Tag: Last Wolf

These days, I sound like a right old bastard when I use that term, (it’s not like the good old days of 1853), it seems people know more. Or think they know more maybe, bring more to the table. I’ve done this myself, piped up at jiu-jitsu when I should’ve just shut the fuck up, or when outdoors with BD or similar. Let the person doing it, do it, and keep your mouth closed seems to be a good way forward. No one likes the know-it-all anyway. No one likes that one guy who when on a tour keeps asking detailed questions as they already have such an in depth knowledge and all they’re after is to catch the tour guide out and prove them wrong. Constantly looking for holes in others game. I don’t think I do that, but I have known people who do, and have seen it many times. And they always come across like big twats.

Usually someone is bringing something they saw on Tik-Tok or read on the internet rather than anything beyond superficial, but it must be annoying for people doing jobs to have to go through shitheads like that on a daily basis. We’re constantly being told what to do, or how things are etc. by kids and were creating a country full of idiots who think they can do whatever they want. This is a bigger issue than when I started this page so I might change book and explore this further.  

Ah, I like extreme weather. And rain, at least when you’re inside, is particularly satisfying to watch when it’s absolutely pelting it down. Bouncing outside and you’re indoors, warm, with a coffee, writing in a lovely leather bound journal with a nice pen as the heavens hammer down. Of course it sucks if you’re out in it, and there is always the dog to take out, but even he’s getting to an age where he actually says ‘fuck that’ and just goes back in the house anyway. It is cool to be indoors safe and listening, and watching the rain.

I remember that time I got caught in a thunderstorm coming off a mountain in the west. How we went up mountains without the knowledge of the MWIS! As the rains came we went for the trees, but then the lightning came and we had to just keep going. I’ve been wet on a lot of mountains, soaked, but that was once where I just waded through the river because it was quicker and didn’t feel any worse off. Mental. But also fun and memorable and probably 15 years ago, which is crazy but still sticks in my memory.

I forget about sound. I’m always too drawn into the sound in my head or the music or audiobook in my ears that I forget to use them to hear what is around me. This was most striking this morning when I heard the beautiful and moving birdsong. Perfect, and a lovely still morning to enjoy it in. It’s not always like that; it usually isn’t.

Yesterday when out in a field we tried a little game to hear things at different levels. There was a bird close by, we could hear that well over to the right somewhere but it remained invisible. There was some kids in the football pitch a little further over, not too loud actually but still there. Further on, taking over for now, a car goes past on the main road, but in the distance, on the edges of our hearing, M notices it. Like a quack she says and does an impression of the soon incoming formation of geese I heard a while ago and was hoping she’d pick up on. They’re still a way off but getting closer. Then we spot them and they fly by us in their distinctive pattern. Like a triangle she says, like an arrow I reply. We watch them disappear over the trees and houses, gurgling and gawking and honking their way to join the hundreds of others no doubt on the field a mile or two south.

Ah it’s been a slovenly week, and particularly weekend. I write this at night rather than in the morning as I didn’t have time for it today. My diet has been pish and I feel shitty for it. Despite this it was a nice day. Mixed North Sea wind at St Andrews with warm sun, rain, drizzle, sun again, warmth, dullness and now (9:00pm ish) quite mild. Weird but good. The girls played well with their cousins as we searched for Scotty dogs.

I am feeling autumnal as well as fat, but I have been enjoying being back out in the woods, looking, foraging, building fires. In fact this weekend started badly with those amazing ‘smores on Friday morning, can’t let that continue. God knows what this week is going to bring but I’m hoping for at least a bit of positivity. Last week was few and far between so that’s possibly why I lost all the good eating work this weekend. Our Friday trek was good. Back on it tomorrow. Every day is another chance, another step forward.

Last week we went on a train. It was the first time both girls have been on one, though both have been on the tram, M quite a few times now. B was so excited and we had a bit of time to wait before it came, every train she watched come into the station only for it never to be ours. Eventually it came. She didn’t get the window seat but sat facing out it nonetheless, so I made them swap. She sat most of the journey with her nose pressed up against the window exclaiming ‘Look, cows!’ or ‘Oh a car!’ or ‘Where’s our house?’ and many others at regular intervals. She even liked the tunnels leading up to Waverley.

This is exactly how I like to travel, taking everything in before it all goes anyway. And how it goes. I used to spend quite a bit of time on trains, now I can barely afford it. But that was only nine quid or something for us all which is pretty good. So maybe we’ll do it again in the October holiday. Maybe BB can sit on the other side of the train and see the north side. Her attitude to that and her excitement made me dead proud of who she is. Sometimes I see so much of me in M but it was good to see that part of her little sister was definitely me.

The eye of the beholder; that’s come up before. Let’s revisit that David Hume article before he gets cancelled. There was a lot of connections in that one if I remember correctly. Edinburgh, Metallica, my walk with JM, the Slough Feg story. ‘Beauty in things exist in the mind which contemplates them’, that’s the quote, and it’s a belter. And that is why things can be so wonderfully subjective, how one person can see the beauty while another cannot. While one person’s noise is another Beethoven. Someone’s child’s scrawl is another’s Rembrandt.

‘Turning the importance of the artwork from the artist to the viewer’. There, I just quoted myself and David Hume in the same article. What an ego! Details are necessary. Use your eyes like a child would, full of learning and wonder and new experience and hope. Let’s not forget hope. Hope can be seen as a bad thing, for too much hoping gets in the way of actual doing. Hoping you win the lottery isn’t going to make you win it. Buying the ticket might give you hope, but much better is to attain the financial leverage you need to not need to hope on the lottery. A mixed bag of thoughts today. Still windy, a strange mood, yesterday was tough. The woods call this morning, which is good.

The end of this volume, but not the end of the book. Maybe I should’ve bought a larger one to fit the year in fully, but it is what it is and I prefer these notebooks anyway. I have not seen the sunset properly for a while. The way our house sits you need to be outside or get a squint view out the kitchen window. And I’m not normally out at that time. Though last night I was. It set at 7:00pm; earlier tonight.

The rain after bjj was mad, well more during it but by the time I got to the Academy, the flooding was huge. It’s windy today again, very windy. 23mph south westerly according to my phone app but the way those tress are sitting it looks more than that. And that is the course of the day. Those new footballs are just going to take off. Got out into the woods, albeit briefly yesterday and had a wee fire. Storm be damned. If we went with the forecast you’d be too scared to leave the house, but it was just a bit of rain and not even that much. To hell with that, it’s always rained and been windy here. Always will be. Calm doon.

Overlooking is a very prescient thing and especially nowadays we are so accustomed to living in front of a screen. The world has become smaller but we have become further apart from each other. I include myself in this. If I think of my behaviour in the staffroom now, (sitting looking at my phone 80% of the time rather than interacting with my colleagues), if I did that ten years ago, I wouldn’t have a wife. No banter between me and my future soul mate and our friends at the time. No getting to know you period, no love, no wedding, no bairns. All because I sat looking at my phone instead.

I’m obviously not looking for a partner now, or even a friend, but workplace banter is important and I overlook that on a daily basis. I bet others do too. So I’m going to make more time to speak to my colleagues, even the ones who seem dead inside. Maybe I’ll learn something. How often do we look at a view for example and see the mountain in the distance but not the land that lies before it. I do this all the time. I feel a time of change is at hand, though I’m not sure of what. As we come to the end of this book, but not the project, maybe it’s just the timing. Maybe it starts, maybe it ends, maybe it changes. I’m not sure yet.

Aren’t we all just food for worms? Which truly makes us one with the earth. We shall all return to it one day whether it is in the form of ash blowing in the wind and evaporating, or in the slowly melting process of decay that comes from our flesh shrivelling and eventually falling away to the earth in the bellies of tiny beasties. Our bones may last longer but eventually they will not. Who are we to destroy this world that we will become part of anyway? Fools.

Warm still this morning, though windy. My head is a bit thick this morning, first bjj for a couple of weeks last night so I’m probably a bit unused to it. No exercise other than stretches and press ups as well hasn’t helped. Dehydrated too. The yeti in the Serengeti. A morning spent here at my desk would be welcome instead of the demands, insults and stuff breaking I know is coming. And as for this afternoon it’ll probably be a re-run of yesterday. Another no show but I’m not spending the going to the skatepark and babysitting. Such a waste of everyone’s time. When there is potential that is being wasted it is even worse, how can we encourage that and make the best of people if they won’t even come into the building? This has been even stranger than last year. And it’s only September.

As much as I tan the meat now, meaning that I eat it, a lot of it, I’m still as against me killing animals as I was all those vegetarian years. I don’t think I could really do a hunt. I may have mentioned this before, the once I went shooting and me and GG both took a pot shot at a bird that landed on one of the targets. If it’s that stupid it’s probably not going to last that long anyway but I’m glad we both missed as I felt really bad for even attempting it afterwards. (Takes bite of chicken). Could I do it in a survival sense? Yes, but that’s different. This was attempted murder for our amusement and it felt shit.

We are very detached to the food on our plate. Maybe that’s why I get a kick out of our home grown veg, or the amazing crumbles made from N’s apples with the wild brambles. It really is the best food. Even more detached from the killing of the chicken or the cow for my meals. We don’t even prep them. The last time I prepped a fish was probably a rainbow trout caught by S yonks ago. I skinned a pheasant he shot but that was years ago too. In fact that was my 40^th. I’ll be 46 soon, how many meals have I had since then? Windy today, last night was wild, but at least the rains off.

Lovely morning, cool and sunny with the added bonus of picking conkers this afternoon. I hope we find some like last year. We found an acorn in the garden yesterday and I noticed some more dotted about the ground next to the trees when we were collecting firewood. Had two fires yesterday. One on the morning with school. It was both reinvigorating and rejuvenating. I lay on the woodland floor amongst the twigs and pine needles in front of a small fire and it felt great. I felt so home and relaxed it was noticeable. And this was work!

Late in the afternoon, in an attempt to keep the girls away from a sleepy mum, we built a fire in the garden. It went up quickly and we sat and warmed our hands before they went indoors. I sat for a bit myself burning out the embers. Later once it had cooled I tidied and packed the fire bowl away. I went back inside and the sky went dark. The rain that came down then was incredible. The apple trees were almost bouncing off the ground in the wind. It was so wild I took a video which I don’t think I’ve ever done before. I thought I’d maybe send it to my cousin who is enjoying Colorado stillness at the moment, a nice counter to what they are missing in Scotland.

Humanity is a mystery. Man is a miscreant and I don’t think there is many people in general that wouldn’t fuck over someone else for their own gain. People are quite content to lead selfish lives and take care of their own base desires rather than look at any bigger picture. They are their own islands, humanity is not a thing because they are not part of it. Is this the idealism we see in youth where we always wish the world was a better place, until we are old and then we realise that that world was the better place. Then all we do is hanker back for the days that once were.

Once were what? More of something, less than something else. Does our lack of morality come from the lessening of the spiritual aspect of our lives? Do we need more or new religion to sort out our selfish minds, a return to a more moral life? Can a truly secular society be truly moral? We can of course be good people and lead good lives without the need of a god, but maybe we all can’t. Maybe I need to set an example with hard-core Catholicism. Knights Templar to the core.

The nature of success is sacrifice, and how much we are prepared to sacrifice in order to be a success. For example, I am unwilling to give up my job (at the moment anyway) in order to pursue other dreams. The comfort my family has and the ability to work it around my schedule for them is not worth the sacrifice, pursuing what would be an endlessly selfish act. If it was my only choice, that would be different, but it is not my only option. And let’s not forget the holidays are amazing. It would be nice never to have to deal with idiots but hey ho, maybe that’s a sacrifice too.

Mastery is only achieved through practice and countless hours of this, in which other pursuits are sacrificed. These undoubtedly are mostly social, and true masters show something lacking in this area because of it. Or maybe those even on the journey too. I’m getting old, I feel it, and the things I need to sacrifice now aren’t as straightforward as not going out on a Saturday night for example in favour of practising guitar, which I never did anyway. I would be better off if I had, both in terms of finances and skill. But thems the breaks and we make our choices.

I have used others as inspiration and need to get back to this. If this is indeed a break from bjj and weight lifting due to injury I need to make the most of it in other areas and that means writing, posting and promoting LW shit again; at the moment it’s stagnant. Sure I’ve made some progress in places but not in a few weeks. I’m over social media. I actually don’t care about any of it so why should anyone else care about mine? They don’t, and they shouldn’t. In an ideal world it wouldn’t be about anyone else’s anyway. It’s like a learning journal that the girls had at nursery. See-Saw for adults. Do we really need to record and justify our lives to others, constantly? Is that the job of the writer anyway? This is just a means for anyone to do it and express themselves as they see fit. Of course that’s a good thing, but it opens up the expectation and reality nature of it. Writing has a soul, because that’s where it comes from. Social media has none because it comes from the immediate eye and is entirely selfish. Regardless of what we say, the likes, the follows, the shares is the most important part. And that is not even bullshit, that’s horseshit.

Where is my relationship with music at these days? I barely play. I barely practice. I want to finish of this demo but have no desire to play the band live, merely to have a tape release before my music inspiration leaves me entirely. New music, forever something I was interested in seems to have left me and I can’t even be bothered going to gigs. They don’t appeal to me anymore as all the touring bands see to me to be copies of each other, same gear, same sound, same clothes, same opinions. And there is very little danger left in this world. Where is the edge? Not that U2 guy but the Taake or the Gorgoroth. Even the death metal bands are nice.

I haven’t stopped listening to the GZA/Muggs album Grandmasters because it is chess themed. Perhaps I should write some chess-metal. But it is a shame to waste M’s talents and for me not to be involved in them, he is the perfect drummer for me and a good friend. If only we’d met five years before, or he even could’ve been in Wolf Sermon longer. My record collection doesn’t get any bigger. Indeed I attempt at times to decrease it. Such is the way with music in the world. Too much, too little.

What does it mean to be published? Evidently little to HDT. I suppose the biggie is that it is someone else footing the bill. To see your name and your work in a book that you’ve not paid for must be gratifying. But I think more than that is the knowing that someone else sees equal amount of value in your work as you do. If you believe in it, you do it, and will keep on doing it because you want/need/must do it. And for some other person or company to see enough value in it, even if it is for the sole purpose of making money, must be nice. It’s nice to be appreciated.

Far removed from the killing of anything in this luxury. I’ve eaten the equivalent of a moose. My belly is stuffed full of Scottish breakfast, pastries and the best granola I’ve ever had in my life. The waitress even gave us a bag to take away. This really is a touch of luxury for us and we always come away feeling relaxed and refreshed in the body and the mind from here. So far from a campfire and hunt, but needed just the same. The best present for us money can’t buy is the time to do this for ourselves.

One of the great pleasures of life is how tapes fit in shoe boxes. This is made considerably better if you have a nice shoe box. What has this to do with outdoors? Nothing, but its pishing of rain the now, and early so I’ve not been out with the dog yet and I’m drinking coffee with almond milk which is disgusting and listening to tapes instead. I’ve put tapes in shoe boxes since I moved out as a 17 year old. I use to have an absolute ton of skate shoe boxes filled with tapes and now only have about four of them. Though I have two in here as well filled with good shit, the others filled with old shit are upstairs.

Man this coffee is disgusting. Finally taken that copy of Timewave Zero off the tape deck and stuck in that Junior Disprol tape for a change and a difference. There has been nothing else on this little stereo for ages except the new Hellripper album, Warlocks Grim and Withered Hags and the ever present Pale Riders cd. That has barely moved since it came out. It’s the only cd in this room but its excellent and a new album due out soon. I’ll need to get a copy going by the amount of times I’ve played the first one regardless of shipping. That album and its message are ace.

Falling asleep in summer, waking up in autumn. Leaves on the ground now, the path partly covered but because of the heavy rain they are manky and not very pretty. M dreams of jumping in piles of brown leaves but I told her we need to wait until they’re dry. And she often asks to go to the woods, we just haven’t found the time, or the weather. Tuesday we’re all off, so maybe then.

Autumn is a wonderful time. The afternoons, and late mornings, are actually sunny and tend to be warm. The nights are cold and still and dark by half eight. Which is fine as we know it’ll soon be dark by five o’clock and then earlier. I think I would be in favour of abolishing the daylight saving hours. I think I’ve mentioned that somewhere before. At least then it wouldn’t feel like we’re living in perpetual fucking darkness during the four or five winter months. Perhaps the population would be slightly happier and seasonal disorder would be less of a thing. Going to work in the dark, coming home in the dark can wear folk down and it’s no wonder spring comes as a massive relief and joy.

Though isn’t this right, isn’t this how we should feel. If we wanted sun and warmth continually we’d move to Spain, or California, or Australia. Conversely if you’re Spanish or Italian and moan about the weather here then you can fuck right off back to Madrid or Rome where the weather is undoubtedly braw all year round. I think that’s what I enjoy most about being on holiday besides the learning experiences you gain from being abroad. The change in the elements. The warmth in the air, whether it’s the dryness of Spain or Greece or the humidity of Thailand. The change in the air in Norway is significant, the stillness and not the harsh North Sea wind we get.

I can’t say there is any noticeable late summer flowers cropping up along the paths and roadsides. Big drop in temperature from a few days ago though. Chilly this morning and I could see my breathe for the first time. A cold wind but still, the sun is rising and casting a nice glow on the trees across the road as their tops dance and jiggle about like some alluring dance or ritual that should not be for human eyes.

Where am I looking today? Sometimes these prompts throw up and obvious pointer to me but increasingly they don’t. It must be to do with the fact that we’re well into the second half of the book now and this is day couple of hundred. Weirdly my back and hip feel better after a return to jiu-jitsu on Monday night, but now I have a hurting foot. My right this time so at least I’m a bit more balanced out on my brokenness. Had a bath last night as it has been a hell of a week already and its only Wednesday morning. Three violent incidents already in two days.

It’ll soon be time to climb the Rabbit Hill and go looking for conkers again, a truly magnificent autumnal pastime. I really love that time, the bairns get so excited and the satisfaction of finding a good one extends into adulthood if we keep that sense of wonder and excitement. We used to go down to the river where it goes under the oddly named Nelson Mandela Bridge. I’m not sure Mandela ever lived near it or even crossed it, but there are a few trees that dangle into the water and drop their cones into it. Here the best conkers are to be found, or were to be found, because there have been none in the last few years.

There was a time where we could harvest thousands there. Maybe they are all snatched up quicker now with all the new houses at the top of the hill, but that seems unlikely. Maybe the trees are having a few years off. Either way, Rabbit Hill came up tops last year, but not at the place I expected. It’s worth further investigating and I see no reason why our rewards can’t be as good this year. Timing is key. Timing is everything. Can’t seem to get the book the Nature of Autumn by Jim Crumley on Amazon or Ebay. Will need to try an actual shop. Good.

Is it not the case that moral freedoms only work for those who have them? Those who do not act in their own way to achieve their own selfish goals regardless of anyone else’s lives, property, goods or even morals? Being bold can be powerful, yet it can fuck over people too and take unfair advantage. Where is the morality there? We are not all Jean Valjen. Morals come from being a good person, and this comes not from God but from choice. Perhaps I have to read more about this without having nightmares about that moral philosophy class I once did.

Again in the irony that is my life I’d probably quite enjoy it now.

Freedom at the expense of others is not freedom. Morals at the expense of others is not morality. Is this the latent (or perhaps obvious) Buddhist in me that wants to exist without harming anything? But I’ll quite happily eat anything with wings or a tail so I’m a hypocrite anyway. This balance I can take, but I’m not fucking over anyone for personal gain.

Maybe we need a moor burn ourselves. Maybe that’s what this period has been for me, a burning, a cleansing. A release. I am 78.8kg right now, which suggest to me that maybe I can make that under 78kg weight category for competitions. Or maybe it’s 77kg. Clearly it’s my muscle mass dropping off and I’ll be back to square one of the 5,3,1 should I choose to use that again. I see no reason not to, it’s good for me to follow something, but I must admit, it’s also been good for me to rest up too. My back/hip isn’t hurting the way it was and I’m not chomping on ibuprofen like they’re sweeties, or wearing my daughter’s hot water bottle at work. The movement, or lack of it is the worrying part, but that could be just down to being an old guy. I was always quite lucky with knee and back issues really, they tend to be the first things to go in men.

Beautiful morning now, sun streaming in though it was overcast and warm when we were out earlier. Thunderstorms predicted later to shift the oppressive heat, but I’m not complaining. I like both the heavy rain and the hard hitting sun. Both give life, let’s take it.

A man sees only what concerns him. How true this is, most people do not even recognise or notice what they see. They remember the high powered fancy car someone drove past them on the way home and tell their wives. They do not tell them of the flock of geese that flew across the sunset. They saw it, but they did not ‘see’ it because it did not concern them. Nor did they notice the deer in the field next to the country road they took as a short cut to get home. Those things are of no concern to most people, but what a difference they can make to your ability to know the world, the natural world.

Notice that when you walk along a path there are multiple variants of plants, bushes, trees and hedgerows on that one short area. Many many species, yet you may only see one. Or see weeds. Some may only notice the rosehip because it is eye catching and produces red fruit you remember from childhood, or the pretty pink flowers that are light and have a very subtle smell. But do they notice the thistles that climb nearly as high, the nettles that cover the ground around it, the coniferous trees that shade it or even the oaks that guard it?

Know the land, know what to expect, what you should see and then when you do see something wonderfully out of the ordinary, like the flock of geese flying over the sunset, it puts the other things in a much bigger and better context that extends cosmologically if we dare to go that far. We do. And I’d rather hear that the rosehips are growing large due to all the rain than that someone somewhere has a fast car.

Strong signs of autumn today; bronzed leaves on the trees, spider’s webs sparkle in the bushes, the ground heavy with dew. It is nice. What are we contemplating? The long night ahead with the Borders Ball, the afternoon piled with commitments, the travel into and then straight outta Edinburgh, the constant philosophical and spiritual questions, burning like the pain in my back and the inflexibility in my hips. Do I just lay down to die? Accept that I’ll never move like I used to? Get back on it? Mobility is good for the soul, is better for the mind.

Finding the God in nature. Where is he this morning as the thick fog rolls in as I am watching? It wasn’t like this half an hour ago when we were out. Does it still count as haar when we don’t live by the sea? Does it not all come from the same place? The tall trees are now a subtle shade of disappearing grey. We tend to think of the god in nature with relation to the sunshine. I wonder why this is. So many depictions of God in the heavens shining down on man, a beacon of light in a world of misery and darkness. When the warmth of the sun, sol, helios, sunna, hits us we feel the touch of God lighting our hearts, bodies and minds.

Yet nobody talks of god in the fog. The god of the rain that feeds the plants and the trees that gives us the oxygen to breathe. Sure there is the Gods of Thunder of Winds and of Rain, Thor, Freya, Indra, Zeus, all are ever present in Scotland. I look to see the God of nature in all weathers, all seasons. Can you feel it as strongly on a dreich February day of murk and bog as well as in stunningly long July days? Or maybe in September as this fog will no doubt burn off to reveal the heat of yesterday.

This idea of leading many lives, or spending many lives is an interesting one to reflect on. Maybe now more than ever as I am in this recovery funk and not training; no weights, no jiu-jitsu, just stretching and ginastica natural every day. Short and sweet. And I feel better, nearly there, not as broken as I was a few weeks ago. This is my second life as a bjj guy. Like James Bond, except maybe you can live more than twice.

What was I in those years in between? A weight lifter, a gig go-er, band leader, well not leader but frontman (weirdly) of a band almost at the forefront of the Edinburgh death metal scene, which at the time was zero.

A husband first and foremost and then of course a father, which I must say was the best bit. The same employment has permeated throughout that time, and still does, though nowadays it is very different, quite fractured as we try to contend with the varied needs of the pupils we have. My life as a professional does not develop as much as it evolves in its simplicity. We break things down to the core of what these children need and can manage and hopefully they learn and benefit from it, however long it may take.

I’ve done the musician thing, endless jamming and the driving to gigs, carrying gear in and out the car or van. Now my gigs are a handful a year and I’m fine with that. I’m a business owner, which for all its failings, is still a business, just one that doesn’t make any money. I don’t promote it at all but the core ideals remain, and the writings continue.

In previous lives I’ve been a skateboarder, so I have a fair bit of insight into that world, from the 90s anyway, and I’ve been a record collector. The hundreds of records at my feet are testament to that. When are cds going to make a comeback? I’ve been a student a full time dishwasher, a traveller, worked in a record shop, unemployed, a failed teacher, a drunk, and more. It is quite possible to lead many lives and it is exciting to think of what the next one may be. I’ve climbed a fair few mountains too…

Seasonal food in the air just now with this second coming of summer, the late summer, I don’t know why it’s known as the Indian summer. Whatever the reason, it is very welcome and the change in people’s attitudes and demeanour in these lovely mornings and evenings is evident. Weather is a massive topic of conversation in this country. Do they do that in France or Afghanistan quite as much as we Scots do? Or are we the only ones obsessed by it?

The sunsets currently around 8:30 are great and the mornings are still and calm. Long may that last; but it won’t before the collective depression and misery of soggy winter days arrive once more and people will hide, hibernate and not speak to each other until spring.

All wisdom is the reward of a discipline, conscious or unconscious…cultivate reverence. And that is how knowledge is accrued, by being an extremist, by taking it to the levels of obsession that can only bring true understanding. All the great thinkers, religious or otherwise went through horrendous ordeals of discipline, physically, mentally and spiritually. Nothing came without effort, nothing comes naturally, not even enlightenment. It took the Buddha years of wandering and learning, having cast off his previous princely life. It takes hours and hours of countless effort to achieve a bodybuilder’s physique, not just ‘roids. Odin hung on a tree for nine night in order to gain the wisdom of the runes but he did not know it was going to be nine. It might have been a year, he was willing to face that. Jesus wandered in the desert for 40 days and nights.

“What’s the secret to your song writing ability Elton John?”

“Well I’ve been doing it a long time”.

Whether or not any of this is unconscious I’d argue; how many examples of someone achieving wisdom through a dream is there? I’m not sure. There is far more examples of it being through effort, which is the area I’m most interested in anyway. This book is getting towards the end. I should’ve maybe looked to one with more pages as it was always intended to be daily, but another one exactly the same came in the mail the other day. What next year will bring is still out for debate.

We do not want to mimic anyone else’s life. This is for shallow people, mirroring those they deem worthy to copy. ‘We’re not worthy!’ Who decides that? How is a desirable lifestyle of someone else ever a good aim? Surely this just leads to the classic ‘keeping up with the Jones’s’ cliché. What’s the difference? Precious little perhaps. No one’s experience is ever the same, therefore no one’s life should be an attempt at copy of somebody else’s. It is not a form of flattery, it is a form of submission as you accept that your life is inadequate in such a way, that you are so inadequate that you have to mimic the lives of others in order to find satisfaction/salvation/peace/harmony/ whatever it is that you are looking for.

And guess what, you’ll never find it, for the only way is to find you, the true you, the GOD within you, for this is power over self and the only way to become anything other than an unsatisfied copier. Accept no influence. Be the influencer.

What a day, very nice, warm, sunny, no wind which is a bonus. Picked fruit, sat outside and combed the dog. Went to an independence march. The girls did great despite BB not being too well last night. We walked from Moray House down to parliament and back. It was a beautiful sight seeing all those saltires, and as we walked just behind the pipes and drums we heard it all. I find it all very emotional and can barely speak during a lot of it. Sometimes all I can do is just smile. And be a nation again.

In December 2022 I came to the end of a year of directed journal writing. It had become a habit I didn’t want to lose but was unsure of where to take it next. I decided to try and focus my writing away from ‘me’ and force myself to write more about nature and the outdoors. How I was going to do this was a problem, without the content merely recalling my walk that morning or discussing the weather.

Within the last few days of 2022 I came upon the book The Daily Thoreau, a perfect collection of daily quotes from the man behind the phrase Live Deliberately. You can read more about his influence on Last Wolf here. https://lastwolf.co.uk/walden-or-life-in-the-woods/

I began my 2023 journal using these quotes as a springboard for my own thoughts. Sometimes I mention his words specifically, a lot of the time I don’t. Sometimes I don’t understand what he’s on about and others it’s just me rambling. A lot of it mentions the weather and dog walks, but remember, the vast majority was written very early in the morning so probably won’t make much sense anyway. It is presented as un-edited as possible.

Live Deliberately,

Barry

Beautiful morning. The mornings are great just now and we were out earlier than usual today to see the sun arriving over the new houses and drying the newly cut grass which sticks everywhere. Fully light now, a bright blue with thin clouds high and unmoving. It’s very still and very magical. Oh for a long woodland walk just now rather than the jostle of school runs and commutes. But it is not forever and I must remember this and enjoy it while I still can, and while it still happens. Welcome September. Hello to autumn.

Social in a high and rare sense. It is rare for me to have time for a decent conversation with anyone other than K. This is why I must make an effort to sit round a fire, or in the living room, or like recently travel in the car of friends as this is dedicated time where all you can do is be social. A good hike in the woods is desirable, particularly after not seeing much this summer. Maybe we should take a candle up Kaimes for a few hours one Friday night. Out for Japanese food on Saturday though so that’ll be good as well.

I wonder if there are any untamed, wild and ancient pockets of land around here. Is every nook and cranny taken over and either cultivated or built upon? It seems like they would squeeze a house in anywhere these days, particularly in cities, but even out here. But there must be untouched parts, however small somewhere. My best guess would be the areas of trees or woodland joining fields. No real path leads to these and no real path leads through it. The floor is old and filled with natural debris, wind fallen trees and thorns and brambles and nettles and bracken and ferns. No one walks here so no path is discernible. Farmers use these areas as wind breaks and are unconcerned with the management of them. They must be owned by someone though, or are they just the by-product of owning the fields?

Owning the fields around your woodland must be nice as obviously access has to be required and if you don’t own them then accessing them would be through the farmer’s field. Woodland joins farmland so it’s perhaps worth considering or investigating a wee bit more.  I would love a small plot of woodland, inaccessible to anyone other than myself and build shelters, camps and generally enjoy the woods without feeling we are encroaching on someone else. Perhaps even scare off the poachers if that’s what farmers are anxious of. If I had a little money that is what I’d like to do. But alas I am near £300 down into an unplanned overdraft this month so it seems unlikely!

I remember harvest being a big deal at school. Every year there would be a big display in the hall at school, primary that is, I don’t recall it being a thing at high school, though it might’ve been and I just don’t remember. There was all sorts of food; Heinz tomato tins were particularly popular for some reason. They made a big display of it along with some hay wreaths and autumnal dried flowers and no doubt Bill Flett took a black and white picture with some smiling bairns in it for The Courier. The food then, I believe, went to the old folks home, which is what they were called then. I liked harvest time, there was a change in the season and I liked the colours. Still do. I’m a big fan of all the seasons, for all different reasons, and autumn, now rapidly approaching is up there as one of the best. Top four anyway. Bring it on.

I’ve never been much of a poet, though have dabbled occasionally and I like to read it. There is obviously a small back catalogue of songs and a forthcoming one too if I get my finger out, but they are most definitely lyrics and not poems by a long shot. But then my dad is on the cusp of publishing his first book of poetry which is mental to think, and that in the intro to the book he says he never wrote one until he was 47. Or maybe it was 49, I can’t remember but it is still older than I am now. Slightly.

It just shows that even when your 75, seeds that you have put down over thirty years before can still reap its rewards. This is incredibly cool and I am very pleased and proud of him. There’s that word again. ‘Pride’. It’s cropped up as a result of this past weekend. Pride in relating to others for sure, but still it’s an odd feeling for me, here, now. Proud in my dad for what he’s achieved with the statue, the books (three volumes of Tales from the East Neuk thus far), and the collective he’s amassed. Proud of my wife for the way she raises our family, yet works like there’s no tomorrow. Proud of my children for challenging themselves and being who they are. Proud of me too? Pride. We’re doing good.

And I did! I will write this properly elsewhere for this is not the right place. But it is momentous enough to warrant an entry into my daily journal despite its purpose. I took silver in the Absolute division, which I was pleased with, very pleased with actually. I dominated my first fight and won 14-0. In the final I got beat, I’m unsure of the score, but he didn’t get the sub. He had competed loads at white belt and was about to get his blue. In my weight division I lost to a big strong Polish dude 2-0 because he got a takedown maybe. A dull bad wrestling match which was bad but I couldn’t move much. I fought another guy and won 6-0 so I won gold on points. Well chuffed.

Not much more on my mind this morning other than the competition. The desire to do well and to perform at my best is still there. Hell we all have to fight through injury so I think I just need to suck it up, warm up properly and do what I can. My jiu-jitsu is good, I know this, I am confident in it. I know I can do well and I will come home with medals. I want to win. I will win.

It’s a beautiful morning, the air still with only a slight breeze at the top of the trees. The ground dry except for the dew. The temperature, for now cool, but promising to be warmer when the sun is higher in the sky. Sun out in parts. Cloudy, but promising, we shall see. However the promising outlook does not continue to the state of my body for the weekend.

There is no time to spare. Hence why I wanted to strike while the iron is hot and get a competition in while I wanted to and felt good. But as this immobility lingers on and on, it is looking less and less likely I’ll be able to. Which is horseshit. I’m actually gutted but unless Dr L can pull off a miracle tomorrow I’ll be pulling out of the contest I was so looking forward to. It’s not a matter of a sore shoulder, or leg or something I can work around, this is reducing my mobility to merely up and down, whilst still in pain with almost nothing from side to side or even hinging at the hip. In other words, pretty much everything jiu-jitsu relies on. I have less than two days.

M is downstairs doing her first homework. Her little sister is copying her. They both make me smile more than anything ever has and I actually love it more and more each day. This stage has moved on from the proper infants they were, and they’ve now begun to make me proud in a different way. This is a P.E. day too and the older one is loving it.

I wonder when, as a species, we will wake up to this idea that nature is a healer, and looking to us to protect us from all the wildness and deviousness of the human mind. When did the shaman or witch who used nature’s healing powers in order to make us better, not just in health, but also as people, become so despised; exiled to the fringes of society as doctors and their corporate sponsors took over.

The sun is not your enemy. Skin cancers are caused for a people who are never in it. The sun is not your enemy. It is not to be feared, it is the thing that has given us life. On today, the 23^rd, my best friend’s birthday, I want to recognise its glory and power, especially how it rose up to greet me this morning. It deserves a bit of honour, for we have forgotten it and take it for granted. The ancients didn’t and worshipped it well as the life-giver it is. Stay solar.

I haven’t had a good walk in a while. Last time I was rained on quite considerably. Mercifully it was a short day compared to what we had planned, it was wet and miserable. I don’t think I’d get very far at the moment anyway as I now think my sore back might be a trapped nerve. Although Walking isn’t bad and is actually preferable to sitting down, I still hurt every step so that’s not great. Maybe I’ll take the dog on more of a longer dander tonight as I can’t work out.

I wonder why it was walking I got into? Why not running like DC or cycling like NH does? Perhaps it is because essentially I am skinflint and walking requires very little in the way of expensive gear and transport. Even less than running really. Or maybe it’s the accessibility, after all anyone with a pair of legs can walk. I think there is maybe something also in where I was brought up, in that I mean the position of my house rather than the town. I had to walk to my friend’s house to see them as I didn’t play with the kids in my street. Or cycle. And it was always a fair distance, my house being one of the last in the town. It was always a fair distance to get anywhere. I also walked to school every single day so it was something I was used to even by the time I was a teenager and walking seven miles for a night out. I’m glad M&B want to walk to school, I just wish I could say yes.

Looking out over water must be nice. I’d like a desk to write with a view out over water when I am old. I shall sit at it and write till my hearts content and maybe even spend entire days doing nothing else. In 30 years I shall be the age of my dad. I hope I don’t have a sore back like I do now. M and B will be in their mid-30s so I won’t need to be worrying about them so much, though, I’m more trapped in my own world and mum does all the worrying for them anyway. I see no reason why that would change in our 70s.

I do not wish our lives away though, far from it. I live in the moment, sometimes intensely. Jiu-jitsu is excellent for this, but so was yesterday, taking it easy, chilling in the garden. But back to the view with water. This could be a holiday cottage most likely where we could take a week and walk and write. No roller-coasters. The sound of that is appealing already. Do I change my Damnation weekend to one of mountain climbs and writing? It’s so weather dependent isn’t it? But to look over a loch now, still and calm with rain drops bouncing off the surface does sound idyllic, and a definite aim, despite my sore back.  

“A traveller who looks at things with an impartial eye may see what the oldest inhabitant has not observed.”

HDT 20/8/1851

One of the reasons why travel is so good and I’m looking forward to seeing Paris and Venice through a child’s eyes next year. However, I always enjoyed showing my friends around the area I grew up. It was nice to be a tour guide, especially for my foreign pals, in one’s own home town. It is true that they see things a little differently than I would. Where we would see danger or idiots, they saw tranquillity and a Scottish wholesomeness we missed until we were older. One of them of course returned the favour ten times over as he became a tourist in his area of Italy for me, and I hope he enjoyed it as well. The care-freeness of it all remains some of my favourite memories. Our time in Florence my best.

This was an age of course when we didn’t care and we made a mess of ourselves, (well at least I did), almost every night. My excuse; it helped me understand Italian, which was obviously not true, it just gave me the confidence to understand them. Good guys and gals, all of them. He had a good bunch of pals there and they were all very loyal to each other. I wonder if there is a story in that adventure.

Perhaps I need to cultivate a bit of animal spirit. It’s windy here today. I feel weak and sore, the opposite of what I wanted to be this week. I should be going to get my ass handed to me at FH, but instead I’m sitting at my desk looking out the window at the trees blowing in the wind with a hot water bottle on my lower back. I have no movement in my hips, cant bend at the waist very well, and the girls had to help me put on my socks this morning. Great timing. I don’t want to pull out of this competition but there is a week left and I need to be able to at least bridge and shrimp if nothing else.

The wind is blowing the old incense along the windowsill and onto the floor. The wind isn’t one directional, it is all ways. The bushes are blowing in a circular way, not just to my left as they usually do. The trees are doing full pirouettes, the branches waving like those inflatable monsters. How my back is burning and my hip tight and my leg sore. This sucks.

I had visions of me sitting outside by an old pine, chirping out melodies on a carved wooden flute the way Bill does on the porch of the little chapel, before the massacre. Peaceful, calm and serene. An easy instrument to pick out a little improvised melody. Or so I thought. Then the opportunity to get one came. I’d never seen a shop like it, and maybe I never will again. In Camden, top end, past the market and lock, there was a flute shop. I recall it being wooden instruments only, but I could be wrong about that.

These were beautiful, and I chose what I considered to be the most beautiful, but also the humblest looking one. I wanted no airs or graces about this instrument; it was to be as simple as the idea I had envisaged for it. To be carried, to be used, to be enjoyed while sitting cross legged in nature, the way an electric guitar is not. The shop owner warned me, this was a difficult instrument to play, and I should’ve listened. My vanity took over and my mum paid £40 for this wooden flute for my birthday. It remains beautiful and humble. I actually love it, and I still look at it and hold it regularly. But it also sadly remains un-played being truly one of the hardest flute based instruments in the world to play!

Mood can be dictated by nature. Who can’t be lifted by the sight of the sun coming up, beams of light breaking through gaps in trees and falling on our faces, inspiring and wonderful? It has been a while since I felt such a sensation, preferring to spend this part of the year sweating in a gi rolling around the floor with some other men. But this can also dictate mood. Weirdly, it makes me feel good, it chills me out by putting me under immense pressure. Last night, the coach took a picture of me trying to rear naked choke my opponent. The intensity and focus in my eyes was ace.

Reflecting upon it, I spent most of that time surviving his attacks, from turtle position initially and then the top, only to take his back towards the end of the round. I would have got the submission if I had a little more time. I was not thinking about anything at this time. I could not tell you what music was on. I was not aware of the coach taking pictures. I was intent on surviving and then taking advantage when given an opportunity, which is what I did. I was totally zenned out to that moment and task, which is like a meditation to me. If only everyone could have these experiences.

Of course now we are back at work and the kids returned to school, the weather takes a shift for the better. Temperatures up to 20˚C, sun is out for a good part of the day, though it is cloudy at other points and even torrential rain at others yesterday. It dries up quickly. Unfair how it waits until now to change and I suspect September will be even better. My back, lower left side has been sore for a few days, since Friday and taking a while to clear. It should be away by now and it’s stopping me from doing this final squat session. I’m not hitting very big numbers these days, my 1RM has dropped to about 80%.

While this is annoying I do need to recognise that I am almost upon my 46^th birthday and that is a slippery slope to 50. I want a blue belt by then and think I’m on the right track, just be consistent and show up. Yesterday I struggled through the workout. It was boring and I was unmotivated. Still, halfway through I realised I was there doing it, and that is the point. I persevered and the workout got done. They’re not all going to go well, but they all count. And it is the showing up and consistently doing the work that is required to make progress.

‘Remembering my ignorance’ is something I think of often. I’m glad to see it’s a sign of growth, progress and most likely maturity as well. You know shit when you’re younger, yet you think you know it all. I’m sure I’d do a better job in nearly all my jobs if I was doing them now. I was thinking of this in relation to my jiu-jitsu game earlier and how I previously did not understand key principles as position, or opponent’s hips movement. Almost embarrassing to think I competed once with knowing shit and even something like that little bit of kimura knowledge would have won me a second fight. Funny how that is the one I remember, not the victory.

What did I even know back then? That I was neither strong nor explosive and with very little arsenal. My arm-bars sucked. I know so much more about control now, and obviously have a bit more weight and strength about me too. Still, the fact that I know more now and still know shit is encouraging. Even the best black belts acknowledge this, so I’m in good company. Jiu-jitsu is life and I’m enjoying exploring this again in relation to my own. Just better.

Ready to go back to work? Really ready? No and yes is the answer. Ready to go, yes. Want to go, no. Would I prefer to sit here a bit longer and write further in some other book and then go for a longer stroll in the woods than I have time for while the sun rises? Yes. But work I am resigned to, and whilst, I do not love my job, (I reserve that word for only certain things, my family, my dog, reading, Iron Maiden), I know I at least like it and tolerate it enough for it to bring me the lifestyle I enjoy. I do not dread it, so let’s get going.

And it is with sadness, slight trepidation, and slight satisfaction even that we come to the end of summer, both in terms of job, holidays and school, and weather wise in terms of cloud cover and rain. Though when the sun is out the temperature is high. It’s been a good summer for us, a great one. We have achieved much and experienced loads. I’ve loved time with these girls. I’ve loved time with my wife. We are lucky, very lucky that we are in a position to be able to do this. But we must also remember that we put ourselves in this position. We earned it, we worked hard for it, and we deserve it. We made it work for us, and in fact, that’s not luck.

Big change in the evenings now, it’s actually getting dark, sunset currently is just after nine. Last night, while out about 10:30 with the dog it was drizzly and cold (again) and it felt like November. Only I had shorts on, and no hat! What that was about I don’t know. Imagine not having a hat. But the darker nights do not go so well with mountain escapes and perhaps that moment has passed for this year and the odd guerrilla Saturday will need to replace it. Or Sundays even if Saturdays are to become our day of action, swimming and ninjas, leaving Sunday, the Lord’s Day for our day of activity. I hope it works out. It should.

Birds do not sing in caves. Perhaps I need an evening of meditation on top of a mountain to help my soul sing more. Mount Athos and Mount Fuji are famous sacred spaces where people would live and pray and be content. Do I need a retreat? A retreat from what exactly? Or is it just that end of summer panic setting in? Either way it is the nursery leaver’s celebration today and that will be great.

Joy is manifest in the children, in my daughters, now that is pride, that is joy. M leaves nursery tomorrow and starts P1 on Tuesday. Have I not felt such pride before? Nothing even comes close, and all she had to do was be herself, which is amazing. BB has really come out this summer, wild but more articulate, more grown and ready to take on her sister’s role. Pride? The word isn’t even close just the closest I can think of. Pure unfiltered unadulterated utter love. Nothing comes close, nothing relates.

Small fruits is a strange entry today. We need to check that big bramble bush over by the new houses. We’re going strawberry picking again today, always a highlight reel summer activity. And the raspberries we picked all turned to mush and the girls couldn’t pick them up. They all went into my smoothie though, the whole packet, expect for the ones that had truly turned to liquid, furry or fell out. Would be much easier to pick your own out the back every day.  

It’s cold again today. This has to be the coldest summer in the last wee while. Are we entering a new ice age? My hands are permanently cold especially in the morning and I’ve had to wear the Chewbacca dressing gown sometimes at night. BB’s hands and feet are cold in the morning though M doesn’t seem to notice. The house is colder since we got the boiler fixed for sure but its outside too, cold and windy in the morning going to nursery, cold and windy in the evening too. Perhaps this is going to be our lot in the coming climate change. A cold wet wintry country gets colder wetter and windier. Global warming, except for Scotland, whose summer will be reduced from two weeks in June and a day in September.

It’s a beautiful and cold night. I miss my best pal on nights like this. Well, all the time really but it’s easier him being on holiday rather than bothering the painter when he’s in for three days. He’ll be getting spoiled for scran, walks, cuddles and long lies though; having a ball. The dog not the painter.

I read an impressive article in the local paper about a lady who lived for a year off foods found around the central belt but mostly West Lothian. She obviously brings a great deal of knowledge, everything she ate was foraged. It can’t have been easy and I imagine most of it was stored as much as possible and dried, frozen or kept preserved. She has written a book so I could find out. How this would extend beyond eating mere leaves and mushrooms is incredible.

If more people did this though, the less chance she would have of even surviving. Your favourite mushroom patch, picked, scavenged by everyone else, the whole town descending, and by that time no one would leave any for next year’s regeneration. You can’t pick ‘em all no matter how hungry you are. Then the businesses would move in. First the small cafes and sellers, the larger restaurants and merchants, and then inevitably the corporations. The supermarkets, the chains and the food would be fucked and our original author would starve. She’d end up having to go to the shop and buying what she used to pick for free. What a world.

Some of the happiest memories I have from my childhood involves me playing outside. And the best of these are playing on bales at precisely this time of year. It was fun, it was tiring, it was illegal, it was fairly dangerous, but boy was it great. Summer nights coming to a close, a range of ages of boys, always boys, building and climbing and chasing and even looking out for the farmer; in it together against a common foe. It was excellent for the few years it lasted and clearly made an impression.

Every creature is better alive than dead, though we do need wood to build our houses, our fires and meat to feed our bellies. I’ve had enough of ‘fake’ food, I don’t ever want any of that again. Plant based tastes like shit anyway and it’s all weirdly not real. Grown in a lab does not constitute health for me. Veg and meat from now on. I just don’t trust that stuff anymore. I ate Quorn the other day to bulk out my chicken and felt bloated. I question the nutritional value. I don’t want it.

Little bit of heat in the air today, just a little bit which reminded me of summer. When out this morning, just after seven, it even smelled a bit like it. The smell of summer which we have not had for some time now. And as I sit here looking out I see the sun for the first time in a while, although it is quite cloudy, they are clouds of candy floss, puffy and white against the distant blue. The ever present wind is with us still, the trees continually bowing eastwards, but with less force. Perhaps I should say leaves and branches, not the tree itself, which shows how slight it is today.

Those trees over there were thinned, and chopped down when they started building that extra house. I can see the roof of it. It probably gave the houses in front of us a lot more light in their gardens and maybe even to their back door, but it was a shame to see them go, tall pines. Saying that the ones in our garden are getting older and therefore bigger anyway. Today is a chilled day, I might even have the day off from the garage. Sit here and read and write and chill…

Lonely? Nah, not a chance. Have I ever felt it? I genuinely don’t think so. In surrounding myself with jiu-jitsu guys I’m meeting people, increasing my social circle and the males I hang around with. The girls I am friends with are sometimes more interesting than the fellas, there is some truth in this, though maybe interesting is the wrong word. More motivated, inspiring to be around is maybe closer to what I mean.

As a 45 year old it’s hard to make ‘friends’ as such and I do rely on the ones that are 20+ year old ones for the main part. It’s easy to make training partners, just be a good one, and this is maybe what I’m collecting now. But it’s a start and it’ll do for now. The mountain might be lonely but I always know I’m only a short distance or drive away from not being lonely, so it doesn’t count. There is a difference to being on your own, which can be quite nice. Solitude can be searched for, loneliness is forced upon through circumstances, or personalities. But I am pleased I am challenging myself in this area and being around others more. And it helps in doing jiu-jitsu too. Proceed.

How many great men have I met in my life? Would they fit inside our house, or even our living room? I would include our two dads in there, not because of who they are necessarily, but more what they achieved. Despite all the success at the fishing my dad had, I’d say that possibly his greatest achievement have come latterly with the publication of three books and of course the fisherman’s memorial statue. K’s dad obviously has the commitment to Scottish independence over most of his adult life. To think what he might have achieved had he lived this long is sad, but that legacy is not forgotten by the countless people involved. Globally. Now that is an impact.

Who else gets in? Maybe that’s it. Our two dads, sitting enjoying a cup of tea and a comfy seat in our living room. Hell they’d even fit inside Thoreau’s hut no problem, three chairs after all for society is it not? What is it that we are lacking, and I include myself, that we are not producing more men like that? Maybe it’s just me and my narrow social circle. I don’t know who they are, and that’s probably the problem, but I’m ok with just those two guests anyway.

In December 2022 I came to the end of a year of directed journal writing. It had become a habit I didn’t want to lose but was unsure of where to take it next. I decided to try and focus my writing away from ‘me’ and force myself to write more about nature and the outdoors. How I was going to do this was a problem, without the content merely recalling my walk that morning or discussing the weather.

Within the last few days of 2022 I came upon the book The Daily Thoreau, a perfect collection of daily quotes from the man behind the phrase Live Deliberately. You can read more about his influence on Last Wolf here. https://lastwolf.co.uk/walden-or-life-in-the-woods/

I began my 2023 journal using these quotes as a springboard for my own thoughts. Sometimes I mention his words specifically, a lot of the time I don’t. Sometimes I don’t understand what he’s on about and others it’s just me rambling. A lot of it mentions the weather and dog walks, but remember, the vast majority was written very early in the morning so probably won’t make much sense anyway. It is presented as un-edited as possible.

Live Deliberately,

Barry

Man its pishing down with rain again. This has certainly been a wet couple of days. Or maybe it’s been weeks. What a way to end July. I remember August always being wet, soaking the festival go-ers and ensuring a million pac-a-mac sales in Edinburgh as well as pints. Several million disposable use umbrellas sticking out of bins. Plastic and shitty metal lining the gutters of the capital. Soggy, useless and forgotten.

Carrying on the universe. One job at a time. But what jobs? Do all count, walking the dog for example is a necessity, morning, afternoon, and evening, as is personal hygiene. Two showers a day usually. Or does ‘job’ mean ‘work’ and have to be hard, manual, involving tools, hammers, spades or saws? Things that toughen the hands. If so my job is useless as I barely touch tools and rely on my brain and interpersonal skills. Now there’s a laugh! Relationships and not manual ability. Oh to be a scaffolder, ha! Actually no, I don’t like heights.

Are my goals and aims too realistic? Maybe I should be aiming higher after all. Do I just want to be good at jiu-jitsu, or do I actually want a black belt? Time isn’t really on my side with that, but not impossible. One stripe down, many to go.

A downward slope towards winter. And there is some movie on the telly about mountains and winter which, although it’s about survival, does look very appealing. Am I actually craving walking in snow to the wearing of shorts? Madness.

Slightly wetter than average July but also slightly warmer as well bizarrely. Sure doesn’t feel like it at times. Cold and windy and wet. Dry and warm when the suns out which is only in bursts. Was braw at granny’s yesterday but cold in the morning. Weird weather this summer. But maybe it’s always like that and perhaps I’ve been doing too much indoors and not paying enough attention to what’s happening outside.

I’m off drinking. It just doesn’t appeal to me at the moment. Could be that it’s the summer, though the temperature outside betrays that fact, but I’ve no interest in even having a wee dram the now. Most likely cause I am a little lighter and the bjj is getting better that I’ve come to this. Tonight will be fine as it’s easy to not drink around K. I have more of a problem around my pals and also myself. The inner alkie is always there, he is just far far away.

I like the taste of booze you see, the feel of one or two is ok, but the feeling of not having any is better. It is very tempting to look at that brown liquid though. Even the branding of whiskies and wine is right up my street. The real test will be tomorrow when at home as it’s a place synonymous with alcohol for me. The town, the pubs, even my mum’s house, which is strange but true and I need to break that spell.

‘Getting away from it all’ does not mean that it is not all gone away. ‘It’, whatever it is will still be there when you get back. Therefore the key to this is surely to make the ‘it all’ bit great. And by this I mean exactly what you want, and if you’re surrounded by that then why would you ever need or want to get away from it. I know I’m enjoying not having the drama and the rush in the morning, but that’s my perception of it, my fault. We know what we have and we love it, so never feel the need to get away from it. That’s what success looks like to me.

Went into Edinburgh this morning, the east end of Princes Street is a new city I’ve never seen before. It could have been Bangkok or Atlanta or Copenhagen or Sydney. It just reeked of commerce and globalisation. Nothing about it said Scotland, or even Edinburgh. Might have as well been in London. Fucking bullshit. Calton Hill was cool though. Lots of young tourist groups, Italians and Spaniards and Japanese. Here to see the real Scotland that they’ll no get at the bottom of the hill.

It has to be nigh on impossible to not be affected by big institutions or the state these days. And the two are most likely the same anyway. I don’t even think you can disappear into Alaska or Canada anymore. It’ll still catch up. Here you’d have no chance. How to live without the impose of governments and need for corporations would be impossible and you’d probably have to go to some war torn civil war ridden state, where I would last about the length of time it took for me to take my rucksack off.

And I don’t fancy spending my life in a constant battle with someone, anyone or anything anyway. Fear of attack like those absolute cowards in our street the other night. Fear of being sued or pursued or financially ruined. Not worth it just to say you got one up. Make things work for you, but from within, unless you have the mettle to keep that ongoing forever.

A bit hazy this morning here too. Is this the start of the demise of summer, the dog days after all isn’t it? Cooler at night, though yesterday was warm. Mornings are cool as well. Met a little girl out last night with a beanie hat on and a coat, but then she’d just returned from Turkey where it’s been 54˚C so I can’t blame her. That temperature would be awful. How anyone would get anything done in that heat is beyond me.

Idyllic this lifestyle. The weather is nice, warm, a bit cloudy. Its 10:06 and we’ve already been out for a cycle, washed out the sand pit and had morning coffee in the garden. I shall now go and do a workout most likely before I have a shower. The tension of getting to work on time is a horrible pressure for any sane person, let alone dealing with getting the kids to school in the first place. And that frantic pace for these six weeks are well and truly binned. Today, for some reason it is most noticed and appreciated. Still, it’s Friday yeah…

A reminder that I have not slept outdoors yet this year. This needs to be remedied almost immediately.

I am guilty of being the fault finder. Can’t do it because of this reason. Usually no money. Don’t have the time, too busy etc. My life would be better if I had this etc. I hope I have made improvements in that area recently. I hope I am more aware of this and more inclined to say ‘yes, let’s do that’. Sometimes the universe just likes to throw us interesting challenges and curveballs to keep us on our toes, keep figuring things out and actively solving problems. Keeping our minds useful and or bodies reacting. Being alive.

Today is BB’s fourth birthday. She has been excited about this since last year and talking about it endlessly since February. She is an absolute thunderbolt who really lights up the place, my life and everyone around her. I’m very proud of her and think she can tackle and accomplish anything. She is brave and kind, and it doesn’t come much better for a father to see that in his child.

I’m sitting looking out the window at the wind in the trees. They constantly lean to the side these days, leaning east, as I tend to do. I’m listening to a mix made by my old pal JM entitled Reese Bass as it encompasses the two things I like in drum n’ bass, heavy distorted deep bass (the Reese apparently) and the Amen break. I’d forgotten how much I like this kind of music and great that he was able to narrow it down into my tastes. If only I could put it on a tape without ads! But this is banging.

The weather is mental. Torrential rain on Friday at points. 50mph winds prevent me from camping and thunderstorm warnings for yesterday. Yet in brief parts, like when we walked to the shop, it was very warm and sunny. It is all over the place at the moment and really cold and windy today. Not like July at all, or what July should be like. Or maybe it is from now on and we’re just going to have to get used to it.

The first of the dog days. Not log till Christmas.

Nature rewards us. With patience and silence she will abound, the wait of years is maybe necessary. Wait long enough, the rain will stop and the sun will come out. Wait longer still and the rains will come again. Look up to the sky and see a shooting star. Walk, or even drive around at night and you might see an owl, or a bat, or a badger. You won’t see that in your jammies watching Gogglebox will you?

“Why should the present impose upon us so much! I sit now upon a stump whose rings number centuries of growth- if I look around me I see that the very soil is composed of just such stumps-ancestors to this. I thrust this stick many aeons deep into the surface- and with my heel scratch a deeper furrow than the elements have ploughed here for a thousand years- If I listen I hear the peep of frogs which is older than the slime of Egypt- or a distant partridge drumming on a log- as it were the pulse beat of the summer air.”

HDT (Journal 1842 – 1844)

Thanks for that Henry.

Happy birthday to HDT, still influencing nearly two centuries later. I am not bothered by my age. It’s easier as a man; harder to lose weight maybe, but getting older is easier for men for sure. I feel my knee getting old. My left one has been sore for years now and I’m slow to get up. Not as slow as I’ll get though and that’s perhaps why bjj is so suitable for the older gent. It’s easier to take at your own pace, yet still a good stretch and workout for the entire body. Things come and go. My back is ok now, my elbow too, perhaps my knee has replaced this, but the hips are good and this is always a bonus and encouraging for the future.

The senses are all entwined. Our sense of smell governs taste, and probably vice versa. Smell can dictate what it is we want to eat, and sometimes is a far more pleasurable sense than taste. The smell of the outdoors is one to savour. Lavender fields, the olive tree orchard, wet pine trees after rainfall, the smell of the salty sea after a big swell. And this in turn is a reminder for our memories.

Because we are the centre of the universe. ‘I am’, is the centre. How else can we perceive it? To proclaim someone else viewpoint is better or more advantageous is mere jealousy and we need to get better at making do with what we have and where we’re at.

No dust gathers outside. With the windows open because its summer and the construction site next door, we are back to having filthy windowsills. A reminder of what it was like when we first moved in, a constant reminder also of the houses being built next to us within our own home. How does it not lie outside? Does it just evaporate? Or is it just left to the rain, of which there was plenty last night, to wash it all away at once?

If that’s the case then our interiors also need a blasting. We shower regularly, we wash and scrub our exterior, but do little for the insides. Is this what health, diet, exercise and spiritual practice truly are? An inner wash. A cleansing.

There is an advantage to being humble. I have tried over the last wee while to be more of an ‘active listener’, not just waiting for my chance to talk as most conversation is. It’s been interesting. Have I found others’ lives interesting? Not really to be honest. But maybe the whole point is to look less like an arrogant wanker that is all me, me, me. It’s hard when talking about music for example when I already have a fair but of experience with that, but ok when talking about football cause I know fuck all about it. The hardest is the best ever gig conversation with people who have only been to three!

No mist here, and no fog, but it is cold. Colder than a usual July it feels. The big hoodies are on, last night I had to put a jacket on to walk the dog. Ok, it was midnight or so, but still. It was windy, rainy and cold. Is that our summer over? Two weeks in June was it? The wind has not ceased for weeks and now I’m sitting back at the window, where I actually prefer, I can see the trees moving to my left, to the east constantly through the thick haze of red rose incense.

I do like strawberry picking. It’s not as much work as it used to be when we were kids. And for some reason we used to take a little bowl of sugar to dip in, which maybe means they weren’t as sweet back then, more like wild strawberries, or maybe it meant our mums were crazy. There is something pretty satisfying about strawberry picking, but not nearly as satisfying as picking your own fruit off bushes in your own secret spot and then turning it into some jam or a crumble. Crumble with custard is the best dessert ever. Homemade all the way!

Nature does a good job of being its own historian. It does not need humans. The sides of the river show its movements over time. The trees tell tales by being there. The ground itself gets higher or lower depending on where in the world we are. If we dig down far enough we find sharks teeth in the sand, dinosaur bones in the earth, flesh in the peat, collapsed vegetation of aeons ago. The stuff of other worlds; yet the same one.

I long to hear the heavenly winds blow over the mountaintops. Closer to home, everything looks at its fullest right now. Being away for the weekend and not doing any dog walks for four days is even enough to be surprised by it. The trees hang over and nearly touch the ground. In one or two places on the path they actually do. The bushes hide everything from the damned building site. Nice one nature, you’ve earned a massive plus mark there.

Perhaps I should look at other spots for swimming. Murieston water, the waterfalls, the Almond without the sewage, bolk!

This book has remained the only constant in my life since, well, a while. I hope to reconnect with that over the summer. The physical has nearly held up, being away is obviously difficult for that, though I can help it with diet. Which is also difficult. It’s windy as hell here and the caravan is rocking though not in a good way. Weather is bright and sunny though. Strange.

I’ve come to be a morning person. I like it. I like being up before everyone else. I do my best work in the morning which is why I wish I was able to do more of it. I wonder what training bjj would be like in the morning. Would I rise to it? I’ve never done it. I’ve done early morning workouts which feels good but is tiring later on. Maybe its worth trying morning jiu-jitsu.

In December 2022 I came to the end of a year of directed journal writing. It had become a habit I didn’t want to lose but was unsure of where to take it next. I decided to try and focus my writing away from ‘me’ and force myself to write more about nature and the outdoors. How I was going to do this was a problem, without the content merely recalling my walk that morning or discussing the weather.

Within the last few days of 2022 I came upon the book The Daily Thoreau, a perfect collection of daily quotes from the man behind the phrase Live Deliberately. You can read more about his influence on Last Wolf here. https://lastwolf.co.uk/walden-or-life-in-the-woods/

I began my 2023 journal using these quotes as a springboard for my own thoughts. Sometimes I mention his words specifically, a lot of the time I don’t. Sometimes I don’t understand what he’s on about and others it’s just me rambling. A lot of it mentions the weather and dog walks, but remember, the vast majority was written very early in the morning so probably won’t make much sense anyway. It is presented as un-edited as possible.

Live Deliberately,

Barry

But all things must be ascribed human characteristics in order to make them seem humane. The windfarm in the far off distance is a human reference point. We give mountain tops names, as if the mountain cares if it’s a Munro or a Wainwright. We speak to animals in whatever language we use. My dog understands English. How he would get on in Japanese I don’t’ know. Burns was a master at giving animal’s human character. What is that word, anthropomorphism, or something like that? We do the same to all facets of nature, so we can understand it better. For better or for worse, for what is our place within the natural world really. Lord and master. Subservient to the storms we’ve named. Co-habiter?