photo credit: Holly Norval Lifted by the light via photopin (license)
A momentary feeling
Of grace in the chaos,
Of calmness despite
This slow descent
Into catastrophe.
Just a glimpse
Into another universe
Like a stumbled upon path,
An oasis of plenty
In the forest,
Appearing out of the mist
On an April morning.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: PHOTO – Today in Vancouver: Burning in the Deep | Vancouver Aquarium via photopin (license)
I could un-live in unison
With all those dwelling down holes.
Lost within the rhythm of the swamp
Unwilling to swallow the poison
Offered by the medicine man.
Staying trapped inside the wheel,
The eighteen ’til seventy-five comfort
Of a paycheck and a pain deep in the gut,
And the bitter acceptance that the boss
Really does get paid to know less than me.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
One of these mornings
You’re going to rise up singing
Then you’ll spread your wings
And take to the sky
Summertime, Porgy & Bess
Day 18: This post is welcome reminder of summer for me…
Words from Rush by Frank Regan 2015
Hello, how are you?
I’m now back in the UK after a trip to Greece – the island of Skiathos to be precise. Well to be really precise I’ve been back a fortnight but that was only in body, in spirit I was still balanced precariously on a bean bag sipping a cocktail at the Rock and Roll Bar overlooking the bay.
Skiathos was a place I really fell in love with for its scenery, its people and the overall vibe of the place. It had a certain je ne sais quoi (probably sounds much cooler in Greek). Most importantly it was the break I needed to separate me from the events leading up to and the manner in which I left my job. Skiathos was the perfect break from the mundane realities of life.
But no holiday lasts forever, and though it…
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My confidence level, very, rarely stays high. As low as the Marianas Trench, now, I can manage that no problem.
I’m so good at having low-confidence I could even give talks on the subject. Not that anyone would want to listen to me droning on…
You get the picture; I love to talk myself down. And given that it is now four months since I quit work. Summer has been and gone, the days are becoming shorter, and doubts are sneaking-up to hide in the shadows waiting to pounce.
Where’s an Alchemist when you need one?
Let me make it clear, I do not regret leaving my previous employment, in fact, I believe it will turn out to be the best decision I ever made. No, NEWSFLASH, it is the best decision I have ever made in my life so far. However…
At the moment the goals I am working towards haven’t been bringing in the big bucks.
“My other piece of advice, Copperfield,” said Mr. Micawber, “you know. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, result misery. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, the God of day goes down upon the dreary scene, and – and in short you are forever floored. As I am!”
From David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.
Perhaps they never will. I knew that when I made my decision. But still when someone asks me have I got a job(?), have I been applying for jobs(?). I get angry. Now those that ask me have I got employment tend to know far more about my “Grand Plan” than I have shared online. They shouldn’t need to ask loaded questions, right?
The Big Push
However, the real reason I get angry is because, whisper it, I’ve been asking myself the same.
Is the “Grand Plan” a load of old tosh? I’ll fail at this goal; I’m not good enough to fulfil that role. No one wants to read my poems, let alone my stories. It’s pointless, I’m useless.
For some reason, this time, this self-depreciation made me think of Weebles…
…you know the things that wobble, but won’t fall down.
Because I know it is just a wobble, I’m not falling over; and if I do fall over then so what. At worst, it is a grazed knee or a bruised ego. The plan goes on.
Why?
Well this time there is a difference, this time I actually like and respect the person I am working for, because I am my own boss. That does not mean I haven’t had some good bosses in the past and that I won’t at some future date find myself within a traditional career structure and happy to be there.
For this is not about self-employment, this is about self-respect.
Yes, my current boss makes mistakes, wastes time, spends way too long in coffee shops just staring out of the window, and is the only one who finds his crappy jokes funny. But overall, he is making progress.
Yes, the “Grand Plan” may be held together by sticky backed plastic and forward motion may be limited to a series of Weeble wobbles but I am wholly responsible for my own future.
© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Words from Rush by Frank Regan 2015
Hello, how are you?
I’m now back in the UK after a trip to Greece – the island of Skiathos to be precise. Well to be really precise I’ve been back a fortnight but that was only in body, in spirit I was still balanced precariously on a bean bag sipping a cocktail at the Rock and Roll Bar overlooking the bay.
Skiathos was a place I really fell in love with for its scenery, its people and the overall vibe of the place. It had a certain je ne sais quoi (probably sounds much cooler in Greek). Most importantly it was the break I needed to separate me from the events leading up to and the manner in which I left my job. Skiathos was the perfect break from the mundane realities of life.
But no holiday lasts forever, and though it was tinged with sadness, I had to fly back to normality.
In the last two weeks, amongst other things, I’ve started the enjoyable task of going through my accumulated poems and stories to decide what should be included in my forthcoming e-book collection. At the moment it is a longlist but once I hopefully whittle it down to a shortlist I will be able to discern the shape (crisp smooth lines or gelatinous blob) of the overall collection.
That process of deciding what goes in and what doesn’t has led me to a decision. The collection should be poetry only, my admittedly low-level moans to myself that I am not a poet and it’s just a phase came to naught. Poetry only will just give it a better shape.
On the plus side though it means the next collection will be fiction only. So, once one project is finished, in the back of my mind another one is starting to be formulated.
Then there is the matter of employment – something that pays. Obviously once my two books are published I will be a millionaire or maybe even a trillionaire! But what if that doesn’t happen, what if all I get out of these collections is the joy of writing them – joy alone isn’t going to pay for my ticket back to Skiathos.
I do have a plan for what I want to do with my future and it requires some form of alchemy to take place and no decades of reading fantasy books haven’t finally warped my mind into believing I’m a wizard. By alchemy I mean whatever time and effort I put in to my job is rewarded tenfold emotionally. Yes I want payment but I want (NO I NEED) to derive satisfaction from what I do.
Yes I realise that all jobs have their downsides. The average person spends a great deal of their lives working and the daily grind is always a compromise, I’m sorry kids even after you leave school life is still going to be about deadlines, hard work and stress. Even being a clown is stressful.
photo credit: Ringling Circus clown Emmett Kelly: Sarasota, Florida via photopin (license)
However, the reward for all of that stress should not be limited to a week away on a Greek Island. Fifty-one weeks versus one week? That is not a balanced life.
So while I’m trying to create a more balanced life, if anyone has got any lead going spare, I’d like to try a little alchemy.
© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
