This is my last blog of the year – then, as usual, there will be a two week pause until January 8th; but 2020 still had a dramatic surprise for me on Friday afternoon, in the woods opposite my house. I was wandering, off the beaten track, looking for a holly bush, when I lost my balance and fell backwards on to a log; the level of pain told me immediately that I’d damaged something – probably a rib. This is one of the most painful injuries I can remember – doc confirms it involves several ribs; there’s no treatment except pain management and we’re trying to find an opioid that lets me sleep without blowing my mind.
I often reflect on the number of different internal voices which comment on my passing life; neuroscience confirms that our ‘conscious rational self’ is only a minor player. Last Friday afternoon, an 80-year-old was alone, flat out on the forest floor, with intense back pain; I was listening to the voices. Among sensible discussions about summoning help etc – a voice definitely asked me to confirm my commitment to getting this show (me) back on the road again. I was able to confirm.
This Monday, 21st December, will be the Winter Solstice – the shortest day – and now the light will build slowly towards a new spring. This is the time of the year our unconscious asks us if we have the heart to start all over again. For those who can’t feel hope, it’s a dangerous time – so let’s all try to be specially kind to our friends – for auld lang syne.
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It’s different for every one of us – our expectation of the festive season; I’m keeping mine low – will be doing Xmas and New Year mostly alone – no great sacrifice. Because the vaccine is close, many act as if it’s done – but getting a double dose, into even the priority groups, won’t be quick. We can’t know what the next three months will bring to our NHS – only that many will die. Our First Minister and public health professionals are top quality – but I’ve always felt that the resilience of a people depends on the spontaneous generosity of ordinary citizens in their communities: our greatest, unrecognised national asset.
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I think I read every book John Le Carre wrote – even the later ‘moralist’ tales; but I read the George Smiley novels over and over – still do. Like Chandler’s Philip Marlowe, the character of George Smiley took on a special significance in my life – as a model of how we humans should behave – the silent vocation of public service. See Guardian Obituary.
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Fintan O’Toole is a gifted journalist, who sets out complicated issues simply. If a country could leave the EU while still enjoying the benefits of membership, there would be no EU. Very soon, the British PM must either concede to the EU or foist pain on the most vulnerable citizens in the UK. It’s a tragedy.
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I keep pondering whether the language of ‘wellbeing’ will acquire the ‘potency’ to lead campaigning for our new economics. The Wellbeing Economy Alliance is recruiting professional staff to upgrade from volunteer led. This is a heartening piece from the PM of Iceland who have developed 39 wellbeing indicators – economic, social, environmental.
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I’m very proud of the historic success of Scotland’s Violence Reduction Unit – and the whole philosophy which underpinned it; which is why this week’s stats on death from drug addiction are so demoralising to read – the worst in Europe. We need to confront that high numbers of Scots live close to destitution, despair and death. See BBC article.
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John Le Carre created George Smiley in 1961 – as an intentional foil to the James Bond lampoon espionage. His creation is short, fat, badly dressed; polite, self-effacing and usually underestimated. Was he born rich or poor, peasant or priest; where had his beautiful society wife found him? Without school, parents, regiment or trade – Smiley travelled without labels in the guard’s van of the social express – and soon became lost luggage. He also became one of the most powerful spies in Britain. If you’ve still to meet him, I envy you.
