Who let the Pigeons out?

It's been awhile  since I have posted on my blog. One might wonder if one is suffering from writer's block,  if one presumes to be a writer and is presumptuous enough to assume that one has readers. One is going to stop now and speak (or write) in the first person. I actually don't think I am afflicted with writer's block because I think  that when I called this blog 'To rave or to rant' I exaggerated how much I may have to rave or rant about. Sometime back this would not have been a problem but since I have been practising 'Mindfulness' (with limited success as I established in my previous post) I monitor my conversations with myself. Yes, I do have conversations with myself - we all do. Most of these conversations are judgements or constant opinions about everything that takes place in the present, sometimes making links with the past and occasionally, projecting into the future, which ironically keeps me (and most of us) from participating actively in the present moment. 

For example, if I am  driving along and a pigeon decides that the middle of the road is quite a good place to be and despite my approaching vehicle and the sound of the motor, the bird continues to occupy the middle of the road, I might even have to honk my horn at the last minute before it takes the hint and moves out of the way. The reality is that disaster has been averted (albeit mostly for the pigeon) and I should enjoy the rest of my drive and more importantly concentrate on my driving. But do I do that? Do any of us? Absolutely not. There is conversation to be had in our heads. "That stupid bird! Now I know where the term 'bird brain' originated, just as well I noticed it, if I hadn't I would have run it over and then I would have felt awful, even though it wouldn't have been my fault"......... and on and on it goes.Our mental conversation never stops. Ironically, the poor bird has taken flight and moved onto other things. No thoughts like 'stupid humans with those big, moving, noisy machines We were here long before there even was a road here. How dare she honk at me like a prancing goose, no respect at all. Why couldn't she have waited until I was done?' No, while the bird hasn't given the whole incident a second thought, I have given it a second, third, fourth and possibly a fifth thought. Who is the real bird brain here one wonders. 

So that is my problem; My life is quite ordinary like most peoples' lives. Mindfulness has taught me to rave and rant in the present moment, if indeed a situation calls for one or the other, and then to move on. But most of the time, everything that happens falls somewhere in between. I have now decided to take a leaf out of the book of those people who have decided to fuse words together and come up with words like Brangelina,  Brexit and Bremain. Yes, I have decided that since most situations in my life are somewhere between raving and ranting, when I am undecided, I shall now 'Ravant'! Yes all you Brexiteers and Bremainers, three can play that game. From now on, I shall ravant about my life observations and situations unless they are worth raving or ranting about, in which case I shall happily let rip and rave and rant to my heart's content. 

Having made up a blended word, ravant, you would expect me to end this post on a ravant. But I could not possibly be predictable, so I'll end on a rant. The other day, I was driving down a road where there were parked cars to my right. I of course had right of way (unless you live in that part of the world where you drive on the right hand side of the road, in which case don't tax your brain to understand, just trust me on this) although you would be hard pushed to come to that conclusion if you saw the behaviour of the motorists coming in the opposite direction. Although I was mildly irritated by this, in retrospect, I appreciate the fact that most of them had the decency to slow down and stay quite close to the parked cars on their side, as they passed me. That was before a white van came hurtling towards me. The driver had obviously crowned himself king of the road and obtained his licence from the Driving School for Imbeciles. As there was no sign of him slowing down or moving closer to the cars on his side, I was forced to swerve at the last minute and hit the pavement with a thud. My handbag and its contents went flying and my chest and it's three dimensional bits hit the steering wheel. Fortunately the driver in the car behind the van was considerate enough to stop (speedy Gonsalves carried on) while I collected myself before driving on to pick my daughter up from the train station, with trembling legs, concern for Boo (my car) and a fuming mind - where is Mindfulness when you need it. Later that evening, I recounted what happened to my husband and he asked me if the driver had stopped. With a rush of justified sarcasm I answered,  "Yes,"  And added  "He also apologised profusely and promised never to do it again." On reflection, the driver was probably using speed and bullish behaviour to compensate for the lack of something in his life, I could take a few guesses but your guess is as good as mine.

Mindful of being Mindful

I genuinely thought that my next blog was going to be a continuation of my previous post 'Fifty Shades of White', which I ended on the promise, or threat depending on your opinion, of 'to be continued.....' Well, I actually did go and see a Specialist and she did confirm that I had Vitiligo and I did get emotional but right now I am not in the mood. I felt so low last weekend, I developed a new found empathy for snails and slugs and any other of God's creatures that rise less than an inch above the ground. The Consultant was kind, supportive and empathetic; I couldn't ask for more, unless you're talking about a cure. The truth unfortunately is that although she offered me lots of advice and alternatives, finding a solution to Vitiligo is like shooting in the dark. You may or may not hit your target - its all down to luck or something that rhymes with it.

Anyway, I decided that I cannot afford the luxury of wallowing. Besides I have very little patience for people who wallow and I'll be damned if I am going to let this disease turn me into a 'wallower.'  Another thing I can't abide by is using the word 'fight' when referring to a disease. The disease is in my body and if I fight the disease, I fight my body, which means I am fighting myself. Now, now, don't go calling me names like 'hippie' and 'moong eater,' even if the latter is true -  I am rather fond of moong. And if you don't know what moong means, just Google it for goodness sake. In my time (yes I am of a certain age) we had to look it up in the Oxford dictionary (or indeed any other dictionary). 

Well, I don't 'fight' diseases and I eat moong, so I hardly expect anyone to raise their eyebrows in surprise when I say that I am a believer in Mindfulness. If you have read any of my previous posts,you will get the impression that I am not a bandwagon jumper. In fact very selfishly, when I discover something that works for me, I secretly hope that it doesn't attract too many bandwagon jumpers. I am going to go slightly off topic now because I have had a terribly exciting light bulb moment. I am imagining a lovely jumper with the picture of a wagon and 'Mindfulness' written above it!! I am also imagining getting rich with this idea and now I am back to earth with a thud!

When I was 15 years old, I discovered yoga. I did my yoga exercises almost everyday and became impressively flexible. If I had any illusion that it also made me svelte, that was quickly put to rest when I met a family friend. "I heard you do yoga?" she enquired. "Yes", I said with reasonable pride. "Oh," she said looking me over, "you really don't look like you do." That's when I discovered meditation. I practised yoga for nearly 15 years and meditation on and off till today. I had a bit of a break from meditation when I had children. If anyone dares to ask me why, I would dare to say that you either don't have children, or you have children and a nanny, or you have children and a live in mother-in-law, in which case meditation would be your lifeline!

About ten years ago, at a particularly stressful time in my life, I noticed that whatever was upsetting me kept going on in my brain as if it was on a loop. (I was practising awareness without realising it.) Anyway, I decided to stop all thought for a couple of minutes just to give my brain a rest. I did this from time to time and then realised that it was like very intensive meditation. So I started meditating again and didn't think too much about the stilling of my mind until I watched an Oprah Winfrey show. She was interviewing Eckhart Tolle who was talking about stillness and being in the present moment, also known as awareness and mindfulness. I was excited (and disappointed that I hadn't discovered mindfulness!). I bought Eckhart Tolle's book 'A New Earth', loved it and completely converted to the thought of being present and living life in constant awareness. Some years of practising mindfulness before the bandwagoners arrived. 'Mindfulness' became a buzz word. Courses started being run and certificates started being dished out. I thought and still think it's great. What I don't think is all that great is when you take an original idea and don't have the guts to stick with it. I remember reading somewhere where a course was being run, that the course involved no spirituality at all. I understand that it was meant as a reassurance but to me, whether it is meditation or mindfulness, getting in touch with your spiritual side is hugely important. Discovering that spark of God inside you (yes I know 'hippie', 'moong eater', 'sandal wearer' keep them coming!) is extremely important to attaining peace and awareness.

Now I would like to say that after ten years, I have peace pouring out of every pore in my body. I would like to say it but I can't because I don't. Far from it. I have actually developed what I call 'a venting moment', where I vent (to put it politely) either to myself or to someone unfortunate enough who I trust and is in the vicinity and then I bring myself to the present moment. No brain chatter - I ban it (and if you belief that, you'll believe anything!) Ideally, I would like that to happen every time but I haven't reached there yet. If it is something that really upsets me, like my Vitiligo, I resort to what has always worked for me - writing about it and using humour.

To kick off the humour thing, I would say that I laugh in the face of Vitiligo - even if it is not the face I have been used to all my life! The other day I chuckled to myself while applying my 'tanning' lotion (which in itself is a joke considering I am brown skinned). The reason for my mirth? I reminded myself of the middle aged female equivalent to balding men who indulge in 'comb overs!' They don't kid anyone and I suspect neither do I. I am big on empathy these days although I will definitely draw the line when it comes to a certain man who is not kidding anyone with his ridiculous wig, whose name rhymes with Chump and who has aspirations to run the most powerful country in the world!

The other day, a friend asked if the doctor had given me anything to help with the Vitiligo. I said that I was given some potent steroid creams that may or may not work. If they work, fabulous! If not the creams might result in stubble which will hide the white patches! To be honest, I am exaggerating. Most people assure me that they don't even notice my patches, mind you, maybe they are just being polite, I do live in Britain after all.  I can only imagine the comments if I still lived in Goa. "My God, what happened to your face?!" "So sorry no?!" (I am Goan - I'm allowed to make fun. Besides,remember the family friend's comment regarding my yoga practice?).

I guess I am preparing myself for if/when it gets worse. In the meantime, I will carry on writing and using humour. 

Bye, until next time when I have something to rant or rave about. Don't bother wondering whether I was ranting or raving here.  I am the author and even I'm not sure!