Two weeks on the Dalmatian coast did wonders for this old wordsmith’s suntan, but a long overdue holiday unexpectedly left me with a yawning gap in my life. This spiritual hole is not so much existential crisis, simply a severe case of ennui. That feels a bit wrong. Holidays are supposed to invigorate and energise, aren’t they? I’m
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Category Archives: Me, myself, I
Hold your noses, folks, there’s a foul stench in the air. It reeks to high heaven, is turning my stomach and making me mad. And that’s because my pungency allegory extends way beyond pong. I’ve been clamping my nostrils tightly for a couple of years now, particularly when travelling by bus (public transport and two wheels being the favoured
Happiness, huh? Totally overrated if you ask me. Truth told, I’m a crabbit old cow. My natural state of grump has been embedded even more deeply lately by the omnipresence of the happiness industry. Even a cursory glance through certain social media platforms or a skim of the self-help section in your local bookshop confirms our apparently limitless search
Even now in the darkened depths of a Glasgow January, when the annual Scottish SAD syndrome is dragging us all down in its icy, gloomy grip, faint glimmers of a feel-good golden glow have suffused the spirit of this wee sole trader. The annual gloom-fest that is Blue Monday was brightened this week by a stunning blood moon,
Funny how it all comes around. Even if you wanted to dodge it, the past has a habit of creeping up on you and doing its time machine thing, taking you way back when. Some flashbacks have a golden tinge – sibling singalongs to the hit parade on Sunday bath night; the long, hot coming-of-age
Half a century, give or take. Fifty years of zigging and zagging through life trying to find the switch which flicks the bravery button on, permanently. Shame it’s taken me so very long to feel solid and sorted, but from where I’m sitting on a tiny wee lump of rock clinging to the outer fringes
Funny old things, humans. So simple and yet so utterly perplexing. Head-scratching and marvelling at human behaviour is one of my favourite pastimes, but I remain baffled at how some folks simply cannot evolve and adapt. And just when you think there are signs of real social progress, people go and do something a bit daft. It’s
Don’t look back in anger. Or so goes the Oasis song. And they’ve got a point. For the sake of our our mental health it’s probably not a good idea to dwell on the past. Maybe more of us should open those cupboards and let the skeletons loose. Maybe we ought to find ways to forgive those
Never mind some lighthearted digital chitchat, folks, this time it’s serious. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about God. But if you reckon you’re about to get some profound spiritual enlightenment, you’re probably barking up the wrong blog. The extent of my involvement with the holy father begins and ends with singing along at the top of my
