Twenty-Seven Years and a Day

A Manchester Eclipse

Time is measured in epochs that put our ephemeral existence into insignificance. I have been in the path of a few celestial events, solar eclipses that, without the explanation of modern science, would have left us in total dread and foreboding.

Today in Manchester, we witnessed a partial solar eclipse. Things did not really go dark, but everyone was looking up to behold this once-in-a-lifetime heavenly sight.

I could not get hold of eclipse glasses, so I improvised, making a pinhole camera. I probably needed a bit more depth to the box, but it occupied me enough that I did not dare to look directly at the sun.

An AI-generated infographic on the blog content. (Click to enlarge.)

Finding a Better View

As I live in an urban city centre with many high-rise buildings, getting a good view first entailed standing by the roadside, before I made my way to Mayfield Park, which we as residents sometimes forget is so close and quite vast.

I watched it well beyond the maximum before a lady offered me her glasses, and I then looked directly at the majesty of our universe.

Twenty-Seven Years Earlier

Twenty-seven years and a day ago, we had another solar eclipse. This one was quite prominent; not totality, but you saw and noticed the dimming of the light. As the light dimmed, it took on a sepia hue, almost like being inside a photograph from the 1940s.

It was also a different place. I was visiting a friend in the Netherlands, who lived out in the countryside at Doorn, and what a spectacle we saw in his garden.

Doorn is also the town in which the Kaiser of Germany spent his last days. Wilhelm II abdicated in 1918 and lived at Huis Doorn until his death in 1941; fittingly, he seems to carry that same feeling of the 1940s that the sepia light evoked.

The House at Doorn

My friend's mother took me on a tour of Huis Doorn. As her father had been the groundsman, their house stood on the grounds, and she, with the other children, would run around the house having tea with the Kaiser.

She showed me the chutes they slithered through to get from one part of the house to another: a historical monument, visited with a guide whose own history was formed within its walls.

A Turning Point

I cannot tell why an eclipse could be both momentous and auspicious. I did not see the future, for I had just come out of a seven-year relationship. We remained friends and planned a short holiday to Brussels.

As he returned to England, I headed north to Holland. Nine months later marked the beginning of a new life in the Netherlands, twelve and a half years of it. No, it was not to enter a relationship, though I remained in contact with my friend in Doorn.

Written in the Skies

And God said, "Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth." And it was so. [Genesis 1:14-15 NIVUK]

I do not do things by chance. This might be a harbinger of things to come; the least you can do is to be ready for when change and opportunity come.

Life is like a story written in the skies, sometimes clear, at times cloudy, and even, on occasion, in the dimness and haze of sepia. It comes as experience, to be written into memory and history.

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Love, Distance, and a City Called Home

A Month On

Today marks a calendar month since I boarded the flight for the 13-hour, 25-minute journey back from Cape Town to Manchester, and yet the scenes from that visit still run through my mind as though the credits have not quite rolled. Already, I am planning the next one.

Cape Town represents more than a destination; the story began barely seven years ago, when Brian and I had our second rendezvous in South Africa. Soon after we met in Johannesburg in December 2018, I resolved to spend the next Easter with him.

It was a stroke of good fortune that in late February 2019, work dried up and, rather than loiter aimlessly waiting for a new posting, I took a next-day flight to Johannesburg. It was entirely unscripted, and yet it became the scene that changed everything. Brian joined me for ten days, which became the consummation of our relationship.

From Joburg to Cape Town

I did not cancel the planned Easter meeting. Some scenes, it seems, are written regardless of what comes before them. We were going to meet up in Johannesburg, fly together to Cape Town, and then return to Joburg for the end slice of our holiday.

Now, we just meet up in Cape Town and make home in apartments around the city and suburbs. It is the kind of story you return to willingly, knowing the setting well but always finding something in it you had not quite seen before. Each stay brings unforgettable memories as we work towards being together a lot more than being apart.

What Love Brings

What Brian brings into my life is immeasurable: love, care, companionship, laughter, shared experiences, and stories that make our uniquely special bond everything that matters to both of us. These are not trivial things. They are the substance of a story worth telling, and more importantly, worth living.

My heart is full, and I am blessed with such unconditional love that I pray daily to be worthy of the affection that someone expresses so wholly, freely, sincerely, and unashamedly.

Never a Dull Moment

There is never a dull moment. The way we seek out adventure, revisiting old haunts or discovering new places, gives the story its texture, the kind of detail that stops a narrative from flattening into something predictable.

So, Cape Town is a place transforming into a reality what is the stuff of impossible dreams coming true. Love transcends distance, endures difficulty, ekes out the best, and writes the stories we could never have imagined.

Cape Town, Our Home

Our minds walk through places we have registered so well that each recollection feels like more than words. It is like a film playing back, slowing just enough for us to keep up with everything, with no need to rewind or fast-forward; it is always at the right pace. Perhaps that is what love does to memory. It becomes the editor, keeping only what matters.

That is why we know Cape Town will be our home, our sanctuary, our nest, and our place. The story is far from over. We cannot wait to be together again in the Mother City; even time folds for the purpose of real love.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Our Awesome God: Eternity Beyond Earth's Limits

Phil Wickham - What An Awesome God (Official Lyric Video)

The Vastness of Existence

Living on this planet Earth in the vastness of the universe presents an awesomeness about our existence and what makes us exist. Sometimes, I think we are hardly well acquainted with the lifeforms we share this Earth with. Limited by the natural elements of sound and light, our ability to perceive is lacking, even with instrumentation.

In my view, all the planets could be inhabited with lifeforms so radically different from us but fully adapted to the environments they are in, just as fish take to water as we take to land. However, that is another story.

Time in the Eternal Spectrum

We live in a spectrum of eternity; time as we measure it is an infinitesimal fraction of that expanse. In the infinite stretch of eternity from the past, through the present, into the future, everything exists and then does not. Yet we have the imagination of time travel in both directions that can surmise everything is happening at the same time, though our experience of it is limited to the present.

A star somewhere in the firmament is born as another dies, yet it could take billions of years for the light from those stars to reach us. What we then experience in the present is in the distant past of that star. It is a mystery, and there is likely more that transcends the limitations of light in speed and for sight, that could carry us into any time in the span of eternity.

Wheels Within Wheels

In the Scriptures, we read of wheels within wheels. Viewed in the context of time, each wheel has a hub and spokes to the rim and edge of the wheel. If eternity were a wheel, from the hub, you could have a view of any part of the eternal landscape that presents as a sphere of wheels engineered in awesome craftsmanship that defies explanation. Time becomes a place you choose to belong in or observe. [Bible Gateway: Ezekiel 1]

Another wonder is shared by Apostle Peter about the concept of time in the eternal scheme of things, when he says, "that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day" [Bible Gateway: 2 Peter 3:8].

Eternal Life Beyond Earthly Limitations

The longest-lived man in the Bible lived for 969 years; Methuselah did not live the length of a Lord's Day. Then just consider the coming of Jesus Christ, who gives eternal life to those who accept Him as Lord and Saviour.

We are taken out of the limitations the Earth, light, and time impose on us as we decay in earthly living to a dimension that is sure to blow any earthly mind away. Our God is an awesome God.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

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?

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

Springing forward and losing time

Time shifting around

I seem to be better adjusted to the concept and the reality of daylight saving, and while I cannot fully explain the benefits of it, nor do I intend to research it for this blog, the phenomenon has a way of catching up with me.

I have adopted an American aide memoire in understanding how we change our clocks in October and March, usually on the last Sunday of the month. We Spring Forward and Fall Backward. Fall is the American version of our English Autumn.

As most clocks in the home are electronic, especially on computers and watches, whether you gain or lose an hour whilst asleep at 2:00 AM can go without notice, the alarm clock will still go off at the set time.

A wind-up situation

When it comes to clocks on devices and appliances like microwaves or standard ovens, especially if you are a time obsessive, you notice you have lost an hour in the spring or gained one in the autumn.

When I used to have mechanical clocks around the home, I changed the time before I went to bed; it made the change in time more manageable.

For Brian, in the spring we enter a time of just having an hour’s difference between us, rather than two hours. It represents some closeness, but not close enough in distance.

A circadian disruption

In my case, the apparent coping mechanism for British Summer Time has not kicked in; my body clock is yearning for something that suggests an unnatural event has occurred; adjustments governed by the reading of the time are not compensated for in my biorhythms.

My circadian rhythm is out of whack, and that is not helped by my early mornings feeling like a winter that has refused to depart. The sun offers a glowing spectacle during the day, but we cannot expect more than 18° Celsius for the rest of the week.

It is a struggle to keep alert without stimulation of vigorous activity or the exhilaration of caffeine intake. I have, in times past, pinched myself or given my ankle tendon a kick, inflicting just enough pain to jolt myself back to life. Then, maybe it is still the residual side effects of radiotherapy, who really knows?

We break the codes of time for pecuniary advantage, more light in the evening for spring and summer, and the greater benefit for farmers in the autumn and winter. What you cannot fail to notice is that when the sun shines, we make the best of it, getting the warmth and a bit of a tan too, in Manchester, of all places.

Dreamscape: Was this old Manchester?

Back to the yesterdays of yesteryear

The wonder of dreamland and what one can discover in almost hallucinatory repose is an interesting spectacle. The other night, I walked by the University of Manchester and landed in a picturesque landscape more than 40 years ago, buildings I recognised and things that had changed.

A distinct Manchester Business School sponsored by a large conglomerate, its hoarding atop the school, so unmistakable, yet I forget. Buildings that have been replaced, old in Victorian red brick or new with the facade of brutalist architecture in stark concrete, I was somewhere I knew and did not know.

A picturesque idyll, I recall

Oxford Road was a narrow and busy tree-lined avenue, looking like a forlorn escape from the city to a remote location that you might only visit on business or purpose alone. A village road with cottages from a bygone time, now lost to the sepia of a picture found in the attic of a long-gone ancestor’s home.

I walked up the nondescript pavement that looked more like a grassy verge, dusty rather than macadamised, dust swept up by the heat of summer, all the way to St Peter's Square that had the semblance of a motor park terminus bustling with the energy of an African city station.

In the wonder of dreams

It was full of confusion, I could not find the bus I needed to board, if I could determine where I was even going. I wandered around listless and thinking about why I consciously felt I had travelled back in time from a more familiar present.

Indeed, Manchester was different back then, before I ever came to live in Manchester, but between my dream and the reality, I cannot vouch for truth in my dreams. I guess it just brought many memories to play and create a dreamscape of a time it was best I never experienced. The power of imagination in dreams sends you to times and places you never knew existed.

The ordeal of another Microsoft certification test

Sorely tested to the testicles

By the time I clicked on the submit button, I was all shook up in an Elvis Presley kind of way. I had no time for filling out feedback forms, I had been stripped of every dignity and confidence suggesting passing this Microsoft test, I was expecting some bad news.

It was 57 questions in 100 minutes, I barely had 90 seconds to spare at the end. Then, I rarely mark questions for review, my first answer or gut feel response is usually my final answer, no point scraping over sores left by finding out that you’re not as sure as you thought you were.

It is just over three weeks ago that I passed another test with barely a week of preparation.

The preparation never ends

I had painstakingly gone through the theoretical stuff for this one, and attended courses from both Udemy and Coursera, I could even run the latter at 1.5x and keep up with what was being said. Practice, practice tests, even AI producing flashcards for revision. It could easily have been 48 hours of serious study in just over 2 weeks.

What other tips I could get from people who had passed or failed the test were best viewed from Reddit, everything filled the spectrum from a full gloat to despondency at multiple attempts without success. You had to feel bad for them and there was a moment I thought I would be returning as a glutton for punishment in a few days to revisit the site of my drubbing.

My initial plan was to try for Tuesday, but I had a health progress meeting in the afternoon. It wasn’t until Wednesday afternoon that I decided I had done enough, and I booked the test for Friday with hardly any leeway for postponing or rescheduling the test.

Time is not as kind

One new feature of the test is the open book facility, useful for getting exact details, but it could be a time-consuming trap when looking for ideas or processes. I fixated on the documentation section where I needed to and pored through the search results page for clues before clicking on links to dig further. It is helpful, but time suddenly plays like an hourglass; given girth to let the sand through without constraint.

The most important thing is not to panic, get to the direct question asked then walk back to the scenario or setting presented, especially when you are running out of time. Things click better when you know what you are looking for having had a glimpse of the suggested answers.

When the final screen came up, I had not done that well in one section and did much better than average in the three other sections. The most important thing, I had exceeded the passing score, I passed. Amid the shaking and trembling, as I tried to catch my breath, I signed out, collected the printout and called Brian. What a relief and well, it is preparations in earnest for the next certification test.

Photons on the Prostate - XV

The need for quality support

When it comes to talking about cancer, I have had the best support from a Cancer Support Nurse Consultant (CSNC) recommended through support services with my place of work. We have scheduled monthly meetings where for sometimes more than an hour we can address all my concerns and issues around dealing with cancer.

Our first meeting which was via Microsoft Teams, and I insisted on an audiovisual engagement rather than plain audio, we talked for about two hours, and it involved giving her a full background on the process to the discovery of cancer and attendant issues.

Macmillan Cancer Support, the Christie Hospital, and my GP have been supportive but what I needed most of all was someone ready to spend time listening, understanding, appreciating, and recommending how to navigate a cancer diagnosis through treatment and recuperation.

I dare say my engagement with Prostate Cancer UK was a distraction. I was well on the way to having active treatment based on the diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, but they thought I should delay treatment for active surveillance. While anyone would prefer not to endure surgery or radiotherapy, I could not postpone treatment for the comfort of normalcy while cancer was having a gnaw at my prostate gland.

The usefulness of helpful advice

My CSNC is a registered nurse and quite knowledgeable about many of the elements around pelvic area cancers. Most of the progressive solutions I have had to manage the symptoms and side effects along with after-treatment conditions have come through our conversations. Everyone else was just at the end of a telephone, she was there to be seen and heard. It made a whole lot of difference.

In our last meeting we talked about emerging symptoms and side effects with bowel functions. The literature suggested with radiotherapy, people have more issues with the bowel than the urinary or sexual functions. I however had serious urinary problems that I hardly noticed if bowel movements were regular and working as expected.

She then suggested the documented side effects are not essentially a textbook expectation, that side effects can occur at any time during and after treatment in no particular order along with the fact that for some people, they might not experience some side effects at all.

Some outstanding concerns to address

I was recommended to keep a diary of nutrition and excretion patterns, noting the regularity of movements to find what might be the issue beyond the healing process from radiotherapy. While my energy levels are improving, I still find that I tire easily, my need to use the conveniences intervenes with my comfort, and I need to sit down after walks.

Much as I want to believe I am doing well; I am still not where I need to be. I must consider if a phased return to regular activities is needed. That conversation can wait until late in January. What I must do now is relax, rest, recuperate, and recover. Manage the symptoms and side effects as best I can while celebrating the gift of life.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Thought Picnic: Time

Time is not a property

Time is a gift we usually do not use properly or cherish its utility. The time we should make for ourselves, for others, or for things. Using time judiciously without wasting it, for ourselves or for others.

The reckoning accounted for in the scheduling and keeping of appointments, giving little room to tardiness out of consideration, courtesy, and respect. We get away too often with not being punctual and having excuses for why we have failed on our part.

There are many facets of time and timekeeping, having an agreed datum for a time reference, that time is not just ticking away, but correct on every timepiece in whatever location, so no one is confused about what the time is. If any time is askew, it should only be in a reasonable margin of error of the magnitude of a few seconds and never more.

Time is a generous gift

Beyond the exactitude of time, the most critical use of time is finding the time and making the time to cultivate relationships, to create wholesome and life-enhancing connections with ideas, people, and events.

After the fact, we find ourselves regretting not seizing the opportunities that time has afforded us, but we are allowed to pass until it is too late. We give time to the negative in holding grudges and offence when should be constructively changing the paradigm for the beauty of fellowship.

Certain things are irredeemable, yet until we have tried our best at redeeming them, we let things lapse and ruefully review in the dreamy unreality of a parallel universe that could have been the universe we inhabited if we made better use of time.

Time is a gift; it is a present we need to be more grateful for and be profusely thankful that we are given a measure of it to make the best of life and living.

Thought Picnic: Using time to recover

 

Ringing the 'End of treatment bell' on the 9th of October 2024

To ring that bell

It is four weeks since I rang the bell signalling the end of my radiotherapy treatment for malignant prostate cancer. From the moment I saw what the bell was meant for in the waiting area of the radiotherapy department at the Christie Hospital, I had every desire to make it toll.

For the 20 weekdays that I attended sessions for treatment, I only heard the bell ring thrice, the first two times was within ten minutes of each other, and then it was almost two weeks later that I heard it again. We all applauded at the celebration the ringing meant.

Yet, the distance in time from the said treatment has not resulted in the lessening of the effects of it, I have just soldiered on with the force of will and determination when I should have taken some time off. That would happen in earnest, and I am looking forward to it.

Perspective to recovery

Thinking back to almost 15 years ago; over five months, I endured 7 gruelling sessions of chemotherapy every three weeks that I was told, I would at the minimum need 6 months to recover. There were many things to recover from, weaning myself of opioid pain killers took three months after I felt no more cancer pain.

My return to work, just six weeks after chemotherapy was too much to manage that for the rest of the year from the end of March, I had Wednesdays off. My ambulatory performance had me lagging well behind people having a leisurely walk and the recovery of my sense of taste for different flavours took just about as long too.

Strangely, the seemingly lasting effect of chemotherapy was it shortened the time in which I was allergic to pollen from about 6 months to around 2 months. If anything, recovery from treatment for cancer takes time. We sometimes find ourselves too afraid to take all the time necessary to recover.

Photons on the Prostate - IX

Time shows up again

It never really occurred to me until a few minutes ago that fifteen years ago today, I was discharged from the hospital after an eighteen-night stay for a myriad of health complications manifesting in skin cancer, that ride back home to the security of my castle was the beginning of seeing life beyond cancer.

This afternoon, I completed 20 sessions of hypofractionated radiotherapy for malignant prostate cancer, I left the suite to ring the bell thrice to signal once again, life beyond a second and different episode of cancer.

“It was a bell of hope and expectation to us, the sound of enduring survival of the human spirit, and the herald of the beginning of the rest of the ringers' lives, free of cancer and thriving after cancer.” [Photons on the Prostate - IV]

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Appreciation and consideration

For this last day, I had planned to thank the receptionists and the multidisciplinary team separately with cards and gifts, I felt they were professional, friendly, considerate, caring, engaging, prompt to act, and exhibited good bedside manner understanding the kinds of human infirmity and vulnerability we all face. A little gesture of appreciation goes a long way.

Having discussed the issues with my prostate behaving like a kettle on the boil, they arranged for palliative medication to address this discomfort. The pharmacy had a 30-minute wait time for service requests; after my radiotherapy, I had forgotten to pick up my prescription, I was already halfway home when I remembered and returned to the hospital to retrieve my goods.

The last radiotherapy session was uneventful; however, I was given advice on how to manage symptoms, calling the hotline, which is open 24/7, and the possible follow-up appointment post-treatment in about six weeks.

In the aftermath of all this

I wished everyone good luck as I left the radiotherapy suites, 20 weekdays that began 4 weeks ago, quite daunting a prospect and how the passage of time helps pale into insignificance. I have not acquired a taste for still water, I am so looking forward to feeling that fizz on my tongue.

I still have dishwater (decaffeinated) Earl Grey tea and Nescafe instant coffee that I might drink in remembrance of this episode in my life, God forfend this becomes a habit. Then, I stripped off the transparent Tegaderm film dressings that protected the three tattoos I acquired for positioning me on the gurney of the linear accelerator. You might get marked by cancer; you do not have to be defined by it.

Photons on the Prostate blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VIII

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VII

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - VI

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - V

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - IV

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - III

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - II

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - I

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Essential Snobbery 101: Time is about you and how you respect others

Time for peace of mind

Last Thursday, I had a hospital appointment for 9:45 AM, in my planning the day before, I had determined that it was best to get the bus and at least 3 buses plied the route to the destination for a journey that would have taken 30 minutes.

Then accounting for reaching the intended department in the hospital complex, I gave about 15 minutes, especially if I could not get good directions or got lost along the way.

This meant I had to leave home at the very latest time of 9:00 AM with a 2-minute walk to the bus stop. I had a friend offer to accompany me to the hospital understanding the kind of discussion I was about to have, but their sense of timing was impaired by a personal emergency, he was not going to make it for my proposed departure time.

Time to ease the pressure

There are reasons why I keep time and many times my patience is tested by those whose concept of time suffers deficiencies of exactitude and timeliness, it is a fluid construct of happenstance dictated by quality of discipline and the aggrandizement of lassitude. Yet, for many reasons, these transgressions can be forgiven.

When it comes to hospital appointments, getting there with enough time to settle down before being called for initial observation before consultation is paramount. In circumstances where I have cut it too fine, my blood pressure has risen in consonance with the stress of not giving myself enough breathing space.

As I did not know what checks would be done, waiting for my companion was out of the question even as that presence would have been a source of support. When attending to medical matters, it is essential that you do not feel alone in that setting.

Time is respect and consideration

My attention to time is not just in this area, it pertains to appointments, schedules, travel, social events and much else. Time gives you a datum of measurement to allow disparate situations and people to align, when it is handled with levity, not only is it unfortunately a sign of disrespect, it gives little consideration to how others use their time.

To some, being fashionably late is a sign of status, I usually have 15 minutes to spare to allow for hinderances to being informed of why another is late, after which, I might well go and do something else. Heck! I have walked away from interviews because the interviewer has been badly behaved on keeping time.

My thinking, if you would waste the time of a stranger interested in working for you, what more would you do when they are contracted or employed? End the whiff of disrespect before it takes root. There might be an apology and an adjustment after, but that is not what I live for.

Time is first about you and then others, it is a paraphrase of loving your neighbour as yourself. Sometimes, I prefer others to choose the time, I’ll be there, I wonder what explanation you’ll have for not making it at the time you chose to meet.

Thought Picnic: In time we travel in strange individuality

Using time for a purpose

Time is a journey that we traverse for which we know neither the length of it in the existence of things nor the sections that punctuate the start or the end of what defines a life.

Life is represented in birth, living, and death, events becoming milestones that govern the stories we get to tell. Indeed, I write a lot about telling stories, my own stories, the stories of interactions, and the stories that I narrate of my observations of others.

Relationships form a significant part of how these stories develop, some of these relationships thrive on nurturing with due consideration and others wither because selfish posturing pervades the context.

How it made you feel

Invariably, I curate my relationships in interesting ways. The ones in which I naturally belong that I did not initiate have suffered more because ties are generally of obligation rather than of interest. The influences from nativity into adolescence have laid a marker of unresolved trauma and consequences that leave one in a state of sad disinterest.

Yet, these are my roots, in need of understanding and exploration even as the outlook that becomes me suggests I am totally different from where I am supposed to have some affinity.

It is not what many may understand and there is a likelihood that some regret might greet the further passage of time for which I am wont to allow resignation than ruefulness. Emotions can be attached or detached, and this is within the model of feelings of direct or indirect abandonment that constitute the upbringing I enjoyed that others might recall differently.

With autonomy, you find your own posse in the partners and friends, acquaintances and networks, communities and involvements which are parts of your interests and give some purpose to living.

I will tell my own story

What no one can do is tell my story just because they are part of my story, they can choose to forget what I remember vividly or even misremember the details of how I was affected. It is not a gift many possess to read the mind of another or sense the internal turmoil that is the reflection of a situation.

This is what makes us unique, consanguinity hardly affords similarity in looks, character, personality, experience, or life. Having the same source is hardly indicative of the direction of flow, we diverge from the moment we draw breath and travel these storied journeys until the last breath.

When the books are closed, an account is made that constitutes a tribute of sorts, where is fondness, there is much to mourn and the absence of which leaves us untouched to the point of being unconcerned and indifferent.

What we do for the dead is more for assuaging the conscience of the living for the dead can do nothing for themselves. In the end, what they have sown in life bears fruit as to how they are revered. What is cultivated poorly yields a poor harvest, where there is no work, whatever the result, that is what is there to see.

A play for time

Playing with time

Time is one of those things that seems immaterial to many, that the need to keep time is rarely important. While I am not obsessed with time, I like to have time, keep time, know time, take time, and use time. It matters in a lot of things, time is precious.

Yet, when it comes to setting appointments, I prefer to defer to others, and this might seem like ceding control to setting the agenda. We should not confuse agenda with schedule, the agenda is a series of points to discuss, and the schedule is when you have chosen to have that discussion.

I accept there might have to be adjustments for time, manner, location, and some other variables. However, when I concede the setting of the time to others, I already know I will be on time.

Playing on time

If you have then set the time and for whatever reason you have failed to keep to time, one element of irresponsibility has inadvertently been displayed, especially if parties to that arrangement have not been duly updated and informed you will be late.

Communication is key, but what I find amazing is for someone given all the opportunity to dictate the time not meeting conditions they had set for themselves and others.

I consider keeping people apprised as both a duty and a sign of respect. It is valuing their time, the idea of being fashionably late is pomposity passing for self-importance and insouciance.

Playing to time

Maybe punctuality is not a virtue, being punctilious saves you from avoidable stress in travel, appointments, and decisions.

There's not much to anyone who abuses or misuses time, wasting the time of others. Don't call me impatient if you are late, and if you are doing me a favour, please, do not take liberties too.

This brings me to African time and the picture I found in a restaurant convenience in Franschhoek, South Africa, my observation then was it was a bespoke watch, not for the purposes of keeping time.

African Time, Franschhoek, South Africa

Rearview October: Six birthdays, one wedding, two funerals

The past is weighted

There is a lot I thought I would get done in October but really got to do, whether to hit milestones, celebrate something, or achieve certain goals that seemed out of grasp for a while.

As men, we are inadvertently governed by time and seasons, the measurements and the agreements we have towards such parameters of time which could be by solar and lunar observation or the lunacy that appears in the broad expanse of life experiences is almost a beguilement of existence; we take each day as it comes and live each day to make some history.

For days, I have wondered about the month of October in my family, which is now in the past, but has accumulated dates of significance which just used to be birthdays, then a wedding, and now we have had two deaths, of which occurred just four days after their birthday is the prime of their life.

Everyone is a celebration of how they lived and the way they have touched us, more for good than bad. I suppose when I think about it, someone’s villain is another’s hero, I hope that I see more of the latter always and rarely if ever of the former. The inadvertent villain is at times probably the one who thinks of themselves as the hero and the saint; that brings us to November, and it is already the second day.

Blessed be the day we were born and the days in which we live to think of the goodness and the good people that surround us. Shalom!

In the eve of the year of the Lord 2023

What is a year?

Time is a construct of a frame of reference and for us earthlings, it represents how long it takes for the earth to revolve around the sun, our sun. Any day of 24 hours of the earth rotating once on its own axis can become that point from 365 days and a bit is measured to become a year and invariably, every day is a New Year.

It makes one wonder what ushering in the New Year is all about and whether one should put any more significance to any day than another, but in our humanity and depending on the culture and how we relate to the heavenly bodies we have broadly agreed on a concept of time measurement and milestones that makes today the last day of the calendar year of 2022 AD [anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi (in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ)].

It is grace upon me

The religious and Western significance of AD is not lost on me, for it allows me to reflect on the disappointments, misfortunes, sadness, failures, happiness, goodness, mercy, strength, comfort, successes, expectations, hopes, and good health that have defined this interesting year.

On a personal level, I know I am loved beyond what I could ever deserve, and I am grateful to my lover, Brian, my family, my friends, my neighbours, and even strangers that have held me up and buoyed me through situations I could hardly have traversed alone. Even more so, my faith has strengthened me constantly renewing and replenishing where exhaustion deigns to take hold.

Gearing to God

For those who drive, gears need to be engaged for a car to move with some determination, a car in neutral will remain stationary except if it is on an incline and the brakes were taken off, then it rolls and without control might well crash into something, causing damage.

It makes me think about how in religion faith and believing in God is also one of direct and practical engagement in prayer and supplication with desire and conviction for things to happen, God does not work in neutral, though accidents do happen.

The best comes

I am thankful for my health holding strong even after a scare that had me blue-lighted to the hospital a week ago, nothing to fear, just a strain that subsided after a couple of days without any intervention. The suddenly of anxiety soon gave way to the calm of assurance and a recovery of verve and swerve.

Daily, I have reason and cause to smile, even to laugh, to praise and to be filled with thankfulness, the privations of the present being swept away in the deluge of plentiful abundance of means, favour, opportunity, adventure, excitement, and dreams coming true. Let us reach out with the purpose to enter into the jubilee of the year of the Lord 2023.

Wishing you a very Happy New Year, the best is on its way.