Today I'm thinking about what shifts my dial. What gets me going at the dawn of the day. "Donuts" shouts Simon or Stu, a favourite morning supplement on the Camino to get fat Al finally moving.
"Drink" could also encourage me to speed up a lengthy meeting, moving it to closure in the time it took me to roll a fag. A cheeky device I used to upset those who saw it as their life's work to fillibuster a board meeting. I never knew how aggressive a play it was for some. Apparently I would roll the fag, smell it and be mesmerisingly intoxicated by it to such a degree that the idiot prolonging the meeting would lose their fillibustering skill. I was blissfully unaware I had such power, well, until I was told then I would use it injudiciously whenever I got board with certain idiots. I would frequently stare at them while smelling the roll up as if it was a joint or a cigar. In fact, the relish of those moments suggest to me its why I had to give up work when I stopped smoking. That fun, had had its time.
So what gets me up in the morning is still a moot point. The necessity of others is probably number one. On my own, there's very little that propels me but when walking on company my Camino pals will ensure I'm up and out. If on my own I'm usually last out the albergue with the hopitalero chasing me with his broom, while my washing is languishing on the line.
If we're going to the airport or going for a meal that can usually get me going. The meal isn't the attraction it used to be and drink is likewise a pretty lukewarm activity. I like it once I'm there but as the post treatment weeks have rolled by my habit of saying, "sorry, I'm staying in" has grown more habitual than my alcoholic habit of saying "that's me off to the pub".
It's like losing so many of your fingers, toes and limbs this post treatment phase. On the plus side it doesn't bother me on the slightest. I'll go far further than that, nothing really bothers me. In fact, do I consider it a problem that nothing is shifting my dial? I'm feeling I've got to the end of life, looked back through the window and smiled. Yes that's another box I've ticked and the bucket list is complete.
This could just be a bit of PTSD, the perfect time for me to be approached by some religious zealot. It could on the other hand be a lovely piece of enlightenment. I can see clearly now and so many of the rainbow chasing moments of the past bring me a clarity I've never could see.
I've always been a stoic. It's never something that's troubled me. It's why I accepted so many of the ills without feeling they were mine to fight or defining some misguided idiot like Thatcher or Starmer. Worse still, the queue for raiding the cookie jar is now groaning under the weight as Nigel Farage has finally secured favouritism to become the next prime minister of the UK. He's fought a wonderful campaign learning many a trick from Gerry Adams and the host of terrorist tactical trump titans out there.
"The room would be so much bigger if that elephant left."
I needed a change of discussion and my tiny head always enjoys an abrupt end. I use that expression all the time now if the conversation slips into how you doing.
The truth is the elephant is in the room so until such time as it does leave, we need to factor it into every office move I do again. The last elephant I removed was our short-lived CEO at stocktrade in 2000. I can't remember if it was 1999 Christmas eve or 2000 but it was about 25 year ago.
It was just about the end of Stocktrade as we knew it. The dot-com bubble was bursting and in true style the end was nigh for those involved in the industry's execution only sector. We were more insulated than most by not going for the unsustainable growth opportunities that I fell out with a non-exec called Jervais over. I said 79% year on year for 3 years was good but he thought we were missing the huge growth others were seeing. In 2000 and even 10 years later, the Stocktrade name was still alive.
40 years on since the name was first coined there are people who have worked there their whole working life. That's good enough for me. Many people got their first start and went off and did other things, while many are still there. Job done for me. It was huge, the biggest thing in my life to help it get to where it did between 1994 and when I left. When I left I felt proud but genuinely moved on to care about something and someone else.
It as it should be. Grip it tight, then let it go. Love it while you hold it but left it go and grow.
I've never been articulate. I've been loquacious but rarely have the clarity I hear in others. I'm so envious and try hard when discussing the difference between tiredness and lethargy. I'm very good at discussing the difference between words, just lazy at choosing the right one first up. That's unlikely to change as I challenge cancer not to continue partying in my body. It's just an inevitable consequence of who I am. I love writing songs and playing them. I'm just hopelessluly incapable of playing in time or for more than 2 or 3 bars. I'm not even capable of practicing for more than 10 minutes. This isn't new, this is just me. I'm so stoic about who I am and who I've always been. Lethargic about changing and believing too strongly in staying true to my natural state. That should probably be nascent state, I do believe in development, I just struggle. I'm still in a developmental state. I joked 40,30,20 and 10 years ago about how my education ended in 1972 at the end of primary 4. We left for Maryland outside Washington DC, USA where my Dad was being a less than diplomatic attache. My mum was in her element, he sadly was miles away from his habitat.
I was clearly in the wrong place. The school, Darnestown elementary, was full of lovely people but it wasn't a place you learnt anything. Everything we got our weekly tests on were things I'd already learned. I had to introduce an extra column for the spelling test called normal spelling. The inerence being abnormal was USA spelling. It was like not standing up to pledge allegiance to a flag and a country I was merely visiting. I was 9 but I knew a few things and diplomacy clearly didn't run in the genes.
Camino Can'cerre is like that too. I feel like I spent my whole life providing accomodations or excuses for people's behaviour and now I'm offered the luxury of just acknowledging who are toxic to me and who I thrive with. Christmas with family and pals has been energising. Caitlin, Jackie and I have never been so busy doing next to nothing. From days out on the train to running in the meadows.
I've even managed two trips to Easter Road courtesy of JJ and Murray's old man. What's even better is we won both.
While sitting in Murray's dad seat I thought I'd zoom in on Arnaldo and JJ who sit in the east stand. I think I probably need a better lens.
Especially as tickets were £5 to ensure a sellout 19265 crowd. Fair play to Kilmarnock for selling out their end as well. I say "end" but it was only a 1/4 of the Dunbar road end where Stu used to do his ball boy duties in the 1970's.
So it's of to Meggetland to see in the new year with Keith and Andy. Let's hope 2025 brings us more joy and happiness. More chance to see those opportunities and less distractions down rabbit holes. Fire starters might create distractions, they've always done it, our simple ambition is to accept they exist and concentrate on what we can change.
That's enough to put a smile on my face.
The thought I'll finally get a shave in 2025 also helps.
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