Water Water Everywhere

Mother Nature is obviously pissed! She's giving us all she's got, although I probably shouldn't say that, as I've seen her do worse... But that was in Malaysia (with rain literally washing down as if out of buckets) or Japan (a taiphoon there can still teach these hurricanes here in Britain a lesson or two), so far far away. However, there's one thing to be noted: Down here in England you don't expect that kind of thing! 

I've seen the pictures on TV for quite a few days now, storms washing away parts of the coast, Somerset turning into an inland sea, but even then it seemed so far away. But now it's right at our doorstep.  As in my work neighbourhood.

Good news is: They keep sending us home early from the office, to give us a chance to get through one of the few roads that are still open. From the train or the bus I take home parks and fields have turned into ponds, a river I didn't even know was there has turned into a lovely waterpark, and the Thames in Staines which I cross every day has majestically claimed back the paths along its side (well, it's called the Thames Path after all). That and some houses, buildings and plenty other areas along with it. She has asserted herself most powerfully, you don't mess around with Queen Thames! There is now only a few sandbags between the river and my regular supplier of beer, The Swan in Staines. Even the calanisation can't take it anymore, water is coming up the drains, and even breaks through randomly along the streets, right through the concrete. The town now really needs to be renamed again, from Staines-Upon-Thames, a title it has only just received in recent years, to Staines-Under-Thames. By the way, that's not from me, I am not that creative...

So imagine, you go to work every day, and it's just the same routine, nothing ever happens apart from, well, work. I've been watching the river rise, and even seeing it climb over the banks and flooding the path didn't seem too unsettling, what's a bit of mud after all? I assumed with the tide ebbing it would just move out again. Well, nowadays it doesn't. 

Instead the army moved in. It makes you feel very uncomfortable to see the army passing your office in convoys. OK, they are armed with rescue boats and sandbags, which is so infinitely preferable to weapons, but despite all the help and support they are giving people in the area, seeing them pass just triggers images from war zones. Well, technically I guess we are in a war zone by now, just that you can't shoot Mother Nature and be done with it... Not for lack of trying, I am sure. 

Well, now all we can do is wait. Wait for the rain to stop pouring down, for the wind to stop pushing the water inland, the rivers to get to grips with the amount of water and sticking to their normal course. It may be a while, though. I should've joined that rowing club after all...

    

 

In Desperate Times

There is this man I know. Today he told his ex he would go home and kill himself. His company sent the police after him to check. I am waiting by the phone, but no news so far...

He is a really nice bloke. Yes, you can feel he was in a dark place, but he seemed to be getting better. It makes me so incredibly sad to think that he feels so desperate, that he sees no other way out other than this. I do hope that this was just a stupidly desperate attempt to blackmail his ex into reacting, maybe in a weird way even the delusion that this would bring her back. And I do hope that the fact that now his entire management knows about this will shock him back to reality. 

I understand what it is like being in a dark place where you see no way out. Not quite a year ago I was so hopeless that I saw no way out as well. I couldn't fight anymore, I couldn't bring up any energy, for anything, everything just continued on autopilot, and tiny things would make me fall. But I know, even if I didn't believe it at that time, that things change. They always have, and they always will. I know that, and no matter what has happened in my life I have always known that. Things change. Things happen. Things move on. Things will get better. They have for me, my life has turned around 180 degrees and I am in the best place I have been in years these days. And the dark times remain as a lesson, they have taught me so much.

Sitting here, now, waiting for news, I so hope I could tell him this. Things will change. Things will get better. They always do, no matter how unlikely it seems that they ever will. I know I am not the only one around here who wants to cry with him over the pain that he is feeling. And slap him for being so stupid to take this path. And then give him a hug. If only he could hear me. If only he knew that he is not alone. And never has been.

Food and Funerals

My brother died last night. I really don't know what to say; it was quick and completely unexpected, I don't even really know yet what happened. Terrible, surreal, and I still don't believe it: I expect to wake up any moment now. And there are no words I can think of that find their place in this situation. But being quiet just feels impossible as well.

So let me talk about food. 

I always thought it was just a stereotype that funerals are inevitably linked with food, neighbours bringing casseroles, the German word Leichenschmaus (which, come to think of it, is a really REALLY very weird term), coffee and cake... Despite these things I never thought that they really were inseparably linked. But the first thing I did after talking to my mum was to cook: Automated moves, keeps me busy doing something, enough to shut off my brain for a while, but not too complicated to have to concentrate hard to do it. 

And our main thing left to organise for the funeral is the food for the family gathering. For which we will all prepare something, everyone knows already what they will cook or bake, it seems, ideas spring to mind with surprising ease.

Food is therapeutic somehow, I guess, not just eating it, which we all know can be very soothing. But that preparing or even planning it can be comforting, too, is a new concept for me. However, after running out of words to express what we feel we quickly turned to talking about food, about what we could contribute to help out, to ease things a little bit. It's a safe topic, I guess, productive, useful, practical, it keeps us busy. We consider who will be there and what they will and will not eat, or can and can not. We plan the shopping, the time it takes to prepare, to cool down enough to be ready for transport, the logistics of it, the organising. Again, the word surreal comes to mind, that one is associated with the other. Substituting one topic that is too difficult to put into words with another one, where conversations can be extended indefinitely, if need be. Which may be just why I am writing this at the moment. Substitute one thing that has no words with another that is easy. Surreal. Everything is surreal.

A Little Chat

Is it only me who gets confused by decisions? I mean those decisions that have a bit more impact than what to make for dinner. Like where to live. 

What do you mean, where to live? Shouldn't you know by now? (says my 18-year-old self just to butt into the conversation) I mean, now you are old! Didn't you have everything settled when you hit 30? Like I expect you to?

Ah, those good old years where I thought I would have everything figured out in a few years. Wasn't it cute?

Who're you calling cute? I know I am moving to London to live in a loft or something, Camden way!

Yeah, well, did Camden, not a loft though, but a room without heating, and a neighbour who listened to music in a volume that made my floor shake at 3AM and who got herself hospitalised every week for alcohol poisoning or smashing her hand through her window, which of course meant the ambulance had to wake me up because someone had to open the door downstairs. 3 months without sleep made the decision for me: Camden, great. But I had to move. 

Well alright, but there's gotta be other good places in London! Alternative pubs around the corner, independent coffee shops to go read a book or chat with artistically minded people about, well, art and philosophy.

Mmh, also not quite the way it will work out for you, my young friend, at least not the way you thought. There are those people in your life to philosophise with, and you have found a pub or two that you really like and that started to feel like your local. Problem is, they are up north. And right now the 2-hour commute to work from up there seems like too much.   
So far my new life has brought me to Hounslow, out of convenience. 

Hounslow, now that should be cool, with all that Indian stuff around everywhere!

Well, so far that's the only plus point I can find here: The Quality Foods supermarket around the corner that has all the spices and veggies and pickles I can wish for. Other than that, it is kinda convenient, good to get to work, good to get into town, but as much as I thought I would be able to stand the bathroom from hell by weighing that against the fact that I finally have cats around again and the flatmate is quite nice, I am doubting more and more that I actually can endure this much longer. I shower at work now, which is alright, but only solves part of the problem. And is somewhat annoying in the long run, especially since I still have no hair dryer and going home with wet hair is a bit painful in this cold weather. 

Come on, it can't be that bad!

I remember that flat I shared with those guys at uni. Where your slippers sometimes got stuck on the kitchen floor. Believe you me: That place was cosy! Maybe not the cleanest place on earth, but it was lovely to sit and chat in the kitchen, and the bath with all those fish painted on the wall? That was nice! Here you need a shower as soon as you touch the bathtub! 
So, in short: I want to move sooner rather than later. As soon as I find something I can afford. Difficulty is: Where to? Where will I find a place where I can feel at home?
Right now I am overawed by any place with a clean bathroom. Even though I know that that won't be enough in the long run. Then there is all those pretty places around the west, like Kingston...

Are you serious? That posh place? With all those rich people who have no use for a brain and just spend their time shopping in those boring brand-name shops where all they sell looks exactly the same?

Yes, that posh place with all those boring shops. It DOES have a Wilkinson, too, though! But so far it has yet to convince me that there is more there other than just to stop by on a visit to feel at home. There is Hampton, very pretty villagy feel to it...


Wait wait wait, are you telling me you turned into one of those wanna-be rich girls that wants to move into a posh neighbourhood? Hampton? Really? There's nothing there!!!

True, though it is really pretty, but getting my daily stuff will be a problem, considering I still hate shopping, and despise being forced to shop in the more expensive places such as Waitrose. I need access to my cheap shops! And a good cheap veggie place in the area, too, where I can get my Turkish, Chinese and Indian stuff! 

So, do I take a longer journey to work into account and move somewhere further back into London? Chiswick is pretty...

POSH!

... or Acton has surprised me as being quite nice after all...

Dito! 

... but to get to work from there is gonna take a while. Can't I just move back to North London? What's 2 hours one way anyway... getting up at 5.30 in the morning, spending £200plus on transport each month... I am desperate, but is it THAT desperate?
Decisions decisions... made even more difficult by the fact that right now I would take anything as long as it has a decent bath! The limiting factor is in full swing, and blocks out all other considerations to decide on a place. I've found myself cooing over a picture of a bungalow-type flat with one of those 70s beige numbers that I usually would think dead ugly! Have I been reduced to that?
 Mmh...  

The Jollies

I work in Staines now, and rent in Hounslow. Both are, as far as I can see in my limited exposure, not the most beautiful places in and around London. But Staines is on the river, has pubs with terraces and will be quite lovely in summer I suspect. And Hounslow, well, it's convenient. 

To get from one to the other I mainly take a bus. One of the routes goes around Heathrow and through Ashford, the other through Feltham and Ashford in order to get to Staines. And I gotta say, as far as dreary goes, those places have to be near the top... Granted, I hardly know them, I just see what the bus window presents, but oh, how very much do I not want to explore this area. 

Funny thing though, the shops and pubs seem to have taken quite a liking to names with the word "jolly" in it. The Jolly Baker, Jolly Butchers, The Jolly Farmer... Or things like The Happy Landing. Most of these do not look particularly jolly, or happy, or even inviting. Or maybe I'm just an ignorant snob, who knows. 

Be that as it may, I wonder, in my years here in London I have not come across many pubs with jolly or happy in their name; none comes to mind although I am sure there must have been one or the other Jolly Whatsisname. But in this area, they are everywhere! Why is that? 

My theory, and feel free to contradict me, is that because it all looks so dreary around here they had to try and get at least some sort of positive note in. Power of suggestion and that kind of thing, maybe throw in a bit of conspiracy theory as well, government's secret plan to keep the inhabitants of squalid suburbia from aiming for too much change... If you see the words jolly and happy often enough you might, at some point, start to believe it actually is jolly or happy, or so the logic goes. And even though just by calling a ramshackle old dive Jolly Something doesn't make it any less of a ramshackle dive, maybe, just maybe, and given that there really isn't much of any other choice around there anyway, once you've had a couple of pints you really do believe anything they say, even if it is convincing you that this indeed is jolly. 

Well, jolly good I say. You enjoy the Jolly Butcher, and I stick to the nice pubs! Slainte!

All New and Everything Still the Same

It's strange, but somehow I feel like I return to the same place over and over again. Where common expectation wants to see a linear progression I tend to run around and around on a spiral, never in the same place twice, but somehow recognising the situations and patterns. 

So here I am again, another job, another flat, another area, another set of people. It's good, I like it, and after those intense last 8 months I was craving some big change in my life. It's just weird to be here, still in London, but everything is so different, none of the areas I now see every day are familiar, none of the faces are, everything is new. I haven't really figured out where to go if I want to get some things, or who to call if I want to meet for a beer nearby, and I miss my Turkish bread and the Palace on the hill behind my flat... 

Hounslow is certainly interesting, a lot of Indian food etc, but I have yet to find something pretty around here, or a nice park, or even a pub that looks at least somewhat inviting... But then again, who would I go with, I don't know anyone in Hounslow, yet, so for pubs I will still arrange to meet people in town.
Distances have suddenly taken on a very different meaning. London seems so far away, meaning Central London, although hopping on the tube would mean I'd be there in 40 mins. Well, it took me that same time to get into town from Wood Green, too, although admittedly that was because I would always prefer the bus. By bus from here would take way longer. So, I am not actually that far away from my old familiar life, and I've had the chance to meet up with a few friends who live not too far away from me now, over in posh town, which I must say is really pretty: Places like Richmond or Kingston, they do look very nice. I still feel out of place there, though, I guess I prefer a certain amount of scruffiness after all. Within reason...

Not so far away from my old familiar life, but far enough to make me feel like I have again ended up in some completely new place. It does feel like a bit more of an effort to meet up with friends, maybe because they are not part of my daily surroundings anymore. Before I would pass a place and remember having been there with one or the other person, and that would remind me to call them. Now all is new. All faces I meet everyday are new. At the new office I am starting to get to know new people, which is all good and exciting, but it again opens up an entire new chapter in my life, and I am not sure how to connect this to my old life. I will manage eventually, I always do, by finding ways of throwing people from different parts of my life together into one big experiment... sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, depending on how these people get along. But I don't see it as my problem if they don't. Mah, anyway...

All new, all different, and I again feel a bit of that schizophrenia... where I adapt to yet another environment, with different people, different requirements, different expectations... They take over for the moment, and define my life for the time being, until the newness fades and I realise what to focus on. But all my other lives are there with me as well, my Japanese family and my home in Osaka, my parents in Germany and the places I have lived there, Malaysia with my friends and the heavenly food on every street corner... All those places and people that were once daily life for me, but which have nothing much in common with other places and people of other daily lives in my past. 

I'm not complaining, I chose to do this, I wanted to experience life in different places, make these places my home, these friends my family. What I didn't expect is how confusing it can be at times when I look at all these different people I love in my life, each in their own particular world which used to be my world as well at some point, but has somewhat changed since I was a part of it. And even more confusing, I connect to these people on the same level, but use a different language in each of these worlds, which includes not just words but thoughts and gestures and even the way I talk or present myself. If that makes any sense... As such, talking to different people in different languages is not so big a thing, but I tend to associate certain levels of intimacy to friends with certain languages. And find it difficult to separate them from each other. Which means I on occasion start using German with my Spanish friend, or English when talking to my dad... and sometimes only notice when I see those hesitant looks...

So here I am again, in a new chapter of my life, all new and different, another challenge to find my way around in. After having done this so many times I just really want to find a place to stay and settle, find some routine. I don't mean to get rid of change, I like change, change is good. I just want to scale it down a bit, and keep changes to smaller things, to some aspects of my life, not all of them all at once... Been there, done that, so many times. Don't you think it's time to change from constantly changing?

 

Under Pressure

This isn't really a new observation, but I was just reminded yesterday how much pressure people put on themselves to fit into society, to be what society decides you should be, and to try and belong. They put so much pressure on themselves that they cannot do anything but fail because the goals are set way too high and they just make themselves sick in the process. 

It was my friend's girlfriend's birthday yesterday, and we went out for a few drinks. Her friends were almost exclusively from her self-help group for people suffering from depression, so naturally the topic revolved a lot about experiences and reasons why people get depressed. I was a bit afraid that in my current state, where I feel I can hardly keep a grip on my life and don't really know how to cope with unemployment and recurring rejection, this might be a potentially very unhealthy place for me to be. But it was actually very good to hear what some of them had to say, and realise how similar their experience is to my fight not to lose my confidence and sense of self in the face of constant rejection, and to find the energy to continue and play he game of presenting yourself as much as possible in the image that society wants you to be in order to find acceptance, or a job as in my case.  And still stay true to oneself.

The general consensus was that most of them got sick when they found they could not be the person their surroundings, and most of all they themselves, expected them to be. Instead of being outgoing, bubbly, the centre of attention, high achieving successful career people they were introverted, often quite creative, and though they do enjoy meeting with people and having some fun there are days when they prefer just to stay at home and have some quiet time. I say they, but I am like that as well. I like being around people, I need the human contact, the chats and laughs, but I do also need time for myself. Which is all fine. Once this need to be alone takes over, drains all your energy and keeps you from going out at all, from being able to hold a job etc, that's where the problem starts. 

But I wanted to focus on failed expectations and pressure. In order to be... for lack of a better word I call it normal, as in society's norm of a well-situated person... so, in order to be normal you need to fulfill certain criteria, you know, a bit like in a highschool drama: You should look a certain way to be considered pretty, you should have many friends and do cool things like snowboarding or play in a band (it turns out playing in an orchestra is not really cool, unfortunately, so all my classical music training was in vain I guess), then later you need the high-paying job, go clubbing on the weekend in trendy locales, and then get married and have the 1.5 kids or whatever the statistic is right now. If you do you are insanely happy. If not then something is wrong with you. The fact that there is nobody out there whose life is perfect, that everybody has something they don't like about themselves, they don't like about their life, their work, their relationship is something many people seem to forget. Just because people don't talk about it and pretend that everything is great doesn't mean it is. And the more insistent they are on how happy they are, the likelier it is that they really aren't. 

This woman talked about how she used to think that her family and everyone around her were all so strong and happy because they kept making her feel dependent on their opinion and convinced her how inadequate she was because she wasn't as Christian as they were or not as successful or couldn't keep a relationship. At some point she realised that she was actually much more Christian than they were, because she went out and helped wherever she saw people who needed help, whereas her family thrived on seeing others suffer and feeling superior because of that. 

I think a lot of our problems stem from us comparing ourselves to others, heck, our entire society is built on comparison and the need to strive for what we don't have, just so that we can feel prettier or better or worth more than others who do not drive the same car or can talk as confidently about how great they are. So much of it is just pretend, the material things to show off, the bragging to pretend that they are such great achievers and know everything when they do not... I mean I envy people who can talk a lot of bullshit and present themselves as the greatest person on earth. In a sense I would like to be able to have the nerve, but all I see is someone talking rubbish and I find it impossible to believe that all those people listening to that actually buy it. I couldn't do it because I'd think I was insulting their intelligence by embellishing things so obviously out of proportion. But society wants the loudmouths, the ones that never shut up about themselves and think they know it all, whereas I prefer to listen and learn and develop. Don't get me wrong, I know what I can do, I am confident in my abilities and can talk about them in straight terms, but I find it very difficult to brag about it and make it all sound so much more than it is, which is what is expected apparently when I see how the recruitment market works. Only the loudest bullshitter will get the job. And I still hope for someone with the mind to realise what actually is behind it...

It's just so sad to see how society works, where expectations to conform to an ideal are so strong that more and more people fall through the net when they see their failings and can't cope with the pressure. What hardly anyone realises is that we all fail in one way or another, and that is a good thing, cause if we were all exactly like this ideal person in society, man, how boring would this world be? It's just sometimes so difficult to stand up for oneself and just be who we are, and not care that others might not like it. After all we are the ones to decide who we should or should not be, we decide where we want to go and what we want to strive for in life. And I want to believe that we can, even if it means struggling against mainstream ideals and fighting to keep feeling adequate and confident, despite people trying to convince you otherwise...