Mindfulness, Munro bagging and cancer
Chemotherapy poisons not only a body, but the life the body leads, the relationships it forms, the hopes and expectations it engenders, its entire being.
At what precise moment the last cycle of chemotherapy ends and the rest of my life begins is still not clear. Continue reading “Cycle six and the rest of my life”
The “argument” that there is any similarity between Scotland in the UK and the UK in the EU is here thoroughly blown out of the water. Thanks to the Wee Ginger Dug.
On Saturday night, I had the misfortune to watch the press review on Sky News. One of the guests was a Brexit supporting writer, a woman whose name escapes me, which is a pity because it means that it will be harder to avoid her nonsense in future. It was the usual ill informed guff […]
Does anyone else entertain niggling doubts about their own mental state as they listen to the increasingly brazen lies and the ever more fantastical claims? Do you, betimes, catch yourself thinking, is it me?
Why is there such a need to defend this system of land management with such ignorance and stupidity? Why the desperation to maintain this denuded, denatured topography, while presenting it as the outcome of responsible husbandry, sensible economy and dutiful custodianship of the land?
Even under the influence of testosterone suppressing medication, the disappearance of two satellite tagged eagles within a few hours of each other at the same location snaps my twig, and briefly I get the urge to hurt somebody or damage stuff. Thankfully I am aware of this, but there is evidently something quite visceral, yet cold and calculating about the reactions I observe in myself. Apart from the sheer rage associated with cruelty and killing animals for fun, there is more a general fury penetrating deep into the bit of me that identifies as Scottish. Even without the natural motivation of hormones, I want to act now, decisively, to bring an end to this wickedness, see the perpetrators punished severely.
