Fraternity

I have to begin my blog with my gripe today. The french idea of fraternity seems to be to let their dogs poo all over the street and for children to then attach themselves to the mess. Last night I took my girls cycling to the park and Lily's bike immediately went through dog mess. I spent the next 20 minutes cleaning it with a stick and water from the public tap in the park while restraining my two year old from 'helping'. Nobody seems to care about it here. The streets are covered in it. All in various states of decay. If this blog wasn't meant to be so positive I might be tempted to say that it seems to me that this lack of concern for one's fellow human beings really sums up the french attitude to each other. Lots of superficial kissing and 'ca va's' but little depth. Of course I didn't say that did I!

But all of this is insignificant set against a tearful partner who has just seen the body of her deceased aunt. I have never seen a dead person before and I cannot imagine what it must be like. I do not want to imagine what it must be like. I did not really know what to say.

I got approached from a publisher about the possibility of writing a book on taking opportunities at work. I am quite attached to the idea but need to think it through. At the moment my head is solidly in my new book on anxiety. I am anxious myself about this one as I think it could be 'the one'. My publisher BBC Active may get rather irritated if I detect any letting up in the promotion of it. I feel like I could write for ever at the moment. It's always like that when I write a book. As soon as I finish one I immediately want to start the next while my brain is still fizzing. A few months down the line and the brain goes flat and it becomes harder to get started on the next one. So I may get started on the taking opportunities book while my brain is still sparking.

The weather here is worringly good. 20 degrees today and great sunshine. I sat outside our new cafe with a pot of darjeeling and the paper with the sun making a real effort to pierce the skin of my face and what a beautiful feeling it was. I even bought a scone from the conversational owner when he told me he had made them himself. By the way do you want to know what the french word for scone is? Why of course, you knew already didn't you! (scone). So there I was at 9.00am this morning with my traditional english afternoon tea of scone, jam, cream and pot of darj. Of course I would never do this in England at any time of the day. Wilde said that too much foreign travels dulls the mind. Given that many of us revert to the national stereotype that barely exists in our country any more when we are abroad he was probably right.

I used some of my psychology skills. A friend here in Pezenas is having considerable marital difficulties. We talked about depression and I suggested to him a number of people get depressed in their late 30's and early 40's and pull through. I think it has a lot to do with people having great ambitions in their teens and early twenties and then when they have failed to realise those ambitions (at a time when their life is 'half over') they begin to worry what exactly they are here for. I believe we create our own purpose. It's when we stop doing so, or when the purpose is not realised or when the purpose we create lacks resonance for us on its achievement that we get down. At this point many of us start to realise what sort of people we are as individuals and adjust our lives accordingly. But this can be difficult and the frustration can last a very long time.

When I reflect on the happiest part of my day today it is probably right now at this moment. My girls are sound asleep in bed after three hours of post-educational mayhem and I am rather enjoying writing my blog while listening to the excellent Moondog album 'Elpmas'. I wonder if anyone is reading it? I wonder who else in the world is listening to Moondog right at this moment? One day I will of course be able to find out immediate answers to both questions.

Music of the day: Moondog - Fujiyama Parts One and Two.