I have had very little interest in wondering about other planets and what life might be like on them, until I began reading my first sci-fi novel, 'The Book of Fabulous New Things' by Michael Faber. It's not strictly sci-fi in that Faber has mixed genres and what the book seems to be offering (I am at the half-way mark) is not so much an alternative world as an effort to have the reader think about life on this planet Earth, about devotion and duty to another person, and about the endurance of love. That's my sense of it so far.
Although I can't say I am particularly enjoying the read so far, it's got so much potential to have a searing effect on the reader in the long run that I am reading on into the very long novel with confidence that it won't be a waste of my time. Already, I find myself questioning the way things are done here; how much we assume is okay, when maybe it isn't all that okay after all.
Wintertime, I've worn a pair of boots a number of times. I'm not sure why it was yesterday, as I was walking along in a park, that it suddenly dawned on me that my old tried and true black boots with a medium heel suddenly didn't look right to my eye. I came home and scanned my boots and shoes and noticed that some toes were round and some toes had a short square toe, like the ones I was wearing. I sorta knew that on some level in that I gave away a very obviously square toed ankle book at the beginning of winter. But, that all the boots on women in the streets were round toed was something that had escaped my attention.
I have no difficulty in parting with clothing and footwear that has been well worn, but this turn in what was 'in fashion' threw me because it meant that a few pairs of footwear were suddenly unwearable, when they had plenty of life left in them. I expressed my annoyance to those who would listen, my sons. My eldest son assured me that square toed footwear was not to be worn, whilst my youngest son assured me that the fashion police didn't actually exist.
'But, they do, they do!' I replied.
These sudden changes in fashion styles are nothing new, of course; simply an old but brilliant ploy to get us to ditch perfectly good items in order to buy new ones. Whilst this has always been the case, I've more or less absolved myself from the game by maintaining a classic dress style. A classic black skirt is a classic black skirt and whilst my 20 year old black woolen jacket is currently having its shoulder span taken in, even the dressmaker who happily tells me to ditch things and buy a replacement agreed that the jacket was too good to throw away. Yes, she would remodel it. Oh joy!
I am realistic enough to accept that we can't change the culture too much, or too fast, or maybe not at all. Although, some people do simply ignore culture. I've a lovely girlfriend who gives the entire thing a miss; no makeup, long straight hair and jeans. Her idea of getting gad up is to change into a pair of black slacks. I think she's great. But, it's the sort of bravery that most of us are not up to; certainly not me.
Back in the day when plans were being put in place to contain me; something that thrilled me, I agreed to cull my wardrobe. The idea is/was that now that there was much less in the wardrobe, anything bought required that something be thrown away. It didn't entirely work for me. I'd see something gorgeous and impulsively get it, particularly if it was on sale. I worked on the basis of one in/one out, mostly, but there was something missing in the equation, a sort of ambivalence about the philosophy behind it. I hadn't quite taken it into my soul.
I think it goes like this, that I am surrounded every day by people with shopping bags in their arms, people who almost live to shop; daily emails telling me about sales; SALE notices in the largest letters screaming at me from store windows. It is almost our religion here on Earth: shop til you drop. And thus, from time to time the rule is broken. Sorta: if they can do it, why can't I?
I am, in fact, the opposite of a bower bird. I detest clutter. I can't function with stuff around me and this sense of wanting to live with space around me, space to breathe, just gets more and more intense. As I say to my husband, everything should be in its place and if there isn't a place for it, maybe we don't need to own it. He finds me excessively concerned about this matter which makes my relationship with my first born all the more important because he thinks I'm not minimalist enough.
I read a statement lately that suggested that we not talk to the exterior - people, dressed and preened - but that we talk to their souls. It's an extraordinary thought, I think; that there might be another planet, another way to live, where there were no stores; no attempts to convince others, and yourself, that you're more special than another person because you have a fancy car and/or house, a Facebook account that highlights your overseas trips, or the latest Prada bag.
I love beautiful things and I love to look good, so I'd miss the opportunity to own some lovely things to wear, but excess is, well, it's excessive. Imagine if our philosophy here on Earth was 'Buy what you need.' Imagine if the culture looked down on those with excess. It's kinda happening right now; a moral concern with foodies obsessed with the latest fad when millions of people in the world are starving.
As one individual in a large world I feel that the only control I have is over myself; to monitor what I own and do with those items I no longer need; to use the food that I buy and not allow it to go to waste; to be a better role model for the children on these matters than I have been in the past; to recognize that we in some way are feeding the insecurities of our souls and hearts by over buying and obsessively wanting more.
I think this is where the awareness notion comes into play. If we are asking ourselves why we want the new dress or the expensive restaurant meal, we are at least taking the time to explore our reasons for the desire. With winter in full swing I'm aware of my sweet tooth demanding my attention and that's when I have to use self discipline to deny myself that which I don't need. Thank goodness for Jazz apples.
There is something about my submissive mind that likes to be contained and that feels out of sorts when there is too much allowed. I know deep down that happiness doesn't come to me via possessions but rather a sense of connection to those I love. This is what makes the power exchange dynamic special for me; containment and connection; happiness.
Although I can't say I am particularly enjoying the read so far, it's got so much potential to have a searing effect on the reader in the long run that I am reading on into the very long novel with confidence that it won't be a waste of my time. Already, I find myself questioning the way things are done here; how much we assume is okay, when maybe it isn't all that okay after all.
Wintertime, I've worn a pair of boots a number of times. I'm not sure why it was yesterday, as I was walking along in a park, that it suddenly dawned on me that my old tried and true black boots with a medium heel suddenly didn't look right to my eye. I came home and scanned my boots and shoes and noticed that some toes were round and some toes had a short square toe, like the ones I was wearing. I sorta knew that on some level in that I gave away a very obviously square toed ankle book at the beginning of winter. But, that all the boots on women in the streets were round toed was something that had escaped my attention.
I have no difficulty in parting with clothing and footwear that has been well worn, but this turn in what was 'in fashion' threw me because it meant that a few pairs of footwear were suddenly unwearable, when they had plenty of life left in them. I expressed my annoyance to those who would listen, my sons. My eldest son assured me that square toed footwear was not to be worn, whilst my youngest son assured me that the fashion police didn't actually exist.
'But, they do, they do!' I replied.
These sudden changes in fashion styles are nothing new, of course; simply an old but brilliant ploy to get us to ditch perfectly good items in order to buy new ones. Whilst this has always been the case, I've more or less absolved myself from the game by maintaining a classic dress style. A classic black skirt is a classic black skirt and whilst my 20 year old black woolen jacket is currently having its shoulder span taken in, even the dressmaker who happily tells me to ditch things and buy a replacement agreed that the jacket was too good to throw away. Yes, she would remodel it. Oh joy!
I am realistic enough to accept that we can't change the culture too much, or too fast, or maybe not at all. Although, some people do simply ignore culture. I've a lovely girlfriend who gives the entire thing a miss; no makeup, long straight hair and jeans. Her idea of getting gad up is to change into a pair of black slacks. I think she's great. But, it's the sort of bravery that most of us are not up to; certainly not me.
Back in the day when plans were being put in place to contain me; something that thrilled me, I agreed to cull my wardrobe. The idea is/was that now that there was much less in the wardrobe, anything bought required that something be thrown away. It didn't entirely work for me. I'd see something gorgeous and impulsively get it, particularly if it was on sale. I worked on the basis of one in/one out, mostly, but there was something missing in the equation, a sort of ambivalence about the philosophy behind it. I hadn't quite taken it into my soul.
I think it goes like this, that I am surrounded every day by people with shopping bags in their arms, people who almost live to shop; daily emails telling me about sales; SALE notices in the largest letters screaming at me from store windows. It is almost our religion here on Earth: shop til you drop. And thus, from time to time the rule is broken. Sorta: if they can do it, why can't I?
I am, in fact, the opposite of a bower bird. I detest clutter. I can't function with stuff around me and this sense of wanting to live with space around me, space to breathe, just gets more and more intense. As I say to my husband, everything should be in its place and if there isn't a place for it, maybe we don't need to own it. He finds me excessively concerned about this matter which makes my relationship with my first born all the more important because he thinks I'm not minimalist enough.
I read a statement lately that suggested that we not talk to the exterior - people, dressed and preened - but that we talk to their souls. It's an extraordinary thought, I think; that there might be another planet, another way to live, where there were no stores; no attempts to convince others, and yourself, that you're more special than another person because you have a fancy car and/or house, a Facebook account that highlights your overseas trips, or the latest Prada bag.
I love beautiful things and I love to look good, so I'd miss the opportunity to own some lovely things to wear, but excess is, well, it's excessive. Imagine if our philosophy here on Earth was 'Buy what you need.' Imagine if the culture looked down on those with excess. It's kinda happening right now; a moral concern with foodies obsessed with the latest fad when millions of people in the world are starving.
As one individual in a large world I feel that the only control I have is over myself; to monitor what I own and do with those items I no longer need; to use the food that I buy and not allow it to go to waste; to be a better role model for the children on these matters than I have been in the past; to recognize that we in some way are feeding the insecurities of our souls and hearts by over buying and obsessively wanting more.
I think this is where the awareness notion comes into play. If we are asking ourselves why we want the new dress or the expensive restaurant meal, we are at least taking the time to explore our reasons for the desire. With winter in full swing I'm aware of my sweet tooth demanding my attention and that's when I have to use self discipline to deny myself that which I don't need. Thank goodness for Jazz apples.
There is something about my submissive mind that likes to be contained and that feels out of sorts when there is too much allowed. I know deep down that happiness doesn't come to me via possessions but rather a sense of connection to those I love. This is what makes the power exchange dynamic special for me; containment and connection; happiness.
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