Would Your Eternally Recur Given This Moment?

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Nietzsche was a man of many ideas. I previously mentioned Amor Fati; his idea that we should love our fate, and now I’ve just come across another concept of his that I feel worth butchering in my simplicity – eternal recurrence. Eternal recurrence is the idea that we are destined to repeat our lives over and over again for eternity. Now why he believed this is unclear, and it seems like something completely impossible to prove as anything other than theoretical. We would need to somehow step out of our understanding of time itself to do so. Saying that if we were to do this and view time not as linear but in a way I am unable to fully comprehend then this idea of our lives moving from beginning to end would be inaccurate and every moment would be existing always. I think I’ve heard it described as that in the past and if true would potentially make eternal recurrence true, just not as we would have previously understood it. If it were true though, and importantly we knew it to be true, would it make us view or live our life differently.

This could become a, are you happy with your life and would you change it moment, but that seems to simplify everything a little too much. For the sake of this though, no I don’t think I would change it and what has gone before as any outcome of any change is completely unknown and I don’t lack that much contentment with my life. Saying that it does make me feel I’m settling somehow and should strive for more or better but surely that misses the point somehow.

Assuming I live until seventy, I would be half way through my life now. There are things in the first half – which is all of it so far – that I cringe about and wouldn’t want to repeat, but then they accumulatively caused this moment now. And in the second half, in the knowledge that we will have to live it over and again for eternity do we start making the most of our life. If we decide upon that then does that mean we haven’t made the most of it so far and if we don’t have to repeat forever, would we somehow be content with this lack of value, if that’s the best way of putting it. Would this be an indictment of the way we live our lives, perhaps giving us the type of kick up the arse that makes us do something with our lives. An awful phrase and unnecessarily pressurised concept if ever there had been one.

But saying that it does allow us to see what value we put on our attempts at existing so far if we do play the hypothetical game. Perhaps that’s the whole point. It could be that Nietzsche never meant it in any actual sense but merely as a tool to see how much we love our life or our fate, if there is such a thing. But then he thought there was so we have no control anyway. If everything is eternally recurring then this has already happened, you have already read these words and you will read them again and again for eternity anyway. And if time isn’t linear, this moment is always happening. Sorry about that.

The Emotionally Pointless World Of The Football Fan

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What an evening. I’m thoroughly thoroughly unimpressed. I try to avoid talking about football too much. It has always been my dirty little secret in a way. Dirty secret when I’ve been a traveller hanging out with alternate types, be those hippies or anarchists, the multimillion pound world of Premier League football hasn’t entirely fit in with the image or the ideals. We just talk about something else in those moments, but if you want to talk about football I’m all ears.

Football fans are on the whole incredibly annoying. This is generally because not only do they all have an opinion but the majority are wrong and they’re usually wrong because they’re idiots. That sounds harsh but I suggest you take five minutes to read comments on message boards, Twitter or the like. Imagine all the frustrating things that people say about politics and the important issues you care about, convert that to football, multiply the stupidity by at least two and realise it’s on something that on the whole isn’t important which makes it all the worse. But it is important because it is something we use to distract us from our drab existences and as a result can have a huge bearing on our mental state for at least the rest of the evening and likely the morning too when thanks to the excessive coverage online we have to digest the night before once more.

It’s a new season and my team lost. I’m sure that’s obvious. It is unsurprising in a way because we were less match fit than the opposition as our first game was postponed but still they were better. We weren’t good enough. The second goal was a penalty that should never have been given. We now have video assistant referees in football and they were supposed to cut out the controversy but they still get too many decisions wrong for it to be deemed a success. It is early technology and can improve of course but it seems just as inconclusive and debatable, the only difference is the arguments have changed. The only thing people seem to agree on is the passion it has taken out of the game as people instinctively hold back their celebrations by twenty percent in case something is disallowed.

Anyway video technology or not we lost. One silver lining is it puts pressure on our inept board and owners to spend some of the clubs vast wealth and stop being so incompetent with transfers. I use inept in the way I do to describe Tory politicians, shall we just say devilishly genius and self-serving to the detriment of all others? Either way the pressure is now firmly on to buy the players we’ve dithered over buying all summer. Being incisive may cost a little more but I don’t give a shit. It’s not my money and the clubs already badly run for how it should be, it means nothing to me if they spend an extra ten million here or twenty there. It doesn’t mean anything really, it’s just numbers to the idiot fan like me. Hopefully this will be a boot up the arse as the club need it. We invest so much energy and emotion into football. I don’t know why we do it to ourselves.

The Storm Of The Mind

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The first time I came to Greece, perhaps it was about four years ago now. Time is strange, it decides itself how fast it moves. It may have even been five years. The destination was Lesvos and it was with the intention of being some kind of hero, there to save the refugees. Actually I’m not entirely sure what the intention was, it was just suggested to me by a friend as something to do and I thought why not. We arrived in a storm. For about four days the island was battered as people slept rough, they slept wet, they slept on hillsides that resembled rivers. The scene was destruction and devastation. It was post-apocalyptic in everyway except that I was able to return to my little hotel room once all the heroism was done for the day.

There is a lot that could be said about that time, little of it positive in a way but there are always things which shine through the clouds. I made friends who will be friends for a lifetime. That isn’t always something you can say. I also saw the world in a way I hadn’t previously, and I understood seeing truth in another form, despite being hard to take, was a good thing for the mind. These things are all about me though because to view it from any other perspective is too much of a challenge. Thousands of people passed through everyday. The fate of nearly all of them unknown to me. Many survived but I don’t doubt many didn’t, their fates too horrific for these words here.

I’m not sure why I’m going into this. I always feel so self-indulgent. The knowledge I’ll likely always have a hotel room to go to if I need devalues something of any assistance I could give. The words become hollow, if they ever weren’t. That and the knowledge I could also jump on a plane with relative ease and go to any of those countries people were dying just to reach. There is probably a sense of guilt in a way but we shouldn’t feel guilty when ultimately we’re powerless. It is also a completely pointless emotion as we can’t help the lives we were born into. We can help what we do with them but even then we’re limited in anything genuine. It does make you grateful for a bit but that slowly passes as you start casting envious eyes around once more. I can understand how people become detached when they exist in that world for so long. Or maybe they’re detached when they begin and that is how they last. That is unfair. People do what they can. What they have to.

I know why I’m going into this. I’m in day three back in Greece and it’s currently day two of Storm Ioannis. Apparently there will be a day three and day four will be the day the world comes back to life. The scenario couldn’t be further from the last and I am as much a different person as those people I now meet but arriving in a storm seems familiar enough that it has made me reminisce. Reminisce in the most miserable and sad of ways but then weather can do that to you. Our moods are so very defined by the nature of our environment. What is important though is to remember to come out with the sunshine once it returns. It’s best not to leave yourself in the storm.

BR#Eleven – Breath

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Let me tell you a little about breath. Not just any breath either, the perfect breath. It turns out my shallow two second inhale followed by two second exhale may just be doing both my mind and body the type of harm you wouldn’t immediately imagine something that brings life would. In truth two seconds may even be a little generous. It is a long way from the recommended five point five second inhale and five point five second exhale, which conveniently equates to the perfect amount of breaths per minute. Five point five for those who don’t fancy the maths. This is according to James Nestor whose new book Breath delves into the art of something which we all seem to be doing wrong.

Nestor explains the science and art of breathing. He uses anecdotes and scientific research to back up and prove his theories. He discusses thousands of years worth of knowledge like ancient Indian pranayamic breathing techniques and the Buddhist Tummo. Tummo has in the last ten years been sexed up, repackaged and proven to the western world by Wim Hof. He goes into his own experiments with Stanford University of only nasal breathing and only mouth breathing, all of which are backed up by the research results which show a dramatic and scary contrasting end result. Our mouths have shrunk and our teeth don’t have enough space to grow straight anymore, three hundred years of industrial processed food haven’t helped. Heart disease, anxiety, depression, chronic fatigue, asthma – the list of diseases related to incorrect breathing seems endless. He doesn’t suggest breathing is going to cure a rampant disease of course but it can help with the preventative part, the bit western medicines ‘cut it out and cure it’ approach seems repeatedly limited in. It does turn out we’ve been breathing wrong all these years and he explains how and why.

What he shares is immediately relatable. This dissection of the consequences of a breathing I know I do and which I instinctively know and have known for a while to be wrong and dangerous. Nestor has managed to explain something which is hard to disagree with within our narrow prism of proved truth. We need things to be proven in certain ways that Eastern texts don’t do, Nestor manages to do this with language and information it is hard to disagree with. As I said I can relate to what he is saying though and I suspect that is probably what has led to this book being the success it has been. Good authors manage to give new information in a way that makes the author feel they’ve always known it and finally it has been confirmed. Genuinely, I want everyone, and especially everyone I care about to read this. Now then, it’s time to go practise my breathing.

Yassou Old Friend

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September along with April and May is probably the best time to be in Greece. The second half of September in particular. The most extreme elements of the Greek summer have subsided; the heat, the tourists and the stressed Greeks trying to make money. This year is a little different but it seems to be following the usual pattern. There is a lot in this country that can frustrate a person, Greek or non-Greek, but it has more than enough to keep bringing people back. Secretly I love the place more than I’m frustrated by it but don’t tell anyone, sentiment like that gets in the way of being able to complain which is a favourite past time out here.

The plan is to fix up a boat. I’ll be sanding, painting, servicing engines and trying to work out why there’s water in the sail drive. The last will be the most challenging mentally but I’m not looking forward to being stuck down in the tiny engine compartments under the baking sun trying not to flood the engines with my sweat. It’ll be a good boat learning experience though. I’m a believer in the holistic approach to life so it is important to understand sailing isn’t just trying to catch the perfect angle to the wind with our sails or drinking gin and tonic in the sun. Watching everyone on their boats doing exactly that in the port today did make me a little envious though, there is something slightly unnatural about a boat out of water.

These thing I can worry about tomorrow though. Today has been about catching up on and ruining any notion of a sleep pattern as well as getting my bearings in this new place. In a way I’m back where I belong. I know despite my desires for a normal life I thrive in new lands. I enjoy finding my bearings and working out what is going on. I’m not always the best at chatting with everyone but I wouldn’t say I’m unsocial either. I got a good deal on a car rental and spent too much in the supermarket on food. In response I decided not to eat dinner in the taberna and ate a couple of kebabs washed down with a couple of beers in my car while watching people fish. It doesn’t sound like it should be a stand out thing but there was a reasonably attractive woman on her own fishing. It stood out because usually it’s old or middle aged couples and single men doing this kind of thing. It’s not a big thing and perhaps a subtle example but somehow Greece manages to find a way to provide moments which make you take notice. It’s what makes the place so interesting, and admittedly occasionally frustrating.

It would be nice to be out on the water though. I have some slight ideas of plans forming but will keep it all open. Jumping on a boat would certainly be an option I’m open to once I finish these repairs. Anyone going to the Canary Islands? I will say though as my feet and ankles experience that familiar feeling, I don’t miss mosquitoes when I’m not here. They do serve a purpose, I’m not someone who thinks they should all die but certainly I’m ready to discover the secret to what it is they’re attracted to and make the necessary changes in my life. The boat is at the far end of a huge boatyard and I’m hoping they don’t know I’m there. There’s nothing worse than one of those night sleeps. I’m sure it’ll give me something to complain about. Well, it is Greece, you have to do something in between all the enjoying life.

On The Road Again

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“See it. Say it. Sorted” says a message on the loud speaker after telling passengers to report anything suspicious. Don’t get me wrong there have been situations involving public transport in the past but the constant need to remind people of the fear they should be in, the potential that there could always be something to look out for, makes me far uneasier than any possible – I’m assuming terrorist – danger does.

I just missed my mouth slightly and spilt beer on my face mask. We can add that to the drawbacks list. I’ve never quite understood why when drinking alcohol is illegal in outdoor public places, on buses, even as a passenger in cars apparently; it is perfectly fine to drink on a train. I can only assume it has something to do with them being able to sell alcohol themselves and it being impossible to regulate train beer from carry on beer. Maybe it’s just a throwback to dining carts. I’m not complaining. Few countries in the world seem to allow such things and I see it as a genuine positive of what is already probably my favourite form of transport. I’ll take a bus if I have to, I’ll avoid the train if it’s too expensive and I’ll take the plane if it makes more practical sense but there’s still something I enjoy about a train that I’m yet to put my finger on entirely. Comfortable, fast, easy, goes through scenic areas. Maybe I should go on one of those long train journeys like the Trans-Siberian or across America, the Andes, Australia and anywhere else that begins with ‘A’.

Despite spending the last few months delivering bread and working in a bakery and pizza shop I seem a little more nervous about this virus though. The little Northumberland seaside village and the Scottish countryside of my parents feels like a little bubble I’ve stepped out of. I’ve gone south where bad things happen. I’m now in the real world. A world with dangers.

I can still only smell beer. This is going to make me paranoid. Is it me, do I stink of beer or is it simply a drop on my mask leading to a false reading. I’m not sure if I can spend the next twelve hours breathing beer fumes.

I’m on the move again then. Off to Greece. I’ve mentioned it previously but I doubt anyone reads every post every day so this is me informing you all I’m off to Greece. I had a short break in Dublin over Christmas but it does feel like I’ve not been abroad for a year now. This virus really has made us change our way of existing. I’m a little nervous actually and I’m curious how I’ll feel about it. I have a habit of wishing for the sedentary life when I travel a little too much and the travelling life when I’m in one spot for too long. Considering it has been a long time since Christmas and an even longer time since my last adventure, the wishing became a slight insanity.

It can be hard to leave though. We become comfortable and after all these years I do wonder if maybe I am getting a little old for all this. Ten years ago I did meet people in their thirties just starting out so perhaps age has little to do with it. We just experience things in a different way. I do find it harder to leave my parents each time though, especially now in this present virus related fear period. I don’t give a shit about potentially suspicious packages, I give a shit about my loved ones coming into contact with a deadly virus. Leaving them at the train station questioning whether it will be the last time I’ll see them but knowing I have to leave regardless. The truth is, life goes on. The whole world ground to a halt for a few months once already and now we just have to get on with it. It is easy to blame the economy and capitalism but it’s human nature. We can’t stand still. Sometimes it’s not always easy though.

The Post-Post-Brexit Phoenix

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Boris Johnson today suggested he was attempting to break international law in an effort to protect Britain’s “economic and political integrity”. For those who have travelled outside of the UK and actually had a conversation with anyone whose first language is not English, it has been pretty clear now for about four years that we as a country have little political integrity left. In 2016 shortly after the fateful day I was surrounded by utterly bemused Greeks, Spanish, French and Germans unable to make sense of what we had done to ourselves. For them, like most people I’ve met who are not of a particular ideological standing, the reaction has generally been a bemused one. Today, while I like to think I understand this Brexit issue from all angles, the truth is I too remain bemused. Since the referendum I haven’t felt compelled to jump on the “EU is perfect” bandwagon because firstly it isn’t, and secondly this level of fervent belief doesn’t appear to be that far removed in structure to the Brexiteers we’re fighting. The truth is always in the middle. Sort of.

I have recently been discussing the financial ramifications with a Brexiteer. I won’t go into particulars but this person has seemingly lost a rather large number of digits on the value of their wealth. This is mainly down to the falling value of the British economy and market in these last four years. With others I know losing in real time half the value of their estates, Brexit is very much something they can tangibly measure. I remember a few months ago reading about the cost of Brexit so far being the equivalent to all the money the British state – us – had so far paid to the EU since it’s inception, this loss is felt by all. The money the NHS was going to receive never existed, it was always a lie. Covid-19 will likely mask, or be used as a mask by the government and the media, the full extent of what is likely a no deal Brexit but it’s something no mask will manage to cover in our own life. While Boris attempts to convince his chums to embrace their inner teenager and break the law, we’re all left to pick up the pieces.

Make no mistake all we have left is pieces. The hardcore admit the economy will take a hit but that it will be worth it in the long run. Well what is the long run? For my generation, and the one after that, if not the one after that and possibly even the one after that – fifty years until we really see the benefits as Jacob Reece Mogg suggested last year. Great, I should be eighty-three years old by the time the country has fully recovered. Is ideology really worth that much? Myself and god forbid if I have children, them too. At least we won’t have to deal with the bureaucrats in Brussels as we fill out forms for bread.

There is so much lately that I just struggle to understand. Attempting to look compassionately from the other perspective seems completely futile now that the other perspective is hell bent on persevering with such a suicidal approach. Do we accept defeat and leave. Learn Mandarin? All this proves is that not only have we as a people failed to accept the defeat of our own empire roughly one hundred years ago but that we’re willing to go down with the worlds current self-defined ‘only’ superpower. Not only is it confusing it is depressing. We need to reinvent ourselves. Thankfully the ashes don’t appear that far away.

The Gibraltar Orca

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With Extinction Rebellion (ER) finally drawing real ire from the Government with their blockade of the propaganda master Rupert Murdoch, another species has seemingly hit the headlines for raising awareness of it’s own plight this week. The Straits of Gibraltar Orcas have been playing with sailing boats. Apparently unsuspecting sailors have found themselves suddenly turning half circle in response to orca whales ramming their vessels. They have been reported too as taking chunks out of the rudders of these same boats, leaving them to float uncontrolled in what is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. What precisely is leading the orca to do this is currently unknown to us.

Naturally there are plenty of hypothesis. Orca have been known to play with boats in the past. They are of the dolphin family and anyone who has sailed as a pod of dolphin join you, will know they are inquisitive and from our human perspective having fun. Having watched a dog lead me through it’s territory in Nepal once I have been curious whether dolphin are simply doing the same but really I have no idea. When playing with boats apparently orca have gently bitten on to the rudders and been pulled along like skateboarders in movies. This is the nice idea, their playing has simply got out of control.

Likely the reasoning is far more sinister. Orca are highly intelligent creatures and have found themselves in the Straits of Gibraltar struggling to survive. Their numbers are depleting with young calves invariably not living to adulthood. There are numerous potential reasons for this but it is a safe bet to suggest the depleted numbers of bluefin tuna, which form the orcas diet, will be having an enormous affect. This is a story we’re seeing repeated world wide with different animals in the sea and on land. With their natural habitat changing, or simply being destroyed, their movements and behaviour are evolving too. In the case of the orca their numbers are decreasing dramatically. In this stretch of water too, as happens across the world in similar situations, the local fishermen who catch the tuna see the orca as competition. While the sailing boats may traditionally be excited to see the whales, the fishermen see a challenge. There are reports of various whales having large cuts on their dorsal fins and across their bodies, it is argued these are the result of clashes.

The large volume of marine traffic in this area has been argued as a factor too. The relative silence in this area during Covid-19 restrictions has now ceased and it coincided with an increase in these ‘attacks’ in the months of July and August. At no point have they been seen as a threat to people but more that they have been after the boats. It is also unclear how much of a new thing this is, if they have been fighting fishing vessels it would likely be unreported and larger ships unknown. Perhaps though like ER they realised they need to make their presence known to those who might actually report and raise awareness of the situation. Not that these sailors can be accused of being the Rupert Murdoch’s of the sea but more they have evidently begun actions which have brought their plight to the worlds attention with an immediacy ER would be proud of. It is just one more example of the damage being done to an earth we’re dangerous incapable of living in with the kind of harmony our dominant position must demand. We seem happy to ignore the destruction we can see on land, it appears that now the orca have had enough of our ignorance of what goes on below too.

The Law Breaker Part Two

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If only I was in a position to go out and party this weekend I know I would be tempted. With new laws coming into force on Monday on there being no more than six people in one group at the same time, the media are reporting a police union’s fear that those reckless and irresponsible young people previously deemed wholly responsible for the spread of the virus, might take advantage of one last weekend of relative freedom. With the threat of all fun being put on hold until the spring can people really be forgiven. I know I would. And if there is such a fear of this happening then why have this new law start on Monday, why not Friday. Let’s all blame bureaucracy of course, but who’s willing to put a little cash on the Daily Mail, Daily Express and Daily Telegraph writing a piece on these devilish party folk and referencing this weekend if the government continue to fuck up at every opportunity and numbers increase. Scapegoat anyone? Ready made excuse. They’ll probably find a way to blame these revellers on the fact people had to drive hundreds of miles for a test. Or that Matt Hancock is still bizarrely in a position of power despite, well, everything he has done for the last six months. Saying that Boris, Dom and Mikey Gove are still the bouncing around full of beans. What’s that phrase about bad smells?

On a law breaking note, apparently Boris’s plans to avoid anymore of the “miserable squabbling” over Brexit, in other words do as he says or he’ll continue to squabble. He only plans on breaking international law in a “specific and limited way” as opposed to randomly and completely which presumably would be the bad way. The rumour is that the rebels in his party seem to be inconveniently perturbed by their own party damaging the integrity of the UK by “protecting the integrity of the UK” as Gove called it. It appears not even a stonking majority will allow this lot to completely do as they feel and in total disregard for the recognised ways of law abiding. The miserable squabbling appears to be returning as the rest of the country rejoices that not everything is going as planned. Is this the first step in a slight rebellion against a still perplexing government. The government has already had to make numerous u-turns since coming to power. If they are seen to be defeated by their own MPs then it quite significantly makes it clear to those in the party who don’t enjoy seeing their leader behaving in a less than legal and democratic way as being capable of crumbling. It may take time but once something can be seen as possible it inevitably becomes real. Time to get that deck chair out and prepare for the show.

The Endless Pandemic

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What on earth is going on with this virus? As expected the winter months will bring an increase in illness, which is normal, but does that also mean there will be an increase in virus numbers too. Earlier in the week the government decided to ban gatherings of more than six unless you had a card reader and the necessary funds available, the Scottish government followed suit a few days later. Today apparently the ‘R’ number is now back above one. This ultimately means we’re going in the wrong direction and they’ve added over a million Brummies to the local lockdown list to prove it. At what point do all the local lockdowns just merge into one and we admit we’re back where we were in April. Apparently football fans may still be allowed back into stadiums in October though, with pubs open they’ll at least be allowed a couple of pints before they go in. When will they just admit they’re slowly letting the virus move through the populace and creating this herd immunity they were at least honest about back in the Spring.

Bringing back the spirit of ‘The Blitz’ is a cringe worthy act and one I poured scorn on as the government and the media did their best to drum up some national unity and sentimentality when they did. Today though when I had a moment of realisation and despair that this was not over any time soon it did make my mind wander to past wars such as the Second World War. This pandemic has been around and affected our daily life now for about eight months, I despaired when I thought it might hang around long enough to hit the year mark. The mental resilience people must have faced to endure six years of hardship and the unknown. Of course they adapted and just got on with it but it is never as simple as that. A pandemic is fearing the unknown but more it’s an unseen and invisible enemy, it could be lurking anywhere. I admit generally I just get on with my day as normally as possible but it is still there in the mind, and societies daily norms are clearly all over the place still. It’s only been eight months and it feels endless. Maybe we are soft, I wonder what our grandparents would have done. Adapt or lose. Just get on with it in the meantime. What else is there.