A catch up of sorts... to 'write' the wrongs of recent Easters, in the nick of time... Read on, listen here or for a slightly odder experiment that sort of just popped out watch and listen here.
I love writing, I talk a lot about loving it and wanting to do it but I sure don’t do enough of it to match my pretensions. For example I’ve had an idea for a novel since I was 19 and have written 90% of it yet I fail to keep my bum in the seat to finish it. Meh. To partially make up for this, over the past 17 years I’ve written a number of quirky items about various adventures under the name Doctor Lobster. I email these directly to people like you that I have met, liked or connected with in person. I get a lot of joy from this. Even more so when I receive responses - to which you would receive an individual reply (hint). I used to write up to 5 items a year. Of these, two are mission critical - a Chinese New Year ‘prediction’ and a Hot Cross Bun missive. And yet…for not one, but two years I have not written that Easter edition.
WHAT. A. LOSER. Certainly in my own eyes… for is failure or success not only that we judge ourselves thus?
You’d think I’d have many other things I could feel more of a failure around. I’ve been in love 5 times and 5 times those relationships have ended (still love you though). I came from a split home and now my daughter has a split family. I wanted to act, direct and run for office at some time in my life – haven’t of course. I also wanted to be an astronaut. Those all pale into insignificance compared to the prickly abject feeling I suffer having not found the will to write those two simple articles. My excuse has been that it’s hard to be creative while struggling for survival and yet they also say you have to suffer for your art. Apparently I am much more creatively productive when delighted and happy.
Anyway going into space is not the big deal it once was and hey, it’s still quite possible. My first choice as a 2 year old was to be ‘an archaeology’ anyway… didn’t do that either (though I have dug up a triceratops femur). Acting, directing and running for office were part of a plan to be better at each successive one yet were really driven from a desire for the experience of these things. And I’ve not lacked for other interesting experiences in life.
As for the relationships … I regard each and every one of them a success despite their ending. While those endings were not always pretty they were all necessary and in all cases both parties are flourishing quite nicely out of each other’s shade. I have the joy of deep friendships with the first four and share the most amazing aspect of existence with the last - our wonderful daughter Lorelei … and because of her, the mother and I must achieve the alchemical equivalent of transmuting base emotional angst into golden emotive content for the good not only of our daughter but of all who move within our spheres, which has been of the grumbliest variety for the last four years. Very challenging - I’ve failed the test many times. Now, my personal Philosopher’s Stone is the Healthy Limit. Through the magic of maintaining and honouring such boundaries, transformation may occur and the light at the end of the tunnel can open into a lush, wide and verdant valley. Wide and tranquil enough for peaceful co-parenting! No doubt there will be thorns and undergrowth on the path down the mountain. Clearing that path so as to better enjoy life's picnic in the green and pleasant land that is our daughter’s hoped for future will be worth it.
Now to the buns… you see dear readers, I did indulge both times with every intention to write (there's that pathway to hell...). The events may seem prosaic compared to previous editions but so it goes and perhaps that is something that happens for parents with buns recently out of the oven…
2018 - A first for The Noodle. In Johannesburg with my mother who I thought had instilled this Hot-Cross-Buns-on-Good-Friday tradition in me. Turns out it’s only a Good Friday-specific thing for me and not even her, our family or the Catholic Church (from which I have long since fled). Which goes to show the level of meaning we can ascribe to life by blissfully instituting our own ceremonies through ignorance… along with a healthy dose of really not caring to dispel an innocent falsehood! Invariably I prefer my own imagination and path than that of others - thanks very much. There is no reason to think the world religions offer access to anything in the afterlife. Certainly no more than a belief in Odin, Athena, Zeus, Cybele or The Flying Spaghetti Monster does. I do think spiritual belief can offer us heaven on earth in the form of a peace of mind and faith that there is meaning to this life and existence. That doesn’t work for everyone but for those it does, it is a helluva gift. Of course I acknowledge the rampantly stupid stuff delivered upon us as individuals and a society by the foolery of dogma and faith-based ignorance. On measure I sense the things done on the parish level make religion a marginally more useful thing than not for humanity. ON THE PARISH LEVEL I stress. For what is that but just community and don't we really like being part of one of those!?
2019 – An Easter with my sister who by remarkable coincidence made a life and family in Sweden many years before me. A surprisingly sunny spring day it was a rewarding experience for the joy of being able to relax and chill into the familiarity that presence of family can bring in unfamiliar surroundings. At the time it was a haven in a storm as my nuclear family dream detonated Chernobyl-style. The white wine flowed while the crawly, stumbly, Lorenoodle, just returning to being joyful post chickenpox scoffed her 2nd hot cross bun in the presence of welcoming and wonderful cousins.First Easter Egg hunt and first trampoline... ain't that a thing.
I’m happy to know that despite last years darker than normal cast, for it was indeed the crucible of agony separation can be, I remember that time for the wonderful months I spent with my daughter in Stockholm as Daddy day-care before she began nursery.
For those who do not know, I split my time between London and Stockholm and remain committed to living a life worth writing about. Even in its normality for normal is a wonderful thing - one rung above ordinary, inspiringly apart from crazy.
And yes you’re getting another one of these in the not very distant future because its almost Hot Crusty Bun-a-rama day again and I’ve just barely redeemed some small part of myself in my own eyes… and isn’t it easier to love others when you appreciate yourself?
Next up to finishing that story about that pesky Spider McGee - The Legend Lives On.
Much Love
Doctor Lobster
For those who do not know, I split my time between London and Stockholm and remain committed to living a life worth writing about. Even in its normality for normal is a wonderful thing - one rung above ordinary, inspiringly apart from crazy.
And yes you’re getting another one of these in the not very distant future because its almost Hot Crusty Bun-a-rama day again and I’ve just barely redeemed some small part of myself in my own eyes… and isn’t it easier to love others when you appreciate yourself?
Next up to finishing that story about that pesky Spider McGee - The Legend Lives On.
Much Love
Doctor Lobster
