that is another chain of events. And as I get older and I have reviewed many experiences and lessons learnt in my youth, during this last year, and I have especially realised how many ways I have learnt the various lessons on life. I have had some thrilling experiences (which I haven’t necessarily included in this blog) but, importantly, I have had some unusual ones, they have added together to bring me to this moment. I know have in my mind (yes, a scary place) values and concepts which I try to apply to my living style. They are not rigid rules (even though many think I am black and white in my choices) They are not like the list of 42 lessons from the 90 year old woman (yes, I have received that email many times. Some good lessons in them though). But they are important to me, and more importantly, how I treat others. Why I value my close friends and perhaps, why they see some value in me. So tomorrow, the final of this blog, I will summarise what lessons this past year (and the past fifty) have resulted in.

(Concluding tomorrow)

About Blogging

There are not only big gaps in what knowledge is passed on, but solutions to some problems as well. Problems which, had previously been solved when occurring, are now having solutions being ‘re-invented’ as no one of that young work force remaining (see yesterday’s blog), knew about it previously. Simply because those who did know, had all been dismissed. Time teaches many things. Among them, knowledge, quality, skills. You do not develop full knowledge overnight, or simply because you are young. Time requires effort, to achieve. In today’s world such effort seems to be disappearing rapidly. Even this effort has been interesting for me. The old saying of the longest journey beginning with a single step applies. The journey is not even close to being finished, but I am on my way. Because of a little bit of effort.

I decided a year ago, I needed to get back into the practice of writing again. I had previously (and constantly) made excuses as to why I couldn’t. I was simply letting myself down. So, I began with something that meant I was ‘locked in’. Using a method, which possessed a certain demand. A method, which insisted I produce something every 24 hours, and post it, before the server ticked over it’s internal 24 hour clock. Then I promised myself, I would write it for a year. Three hundred and sixty-five entries. One per day. The interesting thing, when I started, I had not checked on the actual location of the server. After my first few entries, I was able to establish…. it wasn’t in Australia. And quickly discovered, it was somewhere on the West coast of the United States. That left me out in my entries by one day. So I delayed for a 24 hour period. Which meant, once I got ‘in sync’ with the dates, I was ready to begin my run. I had to ensure I posted before 4pm each day. So, generally I posted it around 6:15am, allowing for the likelihood of an average work day (however, there is nothing average about my day), and usually, after walking the dog, which I do as early as possible (around 5:30am which is usually the one time of the day I am not ‘called out’ as a rule), and, prior to going for my daily 1.5km swim, which I have to have finished by 7:30am (if on a day shift).

This meant regardless of what time I finished work, which could be anytime into the late evening or even the following early, early morning, I had to write the blog entries before bed. Adding to this time schedule, there was the odd trip away where technology and access to international internet systems proved a little challenging on occasion, not to mention datelines and time zones affecting when it had to be done by (or where my bed may be). But now, after 362 continuous daily entries, these will be the final few blog entries (at least for a while). Those of you following my blog, I thank you. Warmly. It has been an interesting journey and I believe, is only the launching point. But as this draws to a close, there should be some conclusion?

(Continued tomorrow)

About Experience

I guess, while I have nothing against people making a living, where a living can be made (even if the living is made because people are dying), what I struggle with is profiteering. I have never been a fan of people making money at someone else’s expense. I have never sold something for more than I paid for it, particularly if I had had good use from it. You remember I mentioned I don’t own a house. I would struggle with the idea of ‘marking up’ something I had used, just because other people are. I understand that people want to upgrade, but that means they want more for where they are. Not because where they are has necessarily got any better than when they bought it. It’s just they need more money to upgrade. I couldn’t. So, I would be hopeless as a landowner. While I may criticise what people do to get money from others, sometimes there are those who just push the ‘edge of the envelope’ a little too much. I remember when the world famous ‘attention seeking’ David BeckhamBeckham makes so much money, that it probably didn’t seem strange to him. Sadly though, and this is the point, it was dreadful haircut. If I had cut his hair (I probably would have done just as good a job, or better, as I would have had pride in my work) I personally would have been embarrassed by the quality if it had been me. It was dreadful. Overcharged for poor quality. That same issue I raised. Quality is falling off, but people are accepting it. (yes, admittedly, he could kick a ball really well) got a hair cut that cost two thousand pounds (about four and a half thousand dollars at the time). But for him, two thousand pounds was possibly on par with me paying eighteen dollars for a haircut (which I stopped doing as I bought a trimmer for twenty six dollars) David

It’s time we stopped. I doubt we will. The rush to attain, to possess, has reached a disease of endemic proportion. People don’t want to wait for anything and all of this adds to the stresses people face daily. Many parents say to me they bought this or that, because their child wanted it. Think about the word. ‘Wanted’. Not, ‘needed’. I have previously touched on this several times. We have literally spoilt our current generation. We have given them, without them earning. We have taught them the price of things, but not the value. Mass production has lowered quality. Skills, have also been severely lowered as the knowledge, which takes time to learn, has been ignored or even more sadly, discarded. There was an old saying of the ‘blind leading the blind’. I have recently seen this, as senior, very experienced people, were dismissed from the workforce due to ‘budget cuts’. They take with them a wealth of knowledge, which has not been learnt by the young work force that remains. The new people are now being taught by the only ‘slightly’ more senior members, who do not possess a half of the knowledge that the dismissed people had. The quality of what they do falls. Remember knowledge is acquired over time. But, if we do not make time for that?

(Continued tomorrow)

About Funerals

But regardless of how people choose to live financially (most living on credit more than earnings), with more and more living towards the ‘poverty line’ (often through their own poor choices), it is greed shown by people that appears to have increased dramatically and contributed to the demise of quality and in many cases, happiness. Time is not valued anymore. It is calculated. An example: In the last five years there has been an enormous jump in the promotion of funeral insurance (yes, a set market. We are all going to die.) But what bothers me is the prohibitive rise in the cost of burying someone. Do we honestly need a three thousand dollar coffin to be put into the ground? Or easier, cremated? You are dead (Seriously, it won’t be your problem), but the marketing is all centred on not wanting to leave your loved ones with debts. Debts? Surely it can’t be that expensive? Fact:Everyone is going to die. Now according to capitalist concepts, wasn’t mass production meant to reduce costs? At least that was what I was taught. So, if everyone is going to die, then shouldn’t dying be one of the cheapest things that is out there?

Although if that were true, then disposable nappies, which everyone seems to be using in Australia today (once again laziness rather than efficiency. Cloth was good enough for me, good enough for my son, it just meant having to work a bit). They should also be very cheap, but they’re not? Of course, there’s money to be made, because everybody wants them! Market supply and demand.  However, can anyone tell me what really costs at a burial? Or better yet, a cremation. I mean break it down. The body is dead. It gets collected. Gets a wash and a clean up. Put into a nice suit/dress which is provided by the family, not even provided by the undertakers and then put in a wooden box in a church/hall before being put into a high temperature furnace. So apart from hiring the big taxi to move you, which could cost around 800 dollars for the day (ever hire a stretch limo?) the hall hire costs are around 300 dollars  maximum. Ask anyone who’s hired a hall for a party (and you know you will be getting the bond back, funerals don’t tend to have marauding drunken yobs breaking furniture). Then maybe the electricity/gas cost for the furnace, well, my last power bill for three months was three hundred and fifty dollars, so lets put that down as the extreme. Undertakers, times two, for the initial collection at around fifty dollars an hour. We’ll round this out to four hundred dollars of actual work. I can’t see why it should cost more than around two thousand at the most. Let’s face it. You’re going to be burned up. Unless you own a burial plot now, you won’t be able to afford the rates or land value later. So you’ll be put into a box and burnt to ash. But the undertaker will probably try and sell you a ‘hand-carved African mahogany urn’ for your ashes at around $1,400. (Probably made in some small Philippines jungle community from felled rain forest timber, for thirty Philippine pesos or about 70cents Australian)

(Continued tomorrow)

About Patience

Patience is a virtue. My mother constantly told us. I wonder which nun had drummed that into her in her youth. Patience appears virtually non-existent today. Time and patience appear to have gone off down opposing paths. It’s a sad story. I recall a time when they were like new found friends. Walking hand in hand. Enjoying each other’s company. Creating new ideas, developing concepts and projects. Together. Slowly, Over time and with patience. Delighting in the time taken to make something of quality. To produce a work of art, or a genuine product that had a real lifetime of use, not an item which would survive (barely) to the moment, the very second after the warranty expires. Patience and Time wandering through my youth. Communicating with each other on equal terms. Then, somewhere along the way, probably towards the end of the twentieth century, something happened that pulled them apart. Greed was one affecting factor. Greed drove a wedge between them. They were forced down those opposing paths. Quality which had become a friend was abandoned. Time was sent off spiralling down a slippery slope. Patience was crushed. You can see it all around you today.

How has this affected us? For example, we are told by many in today’s modern world that due to the cost of wages, we cannot afford to make most products in Australia today. The time taken to make something makes the cost exorbitant. Hang on. Don’t we have this completely wrong? They claim we take too long to do something. That is not the problem. The problem is greed. Plain and simple. People today want EVERYTHING. They all want it NOW. INSTANTLY. They do not want to wait for something. They do not want to earn it. They do not want to spend time to acquire it. They do not want to pay the price they should pay to get it. That’s why we don’t make things in Australia. They have to have the ‘best’ and ‘latest’ now. Unfortunately this has changed the meaning of ‘the best’. In fact, because of demand, quality has almost vanished. The markets are flooded with cheap imitations of original items, that may once have been a quality item.

Demand. Even the word sounds aggressive. There was a era (even in my youth, not so long ago) when people developed their skills, over time. They slowly worked at getting better at what they did, made, produced or created. Now it seems they want it done immediately. They do not buy that single chair for their house, which was how I started when flatting. As I could afford it (there being a big part of the difference) I added to my flat. Today, people borrow ‘on credit’ so they do not have to wait. They want it Instantly. Instant food, instant materials, even, instant buildings. There is now a prefabrication system in Japan, where a person can walk into a showroom on Monday, and walk into their completed house on Friday. Two stories, eight rooms. Basically it is four or eight pods of cement joined together, and the interiors finished as per your selection on Monday. All you have to do is have a slab of cement and the water and electricity connections ready to be attached. Frightening concept when you think about it. But you get it NOW. You don’t have to wait. You don’t need to worry about patience. Or time. Until the repayments.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Persona

Time is simply a scale. Time won’t tell, but the passage of time will allow us to. We are the ones who will tell what we have done with it. We are the ones who will judge (or be judged). We are the ones who will need to account, to ourselves at the very least, to our family at the worst. Don’t worry about what the rest of the world thinks of us, you can’t do much about that. We will have to account for what we do, what we have done and how it has affected others. I’m not talking the final judgement day or anything, but the accounting we do when we look back over our time. Whether we are held to account, or hold ourselves to account. Time and history will provide a scale for us to understand how we used our time. Effectively, compassionately, for some, violently. But how do we see ourselves, regardless of how others see us. Can we look back over our time with pride? Or with shame? Are there personal ‘successes’, and how do we look at our ‘failures’? Are we satisfied we did the best we could with what we had, or, did we try harder for what we didn’t. Many people comment that coming second is never as good as winning. I think, if you were in the race, you achieved.

There have been many, many stories, books, films, and television series which have explored human history. Often it has centred around one iconic figure. Famous, or infamous. But it has looked at the influence of that person on those around them. Seldom do such programmes look at the ‘actual’ person. We are instead shown the perceived ‘persona’ often interpreted many years later. We can’t ever understand what the actual person thought or what desires drove them to behave as they did. We cannot get inside the head of someone who is no longer alive. We can read their writings and perhaps glean a certain understanding. But even then, today it is individual researchers, not major media who can present a truer picture of any individual, rather than the perceived image of that individual. But all of this occurs over time.

I know speaking personally, I do not yet use my time as effectively as I should.

People always laugh at how I don’t appear to sleep much. I do, it just seems that whenever people talk to me I am awake (not as strange as it sounds). To always see me awake… they must have been awake too. Logically. I am awake at odd hours and for long (sometimes very long) periods of time (sometimes because of the job, sometimes not) but I would still sleep for about six hours a day. Usually. Sometimes. They also say that I work too much (a lot of it unpaid, one of the problems with loving your job). That could be true, but the essence of that is, I am always trying to learn something else. Yet, I honestly believe I probably waste half my time. I am still learning to use it better, but it isn’t easy.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Scales

I am very aware of time. Time passes. Time, passes. Dylan Thomas brought that phrase so much meaning in his wonderful poetical drama ‘Under Milk Wood’ two simple words, repeated, signifying that long passing of the night. Time indeed passes. Sometimes, far too quickly, other times at an incredibly slow rate, or so it seems. We know, using the modern measurements, that the time scale we use today, is no different to the time scale we worked and played under as a child. It just seems that way. I know as a child (as you have seen throughout my blog during this past year), I have spent many hours thinking (thinking why am I the one to get in trouble again). And, many hours standing (standing in my room thinking, why am I the one to get in trouble again). And many, many moments waiting (waiting in my room, to see what my punishment would be getting for being the one to get into trouble again). As time passed me by. And it has. Many seconds, minutes, hours, days and yes, many, many years. Many years to make decisions, that also affected me over the years. I have taken some unusual paths during my lifetime. Making different choices. And the great thing about that is, time passes. You don’t go back. You go forward. You stand by your decisions. There are consequences to those decisions. And the amazing thing is, sometimes, it takes years before you find out the consequences.

For example, I was too lazy to properly learn a language. I have grown up in (as mentioned) countries where English is the dominant language, so I didn’t have to learn a language. My parents both came from English speaking backgrounds (Of course, my mother spoke the ‘Queens English’ my father spoke New Zealand English). I regret not learning a language. And having taken up certain travels, met very interesting people from other countries, I discover that I want to understand them more. The best way is to understand their language. So, now getting on in years (heck, in some countries I’m a senior citizen) I have since made several better efforts to learn a language, and am starting to get the idea.

But all of this relates to that underlying method by which we understand humanity. The most ‘human’ of our scales. Time. For this reason history to me is essential. Understanding history, in it’s many forms. Not just my history (as much fun as I have had in relating it as I hope you have had in reading it). But all history. We came from somewhere. And time will tell if we are going somewhere. At our current rate of ‘worldly’ consumption, of resources and social behaviours, I do truly wonder. But time is how we, as people, judge many, many things. Life. Relationships. Health. Success. We can look at these as single moments. But, we also look at these over ‘time’. ‘Time will tell’ is a classic comment of social awareness. And even if time does, it’s not time that does the telling.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Time

Have you noticed that ‘time’ is featuring prominently in these observations of mine concerning communication again. From the ‘time’ children need to communicate, to how media is presenting ‘information’ in the ridiculously brief spasm of commentary. Even commercials are generally 30 secs, so why are news comments so brief? Like a military commander to the ‘grunts’ (infantry soldier – old school), or your parents, when wanting an answer to a question, they do not want to give you ‘time’ to think about what has been said. They want an instant reaction. Unquestioned. Do you recall your parent’s response, in answer to your question of “Why?”, when they asked you to do something?  Their response was “Just do it”? (Just remember it probably wasn’t a Nike boss who said ‘Just do it’, it was probably an advertising salesman. In fact it was probably an advertising salesman whose parents had said it so often it was ingrained in his ‘pysche’, who said, to a Nike boss, “How about, ‘Just Do It’? And a Nike boss (because his parents had probably said the same thing to him, when he was a child and asked ‘Why?”) who said to the advertising salesman …Sounds good. ‘Okay’).

Even in ‘criminal offences’ time taken to react to something is brought into account. Assaults for example. In many defences they claim the person reacted instantly. They did it without thinking (seldom, it has been my experience to observe, without drinking though). But it is ‘Time’, which the defence use. They say that things would have been different if their client had had ‘time’ to think about their reaction to something, before committing the assault. Perhaps if their ‘client’ had taken the time to think how much alcohol they were consuming, before they chose to commit the assault, the situation would have been different too. Time. Do we use it effectively? Seldom.

I have a dentist, who made a decision a few years ago. He halved his client list. Just like that. He got rid of those clients who ‘wasted his time’. Who failed to pay on time, who ignored his advice, and used up his time getting repairs, that would have been unnecessary if they had done as he had told them. And do you now what he discovered? Yes, he earned less money. A lot less. But, he finds he does things with the time he freed up. He now stops for lunch during the day. He reads during his lunch hour. He has learnt to play an instrument. And best of all? He smiles. He is now twice as happy as he ever was. That was making use of his time. Some years ago, in my travels, I met a ‘journeyman’ of Japanese Bunraku puppetry. A wonderful traditional art form. I asked when speaking with him after a stunning performance, when had he learnt to ‘master’ the skill. He told me he was not a master, he was an apprentice. He told me had become an apprentice when he was eighteen years old. He was now fifty five years old. He said he would become a master, when he thought he was ready. He understood time better than most.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Media

One of the significant problems with Political Correctness is this constant singling out of a single word or even a phrase, particularly by the media. They are generally not interested in the actual context of whatever was being said, particularly by ‘important people’ since they are only looking at a 7 second ‘sound bite’ for their programme that will generate the most ‘news’ attention (and for news today, lets read gossip. I mean since when did someone being ejected from a cooking programme rate as news?). The media today don’t want the facts (or very seldom). Facts don’t sell. Tragedy sells, and the media will grab that. The running, microphone-bearing news presenter, will rush up to the devastated, shell-shocked individual, as quickly as possible. Thrusting the furry covered microphone at the bewildered victim and asking a ‘news worthy’ question, such as, “So, how does it feel to have your daughter run over by the drink driver?” Seriously? Where is the news in such an emotionally charged atmosphere. The media want shock. They want something that will fill in the seven seconds of attention, which a ‘promo’ will generate. To generate audience numbers, to sell advertising. It appears that audiences concentration have seriously deteriorated. For the most part it has been reduced to just seven seconds. The announcer says “and in parliament today Mr/s/iss (whatever is politically correct on the particular day) said, I don’t agree with Mr/s/iss. They then cross to the actual footage where the person on the screen says, “I don’t agree with Mr/s/iss” When did it all go so wrong?

There was a time when I was younger, when a single presenter presented the news. For half an hour. There were no advertisement breaks during the news. The news was read to viewers, without any ‘crossing live’ to someone in the field, at the scene or, with the victims. We heard the news, and it was news. We heard who said what, to whom and what the response was. If there was footage, that played while the rest was read. We did not need one person at the courthouse, one person outside the victims house and then one person somewhere else. And that’s just the start. It’s going downhill from this.

In politics news in the media, I have rarely heard anything of achievement in the last year, that was not a snatched excerpt from possibly a significant policy, where the person speaking said a word or such out of place that was not thrust out by the media as “news” while the actual policy or context of what the speaker was saying was ignored. Not satisfied with that, the other media outlets, who may have missed catching the word or phrases, but, recognising the potential to ‘grab audience numbers’ jumps on board, not even bothering with what the rest of the information was, but creating entire ‘news reports’ based solely upon what was said ‘accidently, inadvertently or generally as a part of a greater whole. The media are like standby, unemployed gravediggers, who are simply waiting, with shovels poised, to bury anyone who makes an inappropriate comment, phrase or word as quickly as possible regardless of the real facts.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Rules

But we are back to this issue with time and communication. If we could give a child sufficient time to respond to questions we ask them, in their own way, instead of rushing them for a response, would they become better communicators. Mr Walsh taught me something of considerable importance that day (see blog Sunday 3^rd February), because he took the time to talk to me and, to ensure I heard what he had to say as well as understanding it. The many nuances of language, the gestures, tones, emotions form the complexity of communication. When a component is missing, it becomes more difficult, unless you are paying close attention. Watching a Mime as mentioned, you rely on the visual information and the emotion. This is one reason why they traditionally have a white face. This is to emphasise the indicators of expression. White face, red lips, outlined eyes in black and black eyebrows (well above the normal position). On the white canvas of the face a very slight movement of the eyes, mouth or eyebrows, creates a clear emotional response plainly visible to the viewer (even over a distance). A ‘viewer’ who takes the time to watch a mime, is seldom uninformed in what occurred, when they stop watching (Whether they admit they liked it or not. Generally they will not admit they liked it, but no doubt they will retell what they saw to their friends, and depending on their friends reaction, they will decide as to whether it was really funny, really sad, or really brilliant when they tell them).

Communicating with people close to you, can be difficult. Today it appears there is more confusion in the variety of communication methods available. There is constant misunderstanding in emails, text messages, and social media (sometimes to excessive lengths). Much of this is resolved in later face to face situations, but again highlights the need for visual assistance to understand the actual messages. There has been an enormous spike in bad behaviour between people using many of the social media options and also those misunderstandings which occur, using electronic media in the workplace. Even telephone calls do not cause as much distress, as you are able to ‘hear’ the emotion in the voice of the person you are talking to (Despite the fact the frequency of the voice you hear is limited by the phones receivers and transmission systems). Of course, there is still the ability to ‘pretend’ emotionally on the telephone when you speak with someone (until you hang up). Then there is the effect ‘Political Correctness (P.C.) has, and how that has destroyed many areas of communication. Today irrelevant of context (which to me is where P.C. should only be applied), people appear to jump on a single word in a communication if it is perceived as being racially or culturally insensitive, or offensive for reasons of sexism, occupational specifics, gender or sexual orientation. Or if it offends certain other religions, beliefs or ideologies, disabilities, or, has age-related contexts. P.C. generally ‘infers’ doing so excessively, but people today are very concerned over even the smallest phrase once (usually unnecessarily).

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Components

The problem that had been raised by the two deaf operators, in the furious attack on each other’s puppets, then on each other, was ours. For unconsciously relying on what we did in everyday communication, but in this case, when communicating and working with an ‘extension’ of our persona. The aides and even the teachers had been surprised with how quickly the incident had occurred, when the two puppets had done their initial greeting and suddenly had run out of ‘story’. Our fault was forgetting momentarily that communication is a very, very complex combination of so many areas. Visual, verbal, aural (yes, there is a difference between the two), emotional and one other important factor I will come to in a moment.

Think of this sentence. “Stop! What are you doing?” Think first how many way’s it can be said. The ‘Stop’ could be a command. It could be shouted, screamed, laughed or even cried in the method of delivery. Each change in the delivery of the single word would have a completely different meaning. It could be said in a placatory tone. It may be you also need to gesture to emphasise how it should be understood. The hand coming up sternly, two  hands in a self effacing manner, or waving away the word. And that was just the first word in that sentence. And as yet, there has been no mention of any facial expressions that may be involved, which generally, add understanding when communicating. The levels of complexity involved in delivering a single word, are exponentially increased when delivering an entire sentence.

Many people, though I have never fully understood why, dislike Mimes (but even I laughed at the scene in ‘Tootsie all those years ago). Those poor (although some do make quite a good living at it), mistreated, silent warriors of ridicule. The performers who, have the ability to project an understanding of imaginary existence to their audience, or passers by. While people may scoff at them, those same people are usually able to imagine exactly what the Mime is doing. What is it people don’t like about them? Is it the fact they are silent? Is it, that an important component of normal communication is missing? Is it that these same people understand them, yet often have trouble understanding someone they can actually vocalise with and hear? Communication occurs on so many levels, that when it is effective do we understand why. This brings me to that missing component I didn’t mention before, and directly relates to the issue we have discussed that last few days, concerning children and communication. Time. Time to deliver the communication.

There is no doubt in my experience, that time is the one factor that interferes most with being understood. People give other people deadlines, to deliver their communication. How often have you heard someone respond to your question, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” and they answer with a glance at their watch and the response “Okay. But make it quick!” Does that mean they want to only talk to you for a quick minute? How can a minute be quick? Time moves at a particular set divided means (we decided to record it that way).

(Continued tomorrow)

About Communication

The ‘making puppets’ part of the workshop was entertaining. Simple rod puppet concept with a ping pong ball on a stick, as the starting point for every puppet. It was very encouraging to see the enthusiasm and creativity of these children as they fully engaged with the basics, the fabrics and wools, the pens and glues. Original puppets sprouted up about the room as each child created the puppet they imagined from the array of items available. The puppets were then left on stands, to allow the glued items and parts to dry.  As usual, with many craft areas involving young children, some glued bits fell off as that issue over ‘surface and ratio area to glue’ fell well short of expectations. But nearly all puppets were ready after the lunch break. This was where I learnt an important lesson in communication.

For the next thirty minutes, the children were paired off, or those who wished, put into groups of four or more and then worked on a story their various puppets could present. The idea that the children would develop their limited communication skills further through telling a story with the puppets. You would think this a simple concept. Some involved the teacher aides, to establish a story (several appeared to be based on the old fairy tale “Goldilocks and the three bears, or at least one persons puppet being scared by several other puppets). It was very quickly realised that many of the children, while delighted in their individual puppets, were somewhat perplexed in how they would communicate with the other puppets. I very quickly saw the issue. The limit that these puppets put on children, already with limited vocabulary, or I observed the link between the limit certain communication skills these deaf children had, which many others take for granted.  It took all of ten seconds where one puppet approached another and was ‘shaken’ by the child operator (as if to say “hello”). The other operator also ‘shook’ their puppet (‘Hello”) then they mimicked a moment from my show, where the two puppets ‘embraced’ (side to side European cheek kissing style).

Then it all went wrong, as, with verbal skills insufficient to enhance the ‘play’, of  a well established storyline, meant there was a break in the communication. The puppets (and the puppet’s operators) stopped communicating. Each deaf child was visually focusing on their puppet and not the other person, as a result, they were not ‘listening’ to the other operator. I know they couldn’t, but this is the point. Communication does not take just one form. Unfortunately, one puppet immediately head-butted the other in an angry, violent way, and the operator also growled angrily at the other’s puppet, which took most of us by surprise. The puppet, which had been attacked, immediately attacked the other, and both puppets were quickly striking each other and then each of the other operators. While bits of fabric, buttons and glued bits started flying, the limit these deaf children had in communicating, without the ability to hear the other child, or to engage through an external method, created massive misunderstanding and confusion. It took some time to calm the operators down. But it took longer for us to understand the complexity of the situation.

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Details

If you followed on from yesterday’s blog, regarding the child’s toy and based on the information provided, there are hundreds of options available to you from the communication methods given. The use of the word ‘arms’ in the child’s description, does not indicate humanoid alternatives as the only option. A child seldom refers to an animals limbs, as legs, but more often as arms, so it may still have been an animal the child was describing. So any clearer on the toy? And yellow? While there are a wide range of colours that are yellow. Generally children are fairly honest when it comes to colour. So you can trust the yellow as being yellow. In fact ask a child to describe a tree, and they first word many throw up is ‘Green’. Let’s face it, most trees are green at some point. The ‘fuzzy’ on top? Furry? Hairy? Coarse fluff? The choices for this are far less clear. Even ‘squishy’? What can that be? Does it mean water-logged? Easily squashed? Understanding adjectives from a child's viewpoint, and understanding the child's limited vocabulary, can add enormous variations to interpreting their answers and information.

So this effort to communicate with a child at the child’s pace, added to the time issue, makes communicating effectively with children, exceptionally difficult. Therefore, it is easier to rush the child’s response, and not to ‘listen’ completely to it. This can, and does lead to misunderstandings and can seriously jeopardise a child's confidence in communication. It can be that simple. Many years ago I used to work with puppets, both marionettes and hand puppets. I used to runs workshops and training skills events about making and operating puppets. The reason I bring this up was to do with communication. After many shows and workshops I was asked to do a workshop with a group of profoundly deaf children (yes, they were deaf, not hearing impaired, and they knew it). Not a problem I thought. I understood there would be assistance from the children’s teachers and aides.

The children watched the revised show I presented (cutting much of the dialogue and add libs I used to do naturally) The translator worked very hard presenting the lines of the different characters. Particularly as I did not travel with a hard copy version, with the script in my head, having been learnt prior to touring. I had not thought this would be necessary. I was not touring internationally with the show and it was in an English speaking country (whoops, there I go, politically incorrect again…) In a country where English was the dominant’ language (seriously, doesn’t the politically correct version, even sound more political?) The children laughed at the various antics of the characters, the visible interaction, laughing at the obvious comedy lines the translator signed for them. But there was a limit. In some parts the children did not have the necessary vocabulary to understand some of the story, some of the signs they did not get. But between the actions and the visuals and the ‘gist’ of the story the performance went well. Then came the workshop with the children.

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Answer

Just staying with the response from a young child which was mentioned yesterday. Perhaps the biggest problem in communicating with children is time. We find it difficult to find the time to let the child response at their own pace. This happens very early on in childhood. The parent can be busy with their day’s schedule, and trust me, the only way you can get through the day with a child requires at least a mental schedule. Even if within the first couple of minutes its thrown totally ‘out of whack’ by the child discovering the shampoo (that’s the entire bottle) tipped into the bath creates an enormous amount of suds. Or that the dog likes the meat (that’s the entire family’s dinner) from the fridge as well as anything else dropped on the floor. How some parents get themselves dressed in the morning while managing a two, three or four year old at the same time is pretty clever. The fact that there were four of us under seven in our family (part one), means that our mother relied on the older children to assist the younger ones to get ready. We never went out in dirty clothes, without shoes or without faces washed. So why has it become so hard today for parents to have a child washed and cleaned when they step out. Social standards have definitely fallen, as has personal pride in how you present yourself or family. But a child can definitely throw a preparation schedule out in seconds.

However, it is time that appears to be the biggest problem when a child is communicating, or at least trying to. It is not always possible to wait patiently for the response from a child. They do not understand the need to give a rapid response, just because the listener is trying to get something done (something that is probably essential to maintaining their life or such). They are struggling with a certain amount of information overload themselves. Sifting through their developing communication skills, sorting out the related visual interpretations, with the aural information they received. Identifying their emotional responses and the physical experiences. Trying to evaluate all of the inputs to create an output. And that just relates to the question asked….. “Did you finish your cereal?”

But, if we could make the time to actually allow the child to generate the response they wish to make, and really listen to what they say. Really listen to their response, wouldn’t they develop as more accurate and confident speakers generally?  It is interesting to hear a child, when asked to describe something they cannot see, just what they select as necessary information. The idea of asking a child to describe their favourite toy may produce the following response, along the lines of “Its nice, it’s fluffy on top with…squishy arms and yellow. And it’s really, really yellow and happy” So, you have the description. What is it? The only relevant direct information provided to the adult listener is that it is yellow, and has arms. There is an additional piece of information in that it is fluffy on top and the arms are squishy. So, what is the child’s favourite toy?

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Tell

When a child is still learning to control their emotions, it is usually quite easy (for parents at least) to identify when they are concerned about something, hiding something, or straight out lying. If you wanted to survive in a large family, skillful, harmless lying was fairly important. Not to make anyone else get into trouble deliberately, necessarily (even if that was an occasional result), but more to limit the amount of collateral damage that could affect you. The art of ‘keeping a straight face’ took time to acquire the basic skills necessary to present it. In the meantime, practice would be required. I am sure you have stood before a mirror (probably many times as an adult) to observe how you present a verbal piece to ‘someone’. Practicing a job interview, an important message to your partner, or even trying to see if the expression is sincere, heartfelt, or are you giving away something in your eyes, or producing a tell. Tells can be interesting. Today I have a fairly good skill at recognising people’s tells. In my job it helps (No, I am not a full time poker player). Most tells are associated with the eyes and face, others with minor physical movements of the body. Sometimes they can seem to be totally insignificant and they have often been developed unconsciously over many, many years. The possessor is usually unaware of it. It is simply a natural response to the brain’s message to the psyche. A bit like a little mental ‘face-slap’ that causes an involuntary flinch somewhere in the body, face or particularly the eyes. It can be minute, or simply create a reaction from the 'tellee' that is obvious.

With children, the tells are usually very, very obvious. They know from the first few words they are taught as toddlers, when they have done the wrong thing. So, when asked “What did you do?”, they react with a tell, usually by a physical response first. A classic is the child who looks away with their whole body, twisting their head up and turning their body away, but usually keeping their feet in one place. This occurs the moment they are asked to say what happened. This can be a combination of memory placement recall (the old concept of looking up to the left to remember or to the right to imagine an answer…. Or is it the other way around? I won’t tell). It can simply be physical embarrassment for the child, or, mild ‘interactional’ fear (even with your parents… in fact usually the fear one, was with the parents more than visitors). These very obvious ‘tells’ in children can develop quickly into significant habits in the child, some which may become extreme such as, anxiety, apprehension, stutters/stammers (yes, there are many other reasons for stuttering, I know), which some parents then try to stop. They try to alter the child’s natural behaviours. This can affect the actual communication skills of the child, which may have developed or not.

All the child was usually trying to do was to sort the necessary ‘required’ information for the questioner, from the actual information. Not dissimilar to the ‘practicing in front of the mirror’ as an adult. Selective editing of message and the associated non verbal cues.

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Brain's Message

I arrived at home, somewhat subdued, following my afternoon class and the clear conversation/lesson from Mr Walsh. He had said he would not tell my parents what had occurred and I believed him. Well, I wanted to believe him. I really wanted to believe him. I knew if my parents found out that I had stolen some money (even though I had shared out what I bought with everyone -I keep reminding you of that …which in a bizarre way made everyone an accessory after the fact. Even though I was the only one spoken to by Mr Walsh), however, if my parents had been told I had stolen something, or found out I had stolen something, I would be in for a considerable amount of punishment. What that would involve I didn’t want to think about, but, you do, don’t you?

Whenever there is something serious that has peaked your interest, whether it is a serious incident, worry or fear, you can’t ‘not’ think about it, or worry about it. Many adults have had others say to them, “Don’t worry about it”. From apparently non-involved persons, who upon hearing of someone’s personal concerns (breathe a sigh of relief that it’s not their problem). So, that’s easy for them to say. But the way the human mind appears to work (when it does), is that a single thought dominates other thoughts. And something that is significant, such as a concern over finances for example, tends to dominate everything else. The human mind has the ability to manage millions of thoughts at the same time (for some people). But, unerringly the human mind tends to focus on something of concern. Even when we sleep, our minds don’t.

How often have you gone to bed concerned about something from your day and fallen asleep (eventually), only to enter into a dream/nightmare, which if examined, was probably a direct link to the issue of concern. Though it can be hidden in the interpretation. The worry over money for example may not feature in the dream as actual money. It may be in your dream you are left in charge of something. That is not physical money. It may have been, for example,  a goose (can you see the link?) The goose may be being chased by various predators, while in the dream you are constantly being distracted from actually protecting it. It may be you are having to complete a fence or building or such and can’t find the tools, materials or location. Simple explanation? The goose was from your childhood memory of the golden goose from ‘Jack and the beanstalk” which of course laid golden eggs. Hence that was the ‘subliminal’ symbol for the money. The ‘predators’ are those causes concerning you e.g.banks, loan, fees or bills, hence, multiple predators. The distraction or ‘fence’, is the knowledge you already possess to solve the problem, but haven’t yet concentrated on. Because you are focusing on the problem, not the solution. So, while trying to sleep, your body responds to the automatic breathing functions etc, whilst your mind begins to sift and sort the thousands of memories you possess, to compile something that it believes your psyche can interpret. Unfortunately that is not always the case.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Feeding

In fact speaking of sharing and foodstuffs, just today I stopped for breakfast at a roadhouse style cafe. Okay, it was sort of a café, that is a road house… or a roadhouse that thinks it is a café… (however you interpret it, I’ll come back to décor disparities at a later time). On entering you couldn’t help but notice the tables were twelve feet long with benches on each side. Flashback to our dining table as kids.  Which was probably only eight feet long, but it did have a bench our father had made. The bench was necessary, since there was not enough space to have four chairs down each side of the dining table in our kitchen (eight children divided by two, four chairs each side). We of course, crammed in shoulder to shoulder on the bench. This was sat beside the trusty formica table (with an extension section) on which the many thousands of toffee apples for the different fairs and fetes were produced (see blog Sunday 13^th May 2012). Now, this is important. The order of sitting on the bench was of course fairly critical. Consider this ten mouths to be fed. Firstly; A quantity of food, being put into serving dishes and being placed on the table generally relative to the type of food in the dish. Potatoes (for example), usually went to the centre of the table. Any meat dish went towards father’s end of the table and any greens tended to be placed towards mother’s end. No particular reason? Maybe not.

Food then travelled in a clockwise direction, with Father (position 12 o’clock) serving the meat dish, passing it on. Position ten (11 o’clock) was not the best place to sit. You ended up with whatever piece of meat had been left by everyone else. Secondly Mother sat at one end of the table and father at the other. Either parent had a reach of approximately three feet in a sitting position and four feet, if they stood and leaned on the end of the table. A rapid corrective swipe, did not usually require the particular parent to stand, so, by measurement, obtaining a seat nearest to the middle of the bench, resulted in a less forceful contact if they should strike towards you. (naturally it was a better idea to favour the Mother’s end of the the table in the halfway point. It also meant there was a body between you and the end of the table (between you and the parents swinging arm), and, that at 3 o’clock or 9 o’clock, there was still a chance you could get something reasonable from the food available (3 o’clock being the better seat of the two of course). Then as the other dishes came around, we all became quite expert at quantities and measurements. Everyone knew that every other eye was watching how much they served themselves from any particular dish. Green peas were always the most popular vegetables, brussel sprouts (the tight little , tiny cabbage like sprouts) usually the least favourite. There is a favourite battle of wills story in the family between one of my sisters and father and where a 3am ‘still at the table refusing to eat them’ situation arose (the sister refusing that is).

(Continued tomorrow)

About Division

So heading home, I still harboured the thought that perhaps I would still receive some form of punishment from my parents, once they heard what had happened at school. If it wasn’t another child advising their parents, there was always the internal informants, your brothers and sisters who were often at the same school. Something many children have to live with. Brothers and sisters. Having a single brother or sister can, I am sure be interesting, particularly for those children who have grown up in more remote areas. Often a special bond will form when you have to rely on just each other. But having three brothers, and four sisters, makes it a lot more challenging. The multiple variations of alliances for a start. International diplomacy could probably benefit from watching (and learning) about the dynamics of large families. Mind you, at the same time, large families are sometimes not the best way to observe diplomacy.

One of the problems with a large family can be the number of willing voices ready to ‘save their own skin’ when something has happened, and ‘someone’ has done something wrong. The defiant cry which was often heard ringing out in our house (and sometimes the neighbourhood) was ‘I’ll tell Mum/Dad”. Admittedly it tended to be Mum (not many of us were brave enough to tell Dad as we were never sure exactly what the response would be). With our mother there was often a brief period where negotiation was still sometimes possible. At least a chance to have your side of the story heard. But the cry heard through the hallways, and even sometimes through a closed door, was perhaps a common one, as one brother or sister (or more) vocally objected to what had occurred. This could be anything from, losing in a board game, to being injured when some game/stunt/practice went wrong. It was probably most common, when, left to look after ourselves, it came to dividing equal shares of foodstuffs. Trying to get an extra biscuit or a larger slice of something. That could often produce a very, very vocal objection from the siblings.

Some years later I heard the solution to this. You cut the remaining piece of cake (or slice) in half unevenly (deliberately), then you immediately pick up the larger slice. This will of course produce howls of anguished protest “Hang on. That’s not fair” You pause with the larger slice in your hand and ask innocently ‘What’s not fair?” The complainer will then point to the larger slice and say, “You took the biggest piece!” You then pause as if perplexed. Look frankly at the complainer and ask the simple question. “Well, using your manners, which must be what you are complaining about, what piece would you have taken, if you had gone first?” The complainer is immediately trapped (often unwittingly) “I would have taken the smaller piece” is the only response they can make. To which you simply reply. “Well, that’s good then, because you can still have the smallest piece. So there’s no problem” As you quickly walk away consuming the larger slice. Ah, the benefit of knowledge… if only I had known that earlier.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Gossip

Strangely, considering what I had received punishment for previously. The incident with Mr Walsh was a genuine reason I probably should have been physically punished. Yet, due to Mr Walsh’s generosity and understanding, and perhaps because there was now no ‘victims’ of my crime, just a debt I owed to Mr Walsh who had used his own money to pay back those I had stolen from. A debt I would have to try and repay, at some point. Even though the amount was small, it still left the very kind Mr Walsh out of pocket. One of the problems for me in trying to repay Mr Walsh, was that my actual earning ability was severely limited. As mentioned we occasionally were able to earn a little money with doing various tasks, newspaper delivery or the holiday pet feeding job, that was about all that was open to me at this age. So repaying the money to Mr Walsh was going to take a while. Even for the small amount of ‘E’ & ‘K’s money I had taken. Mr Walsh had not appeared too concerned. When I said I would get him the money. He could see what he had spoken to me about was important. Perhaps too, it was important to him. Validating what he saw in me, and what he trusted as his ability to teach. He did teach me. I learnt more from that moment in my past, than I did from many other teachers since.

I still left school that day, tentatively concerned that my parents would find out what had happened. I was fairly sure Mr Walsh was not going to inform my parents as he had told me. He had said so and I trusted what he had said to me. Trust, just another aspect of respect. That however, may not prevent my mother learning about the matter from another parent, whose child had may have heard something, which may or may not have been true. That was often the way trouble started. Particularly, the school situation. A child hears something at school, thinks they have understood the incident, and when their mother (tended to be the mother back then) asks how their day was…? They say something innocently, which is then re-interpreted by the adult social conscience (putting their own spin on it) who, rightly or wrongly, then starts off passing the story along to another parent. Before long the ‘grapevine’ (or at least the telephone line) is screaming with multiple versions (usually profoundly inaccurate) of the incident. These versions multiply exponentially (as each person relays their interpretation) and at times, become so excessively incorrect, that parents begin withdrawing children from schools and alerting the media, before the error of the original report (by the innocent child) is discovered. And who’s fault is that? Certainly not the child's. The parent who started the ‘wildfire’ retelling of the incident without the facts? Definitely. Patience is a virtue (my mother used to say), but patience is dreadfully absent when these incidents occur. People don’t necessarily wait to find out the actual facts, before rushing into a response. Perhaps they should, and alternatively, if it isn’t their business, then discuss it directly with those involved to understand what has really occurred and if there is any reason to worry.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Leaving A Mark

How big a black mark did you get for the little stuff? Or was it all the same. Do the right thing, you get a tick. Do the wrong thing, a black mark. That would be consistent. But no sliding scale? Even in working life, you have to work to a scale of responsibility. At school you were raised on it. Report cards. The terror of that end of term, when you were due to take home to your parents that double sided sheet of A4 paper, containing the various comments from teachers about your work, and scoring you against the rest of the class. Providing the teacher could remember who you were of course. If you hadn’t come to their attention in some way (and I guess generally I managed that) you could get a generic ‘Could do better’ written in the comments field. They could be pretty significant. Or used to be. As mentioned today, you don’t even have to pass anything to go on further in school. We did. If you failed more than 50% of your years subjects, you were kept back. It was a good thing. Unfortunately today, there is no ‘fail’ for most kids, so how do they judge an achievement? Even when they play those electronic games, they don’t have to actually achieve a skill standard. They just have to know which ‘cheat’ applies to where they are. I am very disappointed in that. How can they improve themselves as people, when they don’t have to achieve. We reward incomplete work. We even reward offenders. So what am I worrying about. If as a kid, I did something wrong, I got punished, physically and /or psychologically or financially (yes, occasionally all three).

But offenders today do something really wrong and they get ‘privileges’? They get special diets, special accommodation and lifestyle demands. They get access to an education that many working people can’t afford. It’s called rehabilitation. I don’t have a problem with that, but rehabilitation should come after the punishment. You don’t rehabilitate someone during their surgery if they are injured. No rehabilitation happens afterwards.

I have become convinced that in Australia the people who suffer most from crime, are the victims. There is little, or no real support for them. Many offenders are recidivist, repeating their offences again and again and again, until as a last resort (apparently) they actually get punished. And even the word punishment is dubious. They are not put into chains and shackles. They are not made to work in demeaning labour as criminals used to be. And they get paid. A pittance, but they get paid. They are fed, sheltered and medically cared for, well beyond what an average citizen is. So where is the punishment. And recently major serious offenders have been given ‘day’ release from prison to go shopping? What is wrong with this? Everything. Where is the punishment? The victims, depending on the situation suffer massive psychological, financial and often physical trauma. What do they get? A rise in the cost of their insurance premiums for one thing. And that’s just the start.

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Book

And how weird was that? You see, we were always told three things in the Catholic church. One: God is everywhere. Okay, can accept that. Two: God is Omnipotent. Okay, that’s a little harder to get. First as children understanding what the word ‘omnipotent’ meant was the big hurdle. ‘Knows everything’. Which tied in with number Three: God is watching you. Then he already knew! If you got caught doing something you shouldn’t, what was the problem? If he already knew, then according to them, ‘He’/’She (just to keep everyone onside) would put a black mark against your name in the book of judgement. According to the mother superior at one of her schoolyard admonishments, “The ‘book’ that really mattered”. Don’t even try as a child to understand that concept. Now I had the big book of nursery rhymes as a child and it was pretty big. It was fairly hard to even lift off the shelf when I was little. So, for a child to think of how big the book of judgement must be? It would have to be a pretty huge book.

If you think of all the bad people who would get marks, for a start. How many marks they would take? And then, if you applied that to the local church (Even the good people were bad sometimes). Then add in the town, then to the province/state and then, the entire country? And that was just our country. And New Zealand (where we were raised) was a little country according to the world map. Can you image, just how ‘ginormous a book such as the book of judgment must be? And where did God get the paper? How many trees were chopped down to make that book? You would need a whole planet just to grow the trees. And another curious thought I had when I was going to school and the book of Judgment was brought up? I mentioned it would have to be able to take refills. That did not go don very well with the nuns. Almost as badly as my asking if God had to write JMJ (Jesus, Mary and Joseph) in the top right corner of every page like we did.

But it seems many of the priest, nuns (particularly with swinging admonishments - and not the ‘hip’ 1960’s kind of swinging), as well as our parents and often strangers (particularly the nosey ‘church widows’). All of them seemed to be trying to ensure we would not get black marks against our names in the book of judgement. But where was the scale to work out how serious a black mark was? Okay, we Catholics had the ‘Ten Commandments’ (as mentioned before. They were meant to be the big ones. You were going to Hell if you broke one of those. But even the commandments are inconsistent. From not coveting your neighbours wife, if you do, a black mark? Nope, that’s a big one, straight to Hell. Not honouring your Mother or Father. Yep. Straight to Hell for that one too. Let’s be honest. That commandment had to be written by a parent? Maybe for this blog I’m already down at one of the lower levels of Hell (if I believed in religion or Dante’s Inferno)

(Continued Tomorrow)

About The 'Device'

This special ‘guilt attachment’, I’ll call the CGEE (Catholic Guilt Emotion Enhancer) was implanted onto the psyche of the innocent child while undergoing the brainwashing of the particular religion, as they are indoctrinated. I am sure every religion must possess a similar attachment to the children of their faith (some even seem to have the ‘fanaticism’ setting unnecessarily cranked right up). The ‘CGEE unit’ requires constant testing and adjusting of course, to allow the ‘wearer’ to then feel incredible guilt for the smallest of instances when they commit a particular act. Sometimes, it is obviously faulty. There are many who had it as children, but for whom, as soon as it stopped working, failed to get it retested and adjusted (that adjustment time for Catholics, was probably what ‘confession’ was meant to do). I believe there were many such ‘faulty’ adults at the churches we used to attend. Adults who could attend a service standing next to you, loudly, and vocally declaring (through the various rituals demanded by the practice), their devotion and belief in the ‘word of God’. For Catholics, that was the Father, the Son and, the Holy ghost. It wasn’t that you had a choice? Three for the price of one? Actually they were all meant to be the one (explain that to a young child). Then, these holy people who could drive right past us as we walked home from Sunday church in the pouring, cold rain or snow. They knew where we lived, how far away from the church, that we didn’t possess a motor vehicle, but I could count on one hand how often we were ever offered a lift, or at least some of us were offered (the ‘women’ especially).

It was one of the problems with coming from a very large family (numbers, not size). Often there are advantages in being a large family. The sharing of ideas and skills. Always having someone else around to talk to, etc. But, there were also the disadvantages, transport was one, no car, no real holidays, and few special events. Not to mention, always having someone around ….etc. But back to those adults possessing faulty CGEE’s. Many were ‘high up’ in the church. I often wondered about that as a child, because apart from the choir loft, that was about as high as you could get in the church. I once found a door to the steeple, but it was only a ladder and the only person I ever saw go high up was the caretaker with a can of oil.

I definitely had a CGEE, but then, as young as I was, it was still in the early stage of adjusting the settings to align the right levels of ‘guilt’ for a particular circumstance. The constant phrasing from parents and other adults, nuns and priests when you got caught misbehaving, was, “God is watching you!” or “God knows what you did”. This is surprisingly ignorant of the drive of young people. As I said, it didn’t stop you doing bad things, it just mattered if you got caught. Unless, your CGEE was fully functional and running in overdrive, you tested the limits of it.

(Continued tomorrow)

About The Lesson

I doubted my parents would be as understanding as Mr Walsh appeared to be. In fact something I had learnt, speaking of basic skills, I knew they ‘wouldn’t’ be as understanding. I knew I was going to be in for a terrible punishment. I could not imagine how severe the punishment from my parents would be (well, I suppose I could imagine. Based on previous experiences it wasn’t going to be pretty). Nor could I consider what form the punishment would be. Physical yes, I expected nothing less, but as mentioned earlier (see blog 9^th October 2012), there could be other options. Psychological or Financial. I understood I had someone in front of me, who had generously paid the stolen money back, from his own pocket. I new I had to make sure I paid it back to him. But perhaps I would not ever be employed. Don’t criminals have to carry a piece of paper saying they are criminals? And people don’t want to employ them. I had done something that my parents would be ashamed of. I had taken money that did not belong to me. Sure, I had bought ice blocks for everyone, but it was not my money in the first place. I now sat before Mr Walsh ashamed of what I had done. What he had said was important. How important I had not fully realised at the time. But how he had said it to me, was. I had not been smacked, beaten, left cowering. I had been spoken to. By a gentle speaker, softly spoken, who wanted me to hear what he had to say, clearly. I had heard. That was another great skill of Mr Walsh’s. He spoke to you, not at you.

He then prepared to say what I should expect would happen next. I prepared myself for the worse. I knew it was going to be bad. I had no real difficulty with the concept. Then Mr Walsh surprised me. He looked at me and said that what was going to happen next was….. Nothing. He explained that he would not tell the principal. I was amazed. He also told me he would not tell my parents. I really was amazed. I had done the wrong thing, but I was not to be punished further? There had to be a catch. Why wouldn’t he? Why would he not make an example of me? Other people always had if I did something wrong. Other people always seemed to make a point of showing me up when I made a mistake or such. That usually added to feelings of a lack of confidence in me. But that was irrelevant to them. They wanted to make sure I felt bad about it.

Right now I was feeling bad about what I had done. Some of that I was sure was due to the built in ‘Catholic guilt’ Those who do not have this effect (or ‘defect’) need to understand the way it works. It’s like a ‘retro fitted device’. An incredibly complex and deeply ingrained system of personal accountability, which is ‘attached’ to the unsuspecting psyche when merely a child, and forced into the practices and opinions of the Catholic church. It is then worked on over the years as you grow.

(Continued tomorrow)

About Understanding

The word from Mr Walsh was clear and simple. He had easily explained what was necessary for a person to be a ‘good’ person. In just one word. Respect. He had not shouted it at me. He had not hit me. He had not put me in a corner and found it necessary to heap derision on me. I had never doubted the images in the nursery rhyme books of my early childhood (when I was really little), where a child was put in the corner of a room with a cone stuck on their head and the word ‘DUNCE’ written on it. It seemed to me it was what some people did. It was what some teachers did. In some ways, it was what some teachers had sometimes done. Memories come to mind of one or two of the virtuous ‘nuns’ staring at this unfortunate, ignorant child, foisted unfairly upon them. And, upon whom it was their duty to educate him and shape him into a passable student. Many of them seemed to think that shaping involved their manual skill at ruler smacking or whipping him into shape with leather such as ‘Muddy Doo’ (See blog  Friday 21^st February 2013).They found a fault in something you said or did, and highlighted it to everyone in the class. They didn’t recognise you as an individual, they ‘identified’ you as an individual they could ridicule. They didn’t appreciate the fact you may not have understood exactly what they were trying to teach, because with some people that takes time. Not everyone understands at the same speed as everyone else. One of those essential things about humans, we learn as we are able to learn.

In some of my classes as I got older, I witnessed very clever students in some areas. Some were good at maths or sciences. Others excelled in manual skills. But that was to do with specialisation. How their brain actually worked once it understood the basics. It was when the basics were being taught that some teachers expected every child was supposed to be as capable as every other. It isn’t a fact. A friend recently began a teaching degree and I asked what she wanted to achieve. She said, “To understand what each child needs to learn”. She was talking more about method, than she was of quantity. An important distinction. Which already put her well above most teachers I had in my youth.

Mr Walsh rose well above every other teacher. He looked to inspire his students and to encourage. I may have disappointed him by what I had done (see blog Wednesday 30^th January 2013), but he also understood my thinking at the same time. He realised I was not stupid. He recognised I was an individual who would benefit more from a sound explanation, than a sound flogging. I had already had several of those (not from him) and had not yet learnt the essential difference in being a ‘good’ person. Not that even after what Mr Walsh had imparted, I thought that would be the end of the incident. I was still expecting to get a sound thrashing from my father and or mother (or both), once I made it home after school.

(Continued tomorrow)