Spreading Ripples in Memory of Doctor Costello

I’m not a person who cries.  I never have been particularly, being able to count on one hand - no, one finger - the number of films that I’ve cried at.  But then neither am I a person prone to shows of emotion, being a sulker more than an angry person and a cautious individual when it comes to showing what I really feel about things.  Despite my hard as nails approach, though, this week has thrown up a very emotional situation.  The small harbour town of Home, and in fact the whole of Caithness has spent the last few days in a state of mild shock.  Part of the beauty of living in such a close knit area is that community still carries its old-fashioned meaning.  Tuesday night saw the dramatic and sudden death of a much respected member of the community, local teacher Doctor Kevin Costello.  I never met him, but he touched the lives of so many people, my family included, that I felt I knew him.

It is not my intention to write an entire blog on the passing of Doctor Costello, but his tragic demise illustrated one very real thing to me.  And it was this: One person may touch the life of a hundred people, but if each of them share it with a hundred more, as quickly as ripples on a lake that single person has impacted on the lives of 100,000 people.  Way back in June when I first began writing these blogs, I spoke about the importance of smiling and how much sunshine that simple gesture could give, and I still maintain that it is the most positive way to share something with the world.

As I am certain most of my readers will know, I come from a family of writers and artists.  One of my sisters runs an online publishing enterprise, another is busy putting her hard work onto the big screen to add an extra page to the history of her hero Charles Edward Stewart, another is poring over her new contract with an American publishing house, whilst the youngest is spending all her free time at the moment constructing her own world and cultures for her book.  A mention must also be made for my Mum who is a poet without compare - and here I will spare no apology for saying that I would sooner use a page of Carol Ann Duffy’s poetry to mop up spilled tea than to read it - and for my brother who, along with my Mum, writes the most amazing prose on observations of the natural world…

…Having finished that shameless plug for my family (of whom, I am excessively proud!), I’ll get to the point I wanted to make.  Not one of us writes for the money - in fact there is little money to make in much of the writing world now - each one of us writes for two reasons:

1) Entirely selfishly, it is something we all love to do.

2) We have a strong desire to bring enjoyment and pleasure to other people through our writings.

It matters to all of us that our work spreads those ripples across the face of the water, and touch the hearts and minds of the people who read our work.

The harsh reality of this world, as the premature death of Dr Costello proved, is that not one of us can know how long we will be here for.  It’s frightens me from time to time, but if I share with the world all the good that I have day by day, offer smiles to strangers on the street and support for those that need it, then my deeds will hopefully spread like ripples and eventually my kindness will touch the lives of hundreds of people.  It isn’t always easy, it must be said.  In town I come across plenty of people I have to remind myself to smile at, but it’s worth it in the end.

I think it should be the hope of every person on the planet to send out as many ripples of happiness across the water of the world as we can.  Doctor Costello may not have been known to many of you, but through me, I hope I am able to pass on the ripples of appreciation to you all and continue the kindness and goodness he started.  After all, isn’t that what we aim to do with memorial events?

So today offer a smile to someone, share a nicety or two, and do it in the memory of Doctor Costello who you probably never knew, but who’s ripples deserve to continue spreading even in his absence.

The Most Individual Individual, Nostalgia and Definition of Self

When I was leaving school, way back in the dark recesses of time, we were each given a yearbook.  It wasn’t one of those fancy shiny ones like my little sister got this year as she prepares to embark on the journey through university, but it is something that I have still kept and occasionally (when I’m having a massive overhaul of my hoarded goods!) it gets flicked through.  Simultaneously to the yearbook being formed we were voted certain ranks or character statements by our peers, things like “the next president” or “most likely to be eaten by a shark”.  I was very pleased with mine, and it is something that, as time goes on, I value more and more.  I was named “the most individual individual”.

I’ve never been one who saw the attraction of crowds, either to follow or be a part of.  I really am my own person.  With all the riots across the English cities people have been heard to say: “Well, X, Y and Z were doing it, so A, B and C thought they could join in.”  No individuality there.  In fact the whole thing stank of a mindlessness, like a group of lemmings swarming without any concept of control or reason.

[In fact, one reason for the lack of blogs has been because I did not want to commence a rant about the riots.  So I‘ll try and leave that there!]

It has been an eye-opener for all parties to see how even in this “civilised” age we still show all the signs of being pack animals.  Peer pressure can drive forward - or in this case: pull back - so many things, and in many respects it is still one of the biggest causes of division, fuelling those horrible -ist words, like ageist, sexist, racist etc

I’m glad I broke the mould.  I’m glad I stepped away from the rest and said that I did not want to do what everybody else did just because it is what everybody else did!  Today, I spent a fantastic dinner at the house of some of my friends.  It meant so much to me, firstly that they’d want to spend time with me, but secondly because if I had gone along with the rest of the crowd I would certainly not be doing what I am doing now.  And I love my job…  Have I mentioned that before?!  When I was little I had a million ideas of what I was going to be when I grew up - who doesn’t? - but never once did I think I would be where I am now and doing the job I now do.

Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?  I’ve just finished reading Philip Glenister’s “Things Ain’t What They Used To Be” (which is a brilliant book that I couldn’t put down without it having to be physically prised from my grip) and I can’t help but wonder, when he was talking about all these things that he did in his youth whether he ever thought he’d end up the massive cultural icon he is now.  I think somewhere along the way (way, way back when I was very small), I decided that making plans did not work.  It was fine to have ambition - admirable, even - but it was only by being my own person, an individual individual, that I would really find out what I should be doing in this world.

And what makes us individual?  That’s easy, it is how individuals view us.  I am not defined by how I view myself, nor by how I endeavour to portray myself.  Ultimately, I am defined by how other people relate to me.  Example: I am a teacher not because I qualified as one (although I did!) but because pupils come to me for lessons.  I am a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a teacher and a friend, amongst other things.  And it is only through you all, and your continued relating to me that I remain an individual individual, a title I hope never to give up!

A Script, A Star and A Sincere Thank You

It’s good to be back.

I’m not a very superstitious person, but I have to admit to being a little intrigued at the way, when I was due to post Blog 13, Arty (my trusty laptop) decided that I should no longer be allowed to access the internet.  I can only assume that if you are reading this I have won the battle of wills and - having restored factory settings - am now fully internet connected.

What a lot has happened since I last posted to you all!  Weeks have passed and we are now into August, both the peak of summer and the onset of its end.  Our holiday is looming large, and I’m looking forward to it immensely.  It is not so much that I need a break from work, I love my job, but that I am looking forward to a week of not having to keep times.

But one very good thing has come from the absence of internet on my laptop and that has been the prolific writing that I have sat up doing into the small hours.  For the first time ever I’m trying my hand at script writing, and thus far have achieved 31 pages.  I’m dubious about it all - I’m not sure that script writing is the sort of thing I should branch out into - but, as is so often the case, inspiration appeared and what ungrateful soul would refuse it.

My inspiration came in the form of a truly gifted actor, who inspired me to put pen to paper (or in this modern age: keypad to monitor), but it got me thinking about a few things.  Whilst, without doubt, in my head I can see no one but this individual portraying a character in my script, the real inspiration was not so much him as those people who the roles are based on.  So often people touch our lives without them even knowing it, and sometimes without us knowing it until days, weeks, months, even years later.  First impressions really are lasting, for in most circumstances they are the only impressions we get to make.  I hope that when I walk down the street - on the very rare occasions that I do walk down the street - the impression I give is true to the person I am.

Some many people endeavour to put across a certain image, often one that people would accept, perhaps to fit into the horrible bracket of normal.  All that really matters is that you are yourself, the best version of yourself.  I often wonder what people do see when I walk past them.  A smiling moron?  A determined walker?  One thing is certain, I always try to leave a positive impact on people.

To those people who have touched my life, I want to thank you.  I know most of you will never read this blog, but I guarantee that those of you who do read it are worthy of my thanks.  You are, in truth, my inspiration.  Some of you have driven me to create characters in your honour, people I do not even know, just your characteristics that have shown me that no two people are ever entirely alike and yet all are uniquely fascinating.  I only hope I have done you justice in my writings…

…Watch this space!

And as for superstition - lucky Number 13!  What can be better than a chance to say thank you to you all!