Reason is gentler!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My barely restrained frothing at the mouth over what I see as the cringingly subservient attitude of many of my fellow countrymen to the royal family, to the past Queen and the present King, are put to shame by some of the well-tempered and constructive analysis by papers like The Guardian.

     While it is generally clear that most of these writers regard a hereditary monarch as an aberration in a mature democracy, a denial of the meritocracy that Britain has paid lip service to for generations, and a reinforcement of the inequalities that still hinder the development of the country, they are still able to write with a subtlety and depth of analysis which brings reason into the argument.

     While I am sure that the republican feelings in the country are growing year on year, I am also fairly convinced that the statistics show that a majority of the country would probably support the continuation of the monarchy if it were ever put to a vote.

     We have to work within the bounds of reality.  Much though I would like to see the institution of the monarchy abolished, it is unlikely to happen.  What is glaring obvious to me is just as obviously not to a large number of people.  But that is what we have got to work with.

     At this time of National Grief, or however you define what is going on at the moment with all responses being fuelled by the unending coverage of the BBC, it is perhaps not the time to call for all out republicanism!  But, at the same time, this so-called transition period as we move from one long serving monarch to a new/old king is surely a time for reflection.

     At the moment the political system seems paralyzed by the concerns for the funeral and succession but as one commentator pointed out, the poor don’t stop being poor for the days until after the funeral.  We need action now.  Action on the cost-of-living crisis and some sort of discussion about the way that we want to see the future of our political systems develop.

     When Macmillan was asked what the most difficult problems in government were, he replied, “Events, dear boy, events!”  There will always be “events” and there will always be reasons for inaction and for kicking difficult problems down the road or into the tall grass of whatever other metaphor you want to use for not doing something.  With people genuinely concerned about affording food and heat next winter; with a serious war in Europe; with political division more pronounced each day – they are plenty of reasons to feel overwhelmed.  But I keep telling myself that the most far-reaching reform of the education system was developed during the Second World War.  Whatever issues seem overwhelming at the moment, compared with the last War we are still sitting pretty, and we have more than enough time and space to consider and debate the future without resorting to panic!

     As guns are fired in salutes; as various officials read out proclamations; as the stately procession of the coffin of the Queen makes its progress through the country; as politicians speak to reassure us of continuity, and as newspapers and the media give worldwide graphic images of a particular vision of our country, everything appears to be slipping back into place. 

     Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose!

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

On an altogether more mundane note: I have swum earlish-morning in the community pool for a week (or one half) of the period that my regular indoor pool is closed for annual maintainance.

     I can tell that it is getting cooler and the jump into the pool to start my lengths (or circles in this pool) is something of a shock - but not an unbearable one, so I will continue to do it, until the breath is knocked out of my body by my first insertion!

     My smart watch is set to "Open water swimming" for the pool and seems to take a variable attitude to how far I swim.  On the first occasion I felt that I had not done my customary 1,500m, but I was more than prepared to believe my watch rather than my level of breathlessness.  Today, the obverse of that occurred and I felt (and believe) that I did far more than my allotted length.

     I miss the ritual of my usual morning swim, where I don't have to wait for a smidgeon of sunshine to make the ordeal a little more bearable!  And then there is my tea and baguette in the cafe, that I also miss - but I tell myself that I will be all the more appreciative when I finally return in another seven cold-water days!

 

 

 

Unshaven and un-swum

 

It takes time to realize that some things that you usually do, do not necessarily have to be done.

I won’t list the little things that we do that only have the power of frequency or habit to recommend them, but if you think about your day there will be all sorts of actions and ‘rituals’ that you do that could be scrapped at a moment’s notice and your life would be better.  Or at least different.

These thoughts (if they can be dignified with that appellation) have been prompted by the fact that we came back from Terrassa after a family celebration quite late.  As we get up at 6 am (sic) any lateness to bed is penalized by the rapidly approaching morning!  So we were both tired today and the ride to work was more than usually taciturn.  But, we got there in time, indeed with enough time to spare for Toni to have an early morning coffee to give him the necessary caffeine fix to get through to the breakfast break.

As I stuttered by way past the series of red lights in Cornella on my way home, a thought struck me.  I didn’t have to go to work.  And (traitorous thought) I didn’t have to have my swim.  Now, not swimming (in spite of the fact that I enjoy the activity) is something that I constantly had to deal with on my way back from school at the end of the day when I was working.  I had an (expensive) membership of the David Lloyd Centre and that august institution had not only a fair sized indoor pool, but also a far more bracing outdoor one. 

But, at the end of the day I was tired and disinclined to swim.  I would spend the distance from school to home debating with myself about whether I really wanted to go for a swim, because, after all, I had had a swim in the morning, or would I rather have a proper cup of tea at home.  This debate would go on until I found myself (somehow) in the car park of the David Lloyd Centre.  And I would go and have a swim.

Now that I am retired, I find that I am made of sterner stuff.  The dictum, “You are tired, go to bed” seemed to me to have the authority of sacred law.  So, in spite of the fact that the swimming pool is directly on my return route, I veered away from the entrance and came home and went back to bed.  And I feel better for it!

I will not laze around too much, after all I have the liquid accusation of a communal swimming pool just outside the back garden gate to urge me to take my accustomed exercise, even if it is a little later than usual.

And then there is the indulgence of being unshaven.  In the (early) morning I just have a cursory wash and brush my teeth (not so cursorily) because I have a shower and a shave after my swim.  Which in my case I have not had.  So it is now a question of which comes first?  The cup of tea, the swim, or ablutions.

What obviously came first was this piece of writing which is something that characterises my approach to life: if in doubt, write.  So having written, I think I will have a swim, then a shower and shave and then a lingering cup of tea on the terrace on the third floor - and an introduction to the rest of the day!