Concerning? Self seeking ambitions and interests and being quietly independent.

You pick up books, vinyl or cassette tapes, a guitar, clay to sculpture, pen and paper, a camera with film, go to college and university with an inquisitive mind, you read sign language and anatomy, physiology and pathology books.

Books. There for life. Endless books and journeys to who knows where. Tolkien, H G Wells, Conan Doyle, and so very many more. Earlier in life, Enid Blyton, Richmal Crompton, Dickens, and again, so very many more. Words that beautifully haunt your life.

Vinyl or cassette tapes. You’ve listened to both, the music has been ever present in your life. CD and MP3 format a poor substitute because the unique qualities of vinyl and tape have a sound that imprints into your psyche and never leaves. Melody’s that beautifully haunt your life.

Guitar. You write songs, you learn others’ songs, play local pubs, improve enthusiastically, go on tour, ambition to reach for the stars. Tunes, self penned, that beautifully haunt your life.

Clay. You make Celtic inspired pieces, buy a kiln, go to craft fares, have exhibitions, write poetry, stories about your clay characters and get them printed. Imagery, self made, that beautifully haunts your life.

Camera. You use only film because you believe in the magical Latent Imagery concept, build a photography darkroom, read all about iconic photographers out there, and avidly seek the photograph that mind blows. Exhibit your work in galleries. Scenes of nature that beautifully haunt your life.

College. You go to learn British Sign Language. It takes 5 years of your life in learning within college walls, both part time and full time. Support students in their educational experiences. You chase to improve your skills daily and are self critical. But still you swallow your angst and try. Learning that beautifully haunts your life.

University. You seek to become a Staff Nurse. 3 years of your life in University, Community and the Hospital wards. You chase to improve your skills on a daily basis. You are a Staff Nurse. Still self critical. But also have criticism thrust upon you from the media and how nurses are viewed nowadays. You’re daily experience always involves fear and self realised vulnerability. But still swallow your angst and try. Skills that beautifully haunt your life.

So, as always, I place the Buddha statue alongside tinkling bells, singing bowls, background silence, nature’s sound dance or gentle music, light resins or joss sticks and meditate to my best ability. But. Meditation, reflection and realising inner peace no longer work. They’re gone. All have been replaced with something else. Melancholy.

Where once was hope, imagination, ambition, independence, artistic seeking, the friendship in the nature of books, writing and music. Recently? Within the last two years probably. It has been replaced. No longer to pick up a book and actually finish it. No longer put music on and truly listen to it. No longer write a song and get past writing lyrics to the first verse and chorus. And such horribly negative lyrics too on reflection. No longer pick up a camera and seek interest as to what lay before my eyes. No longer seeking to avidly learn following my Masters Degree experience. Get by day to day and sigh with relief that I’ve actually got to the end of yet another day. Day’s are now simply lost endeavours. They come. They go.

So. I suppose I am either at a stage of deep, deep melancholy. Or maybe just an older person with a free bus pass who has just shrugged his shoulders and said to himself:

“Enough of seeking. There’s a lot to be said in simply sitting in the moment, drinking good coffee, eating great biscuits, drinking good bourbon, smoking decent pipe tobacco and simply looking at the trees and stars”.