Thought Picnic: How we weep more than the bereaved

Managing the inputs

I have experienced bad dreams, some quite vivid, usually caused by medication I am on, but I also have a very active imagination. I can easily conjure up anything, which is why I control the kinds of input that enter my thoughts, especially what I see or watch.

For that reason, I do not watch horror films; childhood memories of terrifying events keep me guarded about the conversations that reach my ears.

When I was twelve and in secondary boarding school, one night I dreamt that something terrible had happened, and I believed that dream. I was inconsolably distressed most of the day until I received news that everything was fine and that the situation had been a creation of my mind and imagination.

Controlling your thoughts

The mother of a friend used to enquire about him, but her thoughts were filled with worries about something bad happening to him. Although he might be prone to mishaps, I gently advised her to change her thinking and to remove her anxiety by thinking good thoughts when they had not spoken for a while. I told her to surround him with positivity rather than dread.

A certain principle applies: if you have nothing good to say about something, then say nothing. Similarly, I suggest that if you have no good thoughts about something or someone, abandon the negative thoughts and seek better ones for your own peace and well-being. Your thoughts do not necessarily control the person you are thinking about.

How we manage the influence of premonitions, foreboding, and anxiety depends on how we train our minds. If I wake up thinking something bad has happened, I do not immediately accept that as my reality without evidence. I am more likely to comfort myself with the thought that all is well, or to pray for peace and calm amidst the uncertainty—this is better than being driven by every gust of fear and doubt.

A ship caught in a storm will likely founder if the captain and crew do not keep calm, and lives could be lost in the process. We are the captains of our minds, managing the storms of thoughts that pass through them. Yet, we sometimes give these thoughts life by voicing them or acting upon them.

Living with better thoughts

I understand that after a cancer diagnosis, some people might be worried and concerned about me. I cannot fully imagine how they felt, but I was at the centre of that situation. I had the cancer; they only had their imagination. Perhaps if their thoughts had been encouraging about better outcomes, I would have appreciated their positivity to help my situation.

You cannot live solely by the thoughts of others, especially in adversity; you need sources of upliftment that dispel the worst fears. I did not dwell on how cancer might kill; instead, I listened to messages about healing, health, living, thriving, and being strong. Out of over thirty hospital visits, only twice did I have a chaperone—because I needed to keep my thoughts positive.

If I, as the person most affected, can maintain hope, and there are many in worse situations who are not thinking the worst about their circumstances, why then are others we consider close to us full of fear, anxiety, and worry on our behalf? It makes no sense at all. There might be an inadequacy in their development of positivity and faith.

Listening carefully

The other day, after telling someone I had had cancer twice, instead of listening to what I said, he began to talk about herbal remedies and the supposed causes of cancer. A musician by profession is quite a leap from an oncologist. I was so irritated by his ignorance disguising itself as knowledge.

I know the effects of chemotherapy and radiotherapy; they can be deadly, and side effects are horrible, but we do not abandon cancer treatment. In most cases, we manage the side effects and ultimately recover.

After all this rambling, perhaps the best thing to say is: please, do not weep more than the bereaved, worry more than the affected, or be burdened more than the truly infirm. Carrying an imaginary burden heavier than the real one is a feat beyond belief.

When we manage our thoughts properly, what might be pity or sympathy often turns into empathy. We walk that long, hard mile in another's shoes, understanding them instead of making it about ourselves, our thoughts and emotions shifting focus away from them.

It is well.

Adopting a healthy work regime after illness

Managing oneself back to work

My return to work after extended sick leave, was not structured or phased, because I did not plunge straight back into the work activities before my leave. Considering I worked through my radiotherapy treatment and for a month afterwards, despite the fatigue and sometimes-overwhelming side effects, I put in the hours, the time, and the effort to meet my obligations.

However, there was a point when I needed more support beyond living alone at home, along with a proper rest period to really recover. This led me to undertake the long journey to Cape Town for the care Brian could provide that was beneficial for my recovery.

I eventually spoke with an occupational health professional, who suggested we adjust the work schedule on the parameters of volume, pace, and complexity. I was comfortable with handling complexity; I was ready for that challenge. However, managing volume and pace was something I had to learn through engagement.

Handling pressure before feeling overwhelmed

Implicit in this approach was a sense of pressure; the way urgencies, priorities, and dependencies demanded more from me to meet deadlines, often without the usual flexibility that would involve discussing the reasonableness with relevant stakeholders.

There was one occasion when an architect, discovering that a crucial piece of work—on which the entire deployment depended—had fallen through the cracks, suddenly created a lot of pressure on me, with the message that everything would pause if I didn't find a solution.

At that moment, I felt like a giant had stepped on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Recognising this reaction, I pushed back at once, saying that we would proceed methodically, and I would not shoulder the pressure caused by this oversight.

At that time, I informed my line manager, not seeking support, but making him aware that the whole issue could escalate because of my resistance to quick fixes.

This architect then committed a clear faux pas by suggesting he entertain my concerns because he didn't want me to cut corners. That was a stance I was never going to let slip. I don’t cut corners; I am a 37-year IT professional. No one at the conference dared intervene; the message was crystal clear.

Maintaining control on your own terms

With the space and time, I was able to find the right elements needed to resolve the problem, and we implemented a solution within 90 minutes. Exercising autonomy without letting pace be dictated by either my own failings or others’ is essential.

Despite modulating elements of my return to work, I find myself in the office for 9 to 12 hours, sometimes more. I tend to get absorbed in a situation, aiming to resolve, manage, or finish the task before I leave for home.

This occurs alongside lingering side effects such as urinary incontinence, bowel urgency, and nightly insomnia. The insomnia, I manage by sleeping as much as I can on weekends. Things are not perfect, but I am finding better ways to cope than before.

In terms of occupational health, I simply wanted awareness about side effects, fatigue, and hospital appointments. Beyond that, I believe I am meeting and surpassing my aims and goals, but I also need to be smart about it.

I've got everything left to achieve

Building for Life

Baron Foster of Thames Bank turned 90 on June 1st. He has left his mark on the architectural landscape of the world, collaborating with fellow architects and many designers. One cannot help but be in awe of how imagination on paper becomes the realisation you can behold.

In one of his iconic buildings, where I used to have lunch in the 1990s, the Willis Building in Ipswich, with black curtain walls contrasting with a yellow and green interior, went on to become the youngest Grade I listed building in the UK.

I remember visiting Berlin and observing how a Foster and Rogers project in that city seemed like you hire Norman Foster to transform a monument into a modern masterpiece, as he did with the Reichstag building, and Richard Rogers to create a monument by building a modern masterpiece, as he did with the Daimler complex.

Everything left to achieve

Architecture has always interested me, but that is not the primary focus of this blog. Interviewed for the Architects’ Journal in May, this last exchange—question and answer—offered an insightful perspective on the man himself.

Gino Spocchia: You’re about to turn 90, an achievement in its own right. As an architect, do you feel there is anything left for you to achieve?

Norman Foster: I've got everything left to achieve. That’s an impossible question. [Architects’ Journal: Norman Foster at 90: ‘I have everything left to achieve’]

My journey to this interview was influenced by listening to Richard Rogers on Desert Island Discs yesterday; he was interviewed in March 1990, and he spoke about his early partnership with Norman Foster, then winning the Pompidou Centre competition with Renzo Piano, and Su Rogers. [BBC Sounds: Desert Island Discs – Richard Rogers]

Propinquity to serendipity

In the 20 years I have visited Paris and sat for brunch on the first floor of Café Beaubourg that overlooks the space in front of the Pompidou Centre, I have only observed people and never entered the centre itself. Richard Rogers passed away at 88 in 2021.

I suppose one first considers the blessing and fortune of good health at such an age, to continue to have zest for life and a purposefulness that suggests you believe you still have much to do and give.

Thinking of continuing potential

For Norman Foster, advanced age is not an end; he embraces a philosophy of ongoing potential, rejecting the cultural narrative that achievement belongs primarily to youth. Meaningful accomplishment remains possible at any stage of life. Retirement is not a part of this man’s vocabulary.

For someone turning 90, this perspective embodies:

• A refusal to be defined solely by past accomplishments
• An understanding that wisdom and experience create unique opportunities
• A rejection of artificial timelines for meaningful contribution
• An embracing of new goals suited to current capabilities
• Finding purpose in mentorship, creative expression, or personal growth

I am deeply inspired by this mindset, as I contemplate returning to university to learn from and engage with youthful insights and young minds. I am convinced of the importance of lifelong learning and continuous engagement with a world of possibilities.

Norman Foster exemplifies this life-affirming stance beautifully; if we have consciousness, will, health, and resources, we retain the capacity for meaningful achievement. It is clear he enjoys what he does and will continue for as long as he can. Belated happy birthday, Norman Foster, Baron Foster of Thames Bank.

References

20^th Century Architecture: Norman Foster

20^th Century Architecture: Richard Rogers

The blessing of loving what you do

Why do you like your job?

Having heard from many others, I can only count myself blessed to enjoy what I do and my job. The responsibilities involved can be challenging and sometimes frustrating. Managerial levels, especially those in project management who impose demands for deliverables that lack any semblance of being feasible considering resources, time, and cost, are particularly difficult.

Clearly, one must be assertive enough in their area of expertise to offer a genuine perspective on what is achievable within the constraints provided. I recognised this blessing more profoundly when people asked me if I liked my job. It revealed more about how they felt about their own positions than about any genuine curiosity regarding my situation.

The fear of change

I hate to admit that it felt more like searching for kindred spirits in the shared misery of work life, which is quite sad. Fortunately, I found the courage to walk away from a job that had lost its enjoyment, excitement, and sense of progress. 

This situation often arises from how one is managed; if line managers view you as a human being, giving respect, courtesy, dignity, and trust, while also recognising your contributions, it can significantly affect your experience. 

Too often, we are constrained by the fear of leaving the comfort of the familiar for the uncertainties of the unknown. However, it has been in those moments that I have left the comfort of a stable job with a regular salary and no clear prospects for advancement or promotion, that I have stepped into more exciting and rewarding roles and opportunities.

Take that vital step

You must step out and away to step into something better. A brief discomfort might herald better things to come. Naturally, one must have faith in oneself and in the experiences acquired, which may be underappreciated where you currently are, but seen as invaluable elsewhere.

What you do not want is for the transient notion of job security to rob you of career autonomy and erode your ambition, leading to a loss of confidence in your marketability.

Many of us should explore better ways to market our skills in varied environments. A curriculum vitae needs enhancement to catch the eyes of recruiters beyond a mundane presentation.

Trust your capable self

When it ceases to be enjoyable, do not waste time hoping it will improve if the personnel, purpose, or project has not changed. Reinventing oneself can be an appealing and distinguishing factor in the job market; moreover, no knowledge or experience is ever truly wasted. This may necessitate a period of inactivity or a change of surroundings.

This is why I believe that, regardless of what you undertake, its value or impact may not be immediately apparent, but your own progress is something others elsewhere might appreciate.

Reassess your options; you have likely exhausted the potential for growth within your current engagement and need new fertile ground of people, projects, and purposes to write another wonderful chapter in your career and life.

Finally, you are the principal participant in the story of your life, do not let another make you a victim of your circumstances, think of number one and take care of number one first, learning to love yourself, it is the greatest love of all.

Shaped by a world of champions

We need champions

What I cannot deny is the need for champions in your life, people who see the potential and the best in you, long before you realise you could be anything. Even more so are the people who believe in you, who encourage you, give you the support to begin to believe in yourself, and offer the scarce opportunities of access and privilege to attain what might have at one time been totally impossible.

In my life, I have had many champions, out of all sorts of persuasions, the people who pulled you up when you were down and those who firm the foundations of the platforms on which you stand, you should also not forget those who do not want you to stand still resting on your laurels, they want to see you progress and they try to remove the obstacles that seem to pre-empt you.

Create your vision

The need for a vision for yourself that you can begin to think and to dream and to work towards realising is one of the biggest challenges an individual faces. How do you begin a journey to a destination you cannot even visualise yourself getting to? While an accident of good fortune might happen, we cannot live by accidents and make that a purpose for life.

Today, I remember one of the greatest champions of my life, Cash Soyinka, an uncle and relation on both side of my family who almost 40 years ago became my guardian and mentor. He led by example rather than by instruction. He took me into confidences while nurturing my voice of expression and sense of adventure in ways I could never have imagined, yet in such impactful ways.

Most of all, he allowed me the courage of my convictions, obviously, I had to convince him of why I was making a decision, even as he shepherded me with insight to be more rational than emotional. He passed on three years ago and he is sorely missed.

Take on the mantel

When another friend and mentor, John Coll, passed on at the end of 2013, I did wonder who would champion me in the issues of life. However, someone else suggested that the torch had been passed on to me to champion, mentor, and encourage others, in the same way that I have benefited from the counsel of those who came before.

Much as I strive to live up to this standard, I know I am hardly close to the standard of those who have stood up, stood for, and stood in for me. I will not relent, I hope to get better. My best friend of over 40 years is another who a few have indicated, I could never be impugned, like I could never do any wrong. I have many wrongs, but I am given allowances and forgiven easily for my failings, and I am grateful that none of my failings are used against me.

The partner champion

However, daily, it is Brian that champions me at every moment, the way I am loved so deeply and unconditionally, the way he believes in me, encourages me, and strengthens me even when I seem to lack the resolve. He sees possibilities with facility, even in the midst of limited resources and straitened circumstances, he is a believer.

I do not acknowledge this enough nor is as appreciated to the extent that it has been valuable. I do not exist in isolation; I am a product of the numerous investments of champions that have willed me on beyond where my sights and abilities could carry me. I am grateful for having had the tutelage of champions and the enduring support of those who uphold me daily.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - LXXVII

Leaps of fleshly walks

It had rained earlier besides the fact that there was a forecast of further rain episodes in Manchester. I was dressed in anticipation of adverse weather, but when I stepped out this afternoon to replenish my supply of cranberry juice that eases urinary tract issues, there was much to see.

There are people still adorning facemasks, they seem to be visitors from the Far East, in my case, I know that the Coronavirus is still about, five years on, because I only recently got my biannual booster, bringing my COVID-19 jabs to ten, in all.

However, as summer is now upon us, you cannot help but notice two things, the lips and the legs. The former is seen in both males and females, lips filled like balloons with fillers or Botox, all so unnaturally like big-lipped fish, very much the giant grouper or the Napoleon wrasse look. [A-Z Animals: Fish with Big Lips]

Flesh is not quite fresh

This is one case where beauty is hardly in the eye of the beholder other than whoever wants this unsightly cosmetic procedure that distorts from the natural and presents the utterly bizarre. For this and the latter issue, much as you want to look away, you are forced to see the indescribable that speaks louder than farce.

The rising mercury allows for the revealing of more skin, from shorts that should only be worn for a burlesque performance in a dingy poorly lit nightclub, well away from our common streets, to body parts that are best kept under wraps.

Whatever makes these fashion trends attractive fails to persuade me of either the self-awareness or the sensibleness of the purveyors. Yet, one must live and let live. Each time I walk through Manchester, one must curb the need to comment after seeing the outrageous to the dastardly.

It is still a bustling city of contrasts, changed and changing by circumstances, residents, and visitors alike. We cannot forget that the pandemic also wreaked havoc on our idyllic existence.

Time after time

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Like a foreigner to them

It is a source of amusement when I consider those who dismiss my viewpoints as borne of Western ideals totally bereft of understanding the cultural norms of my forebears.

I appreciate that I am quite detached, if not absent, but to mistake any of that for being oblivious is to fail to understand the power of influences of place, people, and position on the character and personality of a person.

One gets dismissed as a foreigner, mostly for convenience in terms of taking guidance, one's generosity is however more welcome and accepted than when one’s Western-tainted wisdom is dispensed. People only align with you where there is some advantage they can gain.

Time is not time to them

The somewhat unfortunate and conspicuous Englishman in me is rarely gratified on the use of and the sense of time as a material of precise measurement, by others.

You could be forgiven for thinking you live in a totally different universe, their timepiece is usually lagging yours by hours, and any synchronisation takes no consideration of putting any value on your time. It is assumed; you always have the time to suit the needs of another rather than yourself.

What a foible it becomes, if you are fastidious and punctual, making every effort to be on time and on schedule. You strive on principle to ensure any inkling of not making an appointment is always communicated with respect and courtesy to the other person.

Making allowances for them

Time to them maintains and retains an elasticity totally indeterminate, that no properly functioning watch can aspire to give it any sense. Your attempt at giving time a bare modicum of precision is to be viewed as an obsession indicative of a mental health problem.

Even with the allowances made for tardiness, patience is ultimately a finite resource, and if others have no better things to do with their time, it is not universal. In the Western world of thought to which I have belonged for longer than I can remember, the abuse of your time is a clear sign of disrespect.

This is why I have adopted the flexibility of allowing the other person to decide the time and place for any meeting. I know I'll be there, on time.

It begs the question when the person who chose the time and place for our meeting is not there on time and has not bothered to communicate why. If you cannot keep to the time you set for yourself, what can you successfully do for yourself?

Iya Banji

From whence we came

The kind of life my parents served me created a radically different history and story from the one they had experienced. More fundamentally, what defined their childhood from the little village where they made their first friends to the unforgettable memories that they have rarely shared separates us even further.

Though I have some fond memories of visiting our hometown and meeting with cousins, grandparents, and distant relations, I find none of the affinity for the place as one parent does, and another so thoroughly reviles. I have no such identity with the place except in the compulsion and diktat of my forebears; I was last there about forty years ago.

Significantly, these people who once came out of that town and travelled the world as it was their oyster and, in the process, became successful professionals of every sort, have returned to this place to retire enjoying the good fortune of old age and the misery of watching peers and juniors pass away around them.

Balls on the road

One memory best told in our dialect of Ìjẹ̀bú, in which I have the most laughable proficiency, if any at all, finds its best delivery in my faulting but unmistakable recollection.

My mother was driving from Lagos to Ijesha-Ijebu with my aunt, who was my dad’s immediate younger sibling. She was known to us through the name of her first son, and it was evidently disrespectful of us all, because he is the first and eldest of all our maternal and paternal cousins.

As we passed from Ikenne towards Ilishan, on the home straight to Ijesha-Ijebu, the spare tyre in the undercarriage at the back of the Peugeot 504 she was driving detached and fell onto the road. Someone called in Ìjẹ̀bú that the testicles had fallen. “Wóró ẹ̀ ti jábọ́ o.”

We stopped and I went to pick up the tyre, rolled it up to the car and fixed it back to the undercarriage, securing it properly with the clip. My mum and aunt were out of the car, watching that everything was done properly. As I finished, my aunt quipped in Ìjẹ̀bú, “Well, the person of whom it has been said their testicles have fallen, now has them tied back up in the sack.” “Ọni rán fọ wóró ẹ̀ jábọ́, nà tí so padà yẹ̀n.”

In tribute and sympathy

This remains one of the lasting memories of my aunt, her great sense of humour delivered dead pan with such seriousness, yet you could not fail to get the joke, which by happenstance was also the spelling of her name, meaning who we care for together, she was no joke, by any stretch of the imagination.

A hardworking, strong, purposeful woman and a purveyor of wholesale foodstuffs, she was kind-hearted, lovely, approachable, and ever so considerate. Definitely, one of the best of my father’s siblings. She was the female leader of the Muslims of our hometown.

I learnt Monday afternoon that she had passed on, and she was interred according to Islamic rites on Sunday. Better to rewrite the feelings expressed here, unfortunate as it seems, each person has their individual issues and perspective of things, that might never be that well understood.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un. (Al-Quran 2:156) “Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Allah we shall return.”

A prostate cancer diagnosis, one year on

Time always matters.

In the passage of time lies the recognition of many things: living, living well, and the joy of living. This is true despite, and in spite of, other issues such as adversity, disappointment, unfulfilled yearnings, betrayals, and episodes of diagnoses that lay bare our vulnerability and mortality.

I count my blessings and celebrate each day as an opportunity to enjoy and behold the goodness in people, ideas, and places. Having the strength and means to do so places us among the privileged in ways we often fail to appreciate.

I rarely consider myself lucky; I am more inclined to think of myself as fortunate, not by my own doing or ability, but by mercy and grace. I can only express my gratitude that each day brings opportunity and ease, ample ability, and extraordinary capacity.

The extent of our imagination and vision defines our limitations; we can only exceed them through inspiration and revelation. The scope of our influence can be limitless, but until we believe it and are convinced of that possibility, we resemble chickens seeking the perspective of eagles.

Once you know, you know.

A year ago today, I was reading hospital notes from the consultant I had seen the day before, and in an instant, I became a victim of computerization without appropriate human oversight.

A diagnosis that I should never have learnt about before meeting the responsible consultant appeared in my records and was something the consultant I visited the day before should have reviewed before posting.

That is how I unwittingly discovered the diagnosis of adenocarcinoma of the prostate. A year is quite a long time when it comes to a cancer diagnosis, as you are left wondering what it entails, if it is treatable, how you will tolerate the treatment once you have decided on whatever course is available, and the aftereffects of that ordeal.

Giving thanks always.

I was not prepared for a second diagnosis of cancer, but when it came, I encouraged myself with words and sermons about healing and living, seeing beyond adversity, and leaving no room for discouragement, regardless of the prospects ahead.

Obviously, some eight months after completing radical radiotherapy, some lingering side effects remain; my voice is light, high, and sometimes sounds quite tired, but in myself, as Brian would typically enquire, I am doing fine. All thanks to God, my partner, my friends, my colleagues, the teams of medical personnel striving for the best outcomes, and that earnest desire to tell a better story.

This puts everything into perspective; each day is a blessing.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XVIV - I Just Can't Wait

Blog - Men's things - XXIV - A presentation

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Urinary incontinence: One of those prostate things

Not holding tight enough

I found myself looking at a range of men’s underwear for a particular issue when I realised that my sturdy resolve to postpone a nature call until a time when I could access suitable conveniences was leading to embarrassment.

The pair of red trousers I wore recently turned a dark shade due to wetness, but I was literally at my front door, and the little control I seemed to have before was no longer effective; I had just wet myself.

As it stands, this is the second time I have had to deal with urinary incontinence in a week. It is cause for concern as it is understandable that the complete resolution of prostate issues will take time.

Wear to wherever

For the long-haul flights to and from South Africa, my incontinence underwear cost a fortune, and their care required special washing machine bags with a low-temperature and gentle cycle programme.

Tena seems to have a more affordable range with less stringent maintenance and care factors to keep them in use. Most of the time, I do try to be near public conveniences, and it also makes sense to use them as often as possible, to avoid being so hard-pressed and causing a mishap.

Generally, these are for leaks rather than for full flows; containing this within the underwear rather than allowing it to show around the front and down the trouser leg could be a saving grace too.