THE BEST POLICY

“When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong”. Yes, I’m quoting Baby’s dad from Dirty Dancing. Be that as it may, this is a perfect phrase for me, because it encapsulates exactly the way I see the world. I’m a pretty upfront person. If I like your dress, I’ll let you know. If you’re a bit of an arse, and you ask me how I feel about you – I’ll let you know that you’re a bit of an arse. And I welcome the very same responses. I genuinely feel that honesty is the way forward, to a beautiful and sweet smelling world. Call me green, but that’s just the way I feel.

It’s ambiguity and misconception and lies and pretence that encourage a frown on your friendly pensivebuddha’s face. I can’t stand it when there are a number of hurdles and barriers to the truth of a situation. But don’t get me wrong – I can handle the grand facade of the world and it’s actors. I’m not so naive that I can’t navigate through the BS. I’m just highlighting the fact that I’d get much fewer wrinkles if we could all just dispense of it. *waste of time*

All I’m saying...

WHEN I GROW UP...

So on the last day of work before Christmas, I was granted freedom at 2.30pm, so my work peoples and I obviously went straight to the local pub. And what fun was had! You see, I love getting to know a person beyond the up-front description that they are assigned: work colleague, lecturer, post-man, neighbour, priest... I love filling in the blanks that reside behind the mask and script that we play day-to-day.

And the great topic we stumbled upon was the wonderfully child-like ‘when I grow up, I want to be...’. Now, I remind you that this was my work colleagues, so you can safely assume that all who were involved already had a good, secure and profitable career. But there’s always the plan B. Always the dream that some part of us continues to hold on to.

If you won the lottery, what ‘career’ would you then devote your time to? If you didn’t need to worry about bills and rent and f-ing Oyster cards, what would your business card say? But then again, we only get the one chance at this whole ‘Life’ thing. No second chance, no plan B. So maybe we ought to give it a shot now, eh? Maybe the pains and strife might be worth it for some ounce of true satisfaction. Just maybe. May as well give it a go, right?  ‘You only get one shot...’ after all. And yes, I’m quoting JLS. Sue me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME...

Altogether now: “Happy Birthday pensivebuddha!!” And now that you’ve got that out of the way, it was indeed my birthday on Monday, and I am now a year older – since last year that is.

Birthdays are a funny thing. It’s as though you’re expected to collect and distil together all of the experiences and lessons and trials and victories that you’ve encountered over the past year, and try your best to ingest and digest it all so that you can say that you’re older and wiser.

In actual fact, since my birthday, I feel it’s a lot more accurate to say that I’m 3 days older, rather than a year. I have indeed had a truly amazing year – the kind of year that I wouldn't have dared to hope for, this time in 2010. I’ve learned masses, I’ve grown, I’ve improved. But that definitely occurred on a day to day basis. One step at a time, one mistake at a time, one tear after the next – its the natural progression of things. And it’s the type of pace that suits me. Thinking in terms of years leaves so much room to leave things out, and skim over details and blur the lines between each event – seems a bit messy to me. Day by day – much more manageable. And no need to put a year’s worth of pressure on myself to continue to learn and grow and improve. One day’s worth of pressure – I’d be a limp-arsed female if I couldn’t handle that!

So indeed, I am older. Lets hope it keeps getting better, day by day.

FROM ME TO YOU

So we’re rounding up to that special time of the year. And though I love the concept of Christmas, I’m having mixed feelings. And I think the rub lies mainly in the whole gift thing.

Now don’t get me wrong all you stingy bastards out there who think you’ve found a kindred sister. I love to give gifts. And that’s just it – I’m just a bit bummed about having to set a lowly limit on each present!

So I have 6 brothers and sisters. Add to that my mum, then the two brothers-in-law and the one sister-in-law, and then the baby niece and baby nephew, and new niece/nephew-on-the-way. Oh and don’t forget the boyfriend and the best friend and the chocolate-based-gift for the office. And before I even realised it, there are about one million people that I genuinely want to get an amazing gift for. However, my name is in fact pensivebuddha or Rebecca, and definitely not Rockafella or Trump. So £20 budget per person it is! So you see my point. My generous heart is being beaten to the ground by my withered purse. And I think it’s winning. #badtimes.

IN THE BEGINNING...

My dear readers, your friendly pensivebuddha is an onion. Or at least like an onion. Now, the Shrek fans amongst you will understand that I am alluding to the fact that I have many layers. And one of them concerns some type of spirituality.

Like everything that I concern myself with, I like to be well informed. So in this spirit, I’ve set myself the task of reading the bible (New Testament) from cover to cover. Now find a handkerchief and wipe away the sweat on your brow. Luckily, I found the copy that I was given when I was in primary school (St Francis RC primary school - when Peckham was a lil’ more reasonable.) It was obviously handed out to us as young children because it had simplified English, for our young and feeble brains to understand. Perfect for this pursuit!

Now, rather than feeling spiritually nourished from this reading, I feel vaguely wretched (to use a bit of bible-speak). Is that what’s supposed to happen? Is it like an ointment, where you don’t see the effect till a few days after you start using it? (Note to extremists: please don't attack me for likening the bible to ointment - merely a metaphor.) Well. It’s curious. I feel as though even if the whole ‘God thing’ turns out to be false, then I won’t really be losing anything from trying to be a better person while I grace the earth with my presence. And if it is all kosher, then perhaps I will be rewarded for my efforts, or at least learn some grand truth. So it seems like a win-win to this humble pensivebuddha.

I’ll read on and relay any crazy action scenes or car chases if I come across any. You never know – I’m sure they call it the Good Book for a reason.

NO CREATIVES IN THE LIBRARY

So I just read an article entitled ‘Education kills creativity’. A title chosen, no doubt, for its eye catching nature. Most people have undergone some form of formal education, and many people fancy the idea of creativity. Moreover, it seems a consensus that the two are almost opposite to each other – chalk and cheese, oil and water, a KKK leader and this young fellow.

However. Maybe it’s because I love a lively debate, or because I always find myself rooting for the underdog, or because I genuinely believe this to not be the case, but I’m gonna have to disagree. Most likely it’s a mixture of them all, but I’d like to just put this out there – I’d have a lot more respect for an intelligent creative than a stupid one.

Now, I understand how the two can appear to be polar opposites. One imagines creativity to come from some kind of fiery, burning core within them, and education to reside in dusty books on library shelves, and in the lecture notes of equally dusty lecturers. But the very first idea was born from some combination of things that were learned – ‘taught’ to you from the outside world, received by your senses. To be educated is simply to be taught – to learn. And it only follows that the more that is learned, the greater the pool from which a marvellous, shiny stroke of creative brilliance can emerge.

In short, I don’t think that education kills creativity. I think it feeds it.

HAPPY OLD YEAR!

I think New Years is a bit of a hype, as the youngens might say. I hate the idea of saving up all of the things that you want in life, love and prosperity, and putting them in that ‘resolutions basket’. If you want it, work for it now, is what I’d suggest to the masses.

So in the spirit of trumping 31^st December/1^st January, I decided to reflect on the past year, today! Take that fireworks and balloons and champagne. Wait, I enjoy the champagne aspect of New Years. I take that last one back.

Now, this time last year, I was a withered shell of the shiny and illustrious pensivebuddha that you see today. I was sublimely poor, horribly disheartened with the prospect of any future career, and generally drudging through the trenches of a genuine low point of my 22 years. I can’t impress how very hard those times were - #badtimes was me. And just look at me now! Since then, I’ve got a 6 month adventure around the world, personal growth, and a good job with valuable industry experience under my belt. And that’s to name but a few things that line my waist – yea, I know, ‘under my belt’ is a strange turn of phrase.

So instead of making resolutions, I’ll simply decide to continue to improve the quality of my life. Let’s all join in! No need to count it down.

WHAT'S A SQUIB?

So it seems to me that this is a very important time for people who fancy themselves as intelligent and outspoken. There are articles and tweets and quotes flying around at such speed and frequency that I feel like I ought to dive for cover into the nearest trench.

Now, London just experienced a fairly significant event – a strike by public sector workers that spanned the nation and involved an estimated 2 million people.
Now, I’m being very diligent as I write this to not open any browsers and Wikipedia my life away with facts and knowledge to pawn off as things I already knew, and pretend as though I rock around with an encyclopedia of quotes from David Cameron jostling around in my head. Though he did refer to the action as little more than a ‘damp squib’. Bit harsh I thought – especially since he’s still speaking to and about potential voters. Silly, silly David! Also, who strings words together like ’damp’ and ‘squib’? Mind blowing.

I don’t know all of the nuances of the pension cuts, increases in working hours and future pay, equation. What I do know is that a huge amount of people decided that what was happening was not acceptable, so decided to do something about it. Fair play! If someone slapped me in the neck, and I perceived that to be a bad thing, I’d certainly arrive at some course of reactionary action! Can not argue. It may have inconvenienced others to some extent, but I guess they thought a reduced pension may well inconvenience them at a very inconvenient time.

I’m only writing this because a whole lot of people seem to be producing really extreme and emotional opinions on the matter. Me? I guess I just fancied joining in: down with them all!

And when I say ‘them’, feel free to plug in whichever group or demographic you fancy… I’m a liberal girl after all.