Time is a word.........but what IS IT really?

A long time ago when time was mere numbers on

a something, now, ''time'' for me is not only numbers on

a something or for a something,

 but also a something that is making it

abundantly clear to me that time is 

not a matter, a something, an ''it''.

Although, what ''it'' is, time is a word/term

that we have come up with in order to

make life slightly more ordered and 

 predictable methinks.

Once we figured out how to measure

time with clocks, then eventually

as our cultures kept progressing,

clock time more and more became the

central societal hub around which

mankind has organized itself.

Time is a construct, something mankind has

invented so say those in the know.

It is the measurement of a progression of

events(something?)moving from then

through now to a new then, methinks.

Time, the actual sense of it

happening/taking place is not something 

we can feel, see, taste or touch.

Time perception is a subjective experience

and how we sense or experience it depends

on our individual understanding of it.

When we are having fun, we often say 

words to the effect of ''time flies when

you're having fun.''

But when we are worried about a child

not coming home on time or a spouse

not answering his/her/their phone

late at night, my personal experience

is that it feels like time is exponentially

slowing down.

Emotional states bend our perception

of time by altering our bodily

signals such as hunger, pain,

heart rate and anxiousness.

Clocks measure uniform time.

Us, not so much.

We experience time subjectively

and flowingly rather than

uniformly.

We are malleable creatures.

Actually, we are malleable and emotional

creatures which means that though

we may hope to be level headed

and rational beings most of

the time, a lot of the time

we lose track of time due

to the fact that we are

thinking, feeling and

caring human

beings.

(You may disagree with some of the stuff

I've written here, so please remember that 

these are just my musings although

always supported by a lot of research first.)

about the image: acrylic on small-ish canvas.

Title: The Boy with the Golden Heart.

(aka. my son)

I've written a number of songs inspired

by my son. If you would like to

listen click on this:

This track is called ''For my Son''

Just walk away, they say.................easier said than done

                                                                               

Just walk away, they say.

Don't stay, they say.

Why don't you just leave, they say.

It takes two to Tango, so if you stay

though you know you should leave,

then you're culpable, so they say.

Only a fool would stay, they say.

Don't be an idiot, walk away, they say.

Who are ''they'' who say these things?

There's a line in a Craig David song

that at the time when the song

 ''I'm walking away'' was in the charts

really stuck with me.

''I'm walking away from the troubles in

my life,

I'm walking away to find a better day.''

At that time I was working in a not only

very badly paid but also bad for me job.

I was lifting far too much heavy stuff

and the treatment by most of my co-

workers there was shocking.

Every day for over three years I tried to

find a way to walk away.

When the doctor told me that I had to 

leave or I would have to be carried away

on a stretcher, I finally walked away.

So, here's the thing in my view.

Walking away is only step 1.

There are so many more steps to come after

 the first one.

If there is danger and children involved

 in not walking away, as with domestic 

abuse situations, a lot of planning and

money is often needed in order to leave.

So before Step 1. there is usually a bunch 

of other steps to be taken.

In my experience for most of us there

is no such thing as ''just''.

(I have ''walked away'' so many times that

I don't actually want to remember exactly

how many any more.)

Walking away is often a very costly affair;

emotionally, physically, monetary, loss of

friends, relatives, jobs, etc. etc. etc.

especially if children are involved.

One of the worst days in my life (so far) was 

sitting alone in court with sweaty hands

holding on to my divorce papers 

while I could hardly breathe from fear

that my heart was going to just stop.

There was no just walking away from

15 years of marrige and a teenage son

no matter the dysfunction of the relationship.

There are millions of people on this globe

that would love to be able to just walk away

from the situations they are currently experiencing.

Some try to walk away only to be faced

with ''walls'' of bias, prejudice, hard-headedness,

intolerance, -isms of different varieties, etc. etc. etc.

Some try and are met with guns and hostility.

Fences are erected, walls are built, angry people

all dressed up and wearing face masks blocks

the entrance from anyone trying to walk away.

Bombs of a myriad of varieties are dropped

on people from even attempting to ''walk away''.

In an era that views itself as technologically

well versed, savvy even, may I ask what 

makes us think we're so smart when we

are excited about creating a machine that eventually

is going to get rid of us because in an era

of machines only, there will be no need for

biological creatures that can be rid of by 

a mere nasty subatomic particle.

Some people make fun and belittle others

who are sincerely trying; ''walking away to

find a better day'' to overcome addictions,

become better parents, find help to become

better humans, to overcome dangerous and destructive

behaviours, etc. etc. etc. or as the particularly obnoxious

person may say; become all kumbaya.

Kumbaya actually means something worthwhile;

peace, unity and togetherness.

However, more often than not it is used sarcastically

as a meme for naiveté, and for the purpose of creating

political and social discourse.

Elon Musk said; ''that the fundamental weakness

of Western civilization is empathy.''

Since then (2025), he has modified that;

Empathy is okay as long as it is

rationally thought through.

I disagree with him. I view empathy as one

of mankind's most valuable attributes.

''Empathy is choosing to see ourselves in another

despite our differences.

It is recognizing that the same humanity - the

same desire for meaning, fulfilment and security

- exists in each of us, even if it's expressed

uniquely.''

(Vivek Murthy)

about the image: white charcoal on black cardboard

Sometimes a gentle touch speaks volumes................................

The phone rang.

 Herbie Hancock, barely out of music school,

answered.

-Hello?

-It's Miles, a husky and soft voice answered.

Herbie laughed and said: -Yeah, man, sure you are!

-You're the young piano player that's been

gigging around, yeah?

-Well, yeah. You're really Miles? Miles Davis?

-I like your touch man. Can you make

rehearsal tomorrow? I've got some new stuff

I wanna try out. 

Herbie made a mental note of where and when

but before he could thank Miles for asking him

to join the band, Miles had hang up.

As in a daze Herbie put the receiver back

in its cradle.

''You have a nice touch'' Miles had said 

and repeating those words to himself

he could feel himself 

smiling all the way from deep inside

to the outside of his being.

(This is just my interpretation of a story I've been told.)

Strangely as it may perhaps seem, touch is a very

important and highly individual aspect of being

a professional pianist.

Touch, come to think of it, I have come to realize

as discussions and news about AI pops up

here, there and everywhere may perhaps be

 fundamentally more important for us humans than 

we have given it credit for.

Touch, those in the know say is of vital importance

to us and belong among those of our most basic

needs. But as we seem determined to rush ''headless''

once again(atom bomb) towards a technology

that could potentially end up exterminating us, (rogue AI)

........ it may behoove us to just spend a little more time

 donning our black thinking caps/hats (= potentially negative

 outcomes) just in case our excitement of how

brilliant and technologically ingenious we are

manages to blind us.

In 1965, Harlow's Monkey Experiments strongly

suggested that touch is a primal need that applies

to both humans and monkeys.

Experiments/research have also been carried out that

show that the absence of touch more often than not 

lead to poor physical as well as mental health.

(Unless a person suffers with an illness which

includes touching as problematic.)

Touch comes in different ''flavours'' methinks.

For instance: a touch can be light, heavy, warm,

cold, on purpose, accidental, nice, creepy,

loving, bullying, etc. etc. etc.

People who grow up in environments in which

touching of any kind is not encouraged or done, 

may I suggest often tend to find touching or being

touched by others uncomfortable at times.

And vice versa....some of us are happy to

hug and touch others, to high fiving and 

bump fists.

Science says that touching(the nice kind)

 regulates our nervous systems,

brings down our stress levels and helps us

to build/form/create deep and meaningful 

emotional connections.

Basically, perhaps one may say that though

words are very important for us in order to be able

to connect and create social bonds with each other,

so are physical actions such as handshakes,

high fives and sincere hugs.

We may even become so pre-occupied with

words that we underestimate just how

necessary and comforting a light touch

on a shoulder or hand can be for

someone who may need a little sign

of validation and appreciation.

How we touch each other physically

is in my view a fundamental choice

anchored in personal boundaries, respect,

consent and mindfulness of the other person's

cultural aspects/traditions. 

''Sometimes a gentle touch

speaks volumes.''

(Citizen Z)

''After all, touch is the first language

we speak.''

(Stephen Gaskin)

about the image: ink on paper

What I feel is sadness but what I do is pretend that all is okay...............

What I want to do is scream,

but I don't.

What I want to do is cry,

but I don't.

What I want to do is run away,

but I don't.

What I want to do is tell you

how much your words hurt me,

but I don't.

What I feel is sadness,

but what I do

is pretend that all is okay.

What I feel is anger,

but what I do

is pretend that I'm okay.

What I feel is confusion,

but what I do 

is pretend that that's okay.

Why is it that to be openly sad

 is by others so often deemed ''bad''?

Why are we often judged as being ''weak''

when of our pain we openly speak?

Why are we told to subdue our cries

when hurt brings tears to our eyes?

(Citizen Z)

For a number of days I have had severe pain

in my neck and shoulders. Mind you, I always

have pain there(bursitis) but for some reason that I'm 

oblivious of, it has now reached new heights.(levels)

I have methods of dealing with it, but none so far

has worked. 

What's needed is a remedial massage. 

By the time I'm sitting in a chair at the massage

 place, the pain has spread and is now pounding

away in my lower and upper jaw bones.

I'm feeling quite nauseous but is lucky enough 

to be fitted in for a treatment immediately.

A designated massage therapist arrives and softly 

asks me how much pressure I want her to use.

''A lot,'' I answer.  It hurts like heck but I know 

that it will get better and eventually the pain 

will subside. Which it does.

Walking to the car, some thoughts wafts through

my consciousness; -I just don't get all the excitement

over AIs. We are flawed, this is true, but science

proved a long time ago that being touched by other

human beings is paramount for our very existence.

Thank goodness for human massage therapists.

''There are five traits that AI genuinely can not

replicate: empathy, presence, judgement, 

creativity and hope.''

(Shorts on AI limitations)

about the image: pen and ink on water colour paper

Not only people can be good listeners..........................

''I think I'm gonna take the dog for a walk"

She took a deep breath.

Although the door was closed, she could

her them arguing. Again. Always about

the same stuff......... money and who was

to be blamed for not bringing in enough.

Should she really go inside and by doing

so having to deal with the chaos?

Just as she had decided to turn around

and walk away, the door flung open

and her dad rushed past her.

Screaming at the top of his lungs:

-Yeah, blame me, it's always my fault!

and off he went in their tired old car

leaving a trail of black, foul smelling

smoke behind.

As she dropped her school bag on the

floor and sat down to untie her boots,

her mother yelled: -Lisa? Is that you?

Come to the kitchen and help me

peel the potatoes and also, check that

your brother is okay. 

As she walked to her bedroom to

get changed out of her uniform,

she could see her brother sitting on

the floor in the living room and

playing some computer game.

Changed into a pair of jeans and her

favorite hoodie, she walked into the

kitchen and sat down at the table.

She didn't feel much like talking, besides, 

what was the point, her mum didn't

listen anyway. All she wanted to do

was to complain about her dad. 

Armed with their potato peeler

she grabbed a large potato and

quietly started to peel it.

-What's wrong with you Lisa? Why are 

you so quiet? asked her mother.

Though tempted to tell her mum 

about the incident that she had 

experienced earlier that day, she

knew it was futile. With the radio on,

the noises from the game her brother

was playing and her mum's complaining,

there just wasn't any space for her to inject 

any of her thoughts or experiences.

-Nothing's wrong mum, she said and kept

peeling.

-Okay then. Listen, when you've finished

the peeling go out and get the clothes

off the line. I think it's gonna rain.

Lisa confirmed the request by nodding.

A few minutes later she grabbed the washing

basket and walked out the back door

to the washing line.

As she put the basket on the ground,

Snoopy, their always effervescent little

mutt came darting as out of nowhere

and ran circles around her.

-Hey, Snoopy, having a good day today?

she said and lifted him off the ground

and into her arms.

Snoopy answered by licking her face

and looking her straight in the eyes.

As he kept licking her and looking deep

in to her eyes, she started to ponder

if perhaps he could be a good listener.

Maybe she could tell him about the

incident?

She brought in the washing basket

and put it on the floor in the living room

next to her mother's ironing board.

-Set the table please, Lisa, her mother

bellowed from the kitchen.

-For how many? Lisa asked.

-Three, your father has gone out.

She wanted to ask her mum where

her dad went when he went ''out'' but

she knew that that would lead to all sorts

of trouble and she had already had enough

of that.

The three of them ate their food

with a minimum of words being

exchanged.

Nor was there much talking when they

cleared the table or did the dishes.

Her brother went back to his game,

her mother started to do the ironing

and Lisa decided to take Snoopy

for a walk.

She put Snoopy on a leash, herself

in a jacket and then called out to

her mum: -I think I'm gonna take

the dog for a walk.

-Okay, Lisa.

-Let's take the nice walk through the

woods, Snoopy, she said as they started

to walk.

When they reached the start of the woods

she undid Snoopy's leash and let him go.

Snoopy excitedly ran in circles, sniffed

everything in his way and just oozed joy.

Watching her dog's joy was infectious

and Lisa felt herself catching the 

''infection''.

In the middle of the woods somebody

had placed a sort of wooden bench.

She decided to sit down for a moment

and just enjoy the stillness, the fragrances,

the beauty of the light making its way through

the trees but especially, to enjoy the company of

 her very faithful and joyful companion; Snoopy.

After running back and forth, here and

there, Snoopy suddenly stopped and

jumped up on the bench next to her

and put his head in her lap.

Stroking Snoopy gently on his head

she decided to tell him about the incident.

She had been right. 

He was a very good listener.

''No one appreciates the very special genius

of your conversation as the dog does.''

(Christopher Morley)

about the image: acrylic on large landscape

shaped canvas

Shy? Nah, just a quiet person...........

I love snow. 

I love how a good cover of snow 

 can transform things ugly and unsightly

 into things all glittery, twinkly and shiny.

I love how snow dampens and softens

sharp, screechy and jarring sounds.

I love the fact that each snowflake 

 is a piece of art and utterly unique.

Of this I am reminded every year when

summer comes around here in OZ(Australia).

Summer, when the heat is suffocating and sweat

pours from virtually every orifice on my

body. 

Long nights twisting and turning in my bed 

in my un-air-conditioned bedroom, searching

my memory ''files'' for images of snow 

clad landscapes with ice covered lakes

to cool my mind, my body and my temper.

Since it is never going to snow here where

I am, I comfort myself by creating

my own snow covered landscapes.

Although it is years since I skied down a mountain

or skated across a mirror glazed lake, I miss snow.

Especially the ''soundscape'' that it creates when it 

drapes nature in its shiny new coat.

*

For me, life is about ''commas and 

question marks'' rather than ''answers and full stops''.

Commas and question marks keeps possibilities,

probabilities and plausibility's feasible.

Hence, I'm never without a question about 

something.

Here is one: Is silently and quietly the same thing?

Sort of? A bit? Yes? No?

 I have heard/read of people being described as ''quiet

kind of people'' or ''he/she/they go about their life

in a quiet way'' or ''he/she/they live quietly.''

Can the same be said using the word silently?

Embracing the fact that words are often ambiguous

what do we mean with the word ''silently''?

Quietly, to my way of thinking includes a level of sound.

We can act quietly and we can whisper, speak, cry,

laugh, sneeze, etc. etc. etc. quietly.

We can not do those things silently.

Silently, is the word we use when we talk about

an absence of sound.

Some of us may be predominately extroverted

in nature and enjoy lively conversations

with people, friends and acquaintances.

For us, interacting and communicating/talking

feels comfortable and exciting, it energizes

us (one may say).

Some of us may be predominately introverted

in nature and enjoy times of solitude and

introspection.

For us, silence and or quietude is something

we seek at times because it energizes us.

As we learn more and more about ourselves,

what once may have been ''full stops'' may now

have opened and become ''commas''.

If a person view themselves as a ''quiet'' sort of 

a person, it may mean that they/he/she view themselves

as ''deep and probing'' processing persons rather

 than empty, passive or anti-social ones.

''Quiet people have the loudest minds,''

says Stephen Hawking.

A societal norm found in many different countries is

that quiet people challenge the social

expectations of an extroverted culture which

views talking with confidence and chutzpah

as the ''right'' way to be.

''There is zero correlation between being the best

''talker'' and having the best ideas.''

(Susan Cain)

(Although, in my view, society seems to often equate 

visibility and loudness with ability and

capability, it often has a tendency to backfire.)

Apparently, according to those in the know......

some of us feel intimidated by ''quiet people''

because we don't know what the quiet person is

thinking and that creates uncertainty in us.

Just in case you are wondering if there is a difference 

between being quiet and shy, the answer 

according to those in the know is Yes.

As I understand it,

being shy(shyness) is an emotional response,

a fear of being ridiculed or rejected by

others when we speak our mind. (A sub conscious choice)

Quietly pondering what to say for a minute or two before

speaking, can be viewed as a mentally conscious choice.

It's been said that:

By saying nothing even a fool may seem wise.

Many of us live such hectic lives surrounded by noise

and numerous distractions that quietness, stillness

and silence can be experienced as uncomfortable.

But sometimes, we may really need to seek some quietude.

Quietude is putting oneself in a state of inner

calmness and stillness, and for a moment ignoring 

 external noise and our physical wants and desires.

How do we start?

We stop talking and embrace the silence.

about the images: top: Acrylic on large canvas

middle: Acrylic on large canvas

Bottom: acrylic and pastels on mid sized canvas

Control is an illusion

Ensconced in his father's embrace the little

boy feels safe. Although having endured trials,

 tribulations, visions of despair and

devastation far beyond his understanding,

his trust in his father's strength and ability

to protect him, is... absolute.

*

Certainty of what's going to happen next;

second, minute, hour, week, etc. etc. etc.

is according to ''those in the know'' a very,

if not THE most powerful psychological and

social drive for us humans.

We are pattern seeking creatures/beings with minds

/brains that are able to quickly identify patterns and then

sort them in to categories as in for example: 

unsafe, safe, dangerous, unstable, poisonous,

etc. or good for eating, good for sheltering under,

good for making friends with and so on.

Scrambling for a sense of certainty in life

is something that is ''inbuilt/inherent'' in us 

so the smart folks say.

However, judging from personal experience and research

on the subject, always needing certainty can be risky.

I use the word ''risky'' because needing certainty can

easily digress into needing control.

In psychology seeking to have control is a ''form

of anxiety''. 

We can plan ahead, we can make maps(mental 

and geographical), we can load up on all the information

we think we may need to know, but........we

cannot prevent things from going wrong, fall

apart, crack etc...........

Unexpected things have a tendency to show up

regardless of how much we may prepare ourselves.

Teenagers are fabulous at teaching us that as

parents we need to let go of believing that we

control them. Waiting for my child to come home

from going to parties, duffs or festivals was

a seven different hells experience.

I had to learn that negotiation and not law

and order kept our relationship healthy.

I have experienced myself how anxiety can

get out of hand and how scrambling for control

rather than down-playing any uncertainty can

make a person(me) even more anxious.

Then one day my doctor gave me a book and

told me to read it. I did.

GAD. Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

Basically, one is anxious about everything.

This anxiousness often tend to tempt us

to try to control what or who-ever makes us anxious.

The problem with trying to control people

and things is that that bases my(your?) well-being

on factors that are outside of me(you).

This doesn't work.

Shift to what may work.

A. Focus on my (your) own strengths and

competencies.

       B.  I(you) am the owner of my(your) life and 

my(your) emotions. Take charge.

''Releasing the illusion of control

can quiet an anxious mind.''

(Dr. Rick Hansen)

about the image: Acrylic on large canvas +

some editing in Elements

*

(People have asked me what kind of music I

play, so I will give you a few options to

check out. All music, lyrics and arrangements

are composed by me.)