Why am I here?

We all act in our best interest and perceive the consequences of our actions in ways that make living with self bearable. That perception is our ego and all threats to our ego remain unforgivable, until a disproportionate reaction is meted out to the ignorant offender. 

When you pay attention to your choices and its attendant crosses, you become less judgmental of others and more accepting of circumstances. 

People want what is best for them and expect others to see that want as selfless. Those that understand this, withhold judgment, accept it, and work it. Those that do not understand this, label it, get angry, and fight it. Understanding or not understanding is neither good or bad, it just dictates the activation energy required to focus on your direction. 

Here’s a thought. Everything you choose and the crosses they present, hold the answer to one of life’s questions - why am I here? Most times, we want an answer that is an imitation, a replica, something close to what already exists. After all, we cannot be so special as to have a unique why (We are). Our answers become a complicated and sometimes complex puzzle, because we are trying to form familiar shapes with unique pieces. 

Pay attention to your choices and crosses. They hold your why. 

- Osasu Oviawe

Flashing By

Oh hey, I blinked and now it's September.... bloody hell, 3 months til the C word, the first one I will have to spend enforced time with my mother, and my ex, oh great, kill me now. The first one without father and that will be weird but I fully intend to cook dinner for my mum this year and she'll do absolutely nothing, I have decided, she deserves to be spoilt for once, it's up to me to make it happen, and I will, I'm a determined pro in the Christmas lunch stakes.

The guns didn't get valued and I'm a bit suspicious why, the guy that was supposed to do it just gave mum his 'expert' opinion, hmmmmm. I know dad trusted him to be the car mechanic and because of him the car passed the MOT today but a gut feeling doubt is niggling at me that something doesn't smell entirely right with this whole scenario. He reckons dad's best gun is only worth about £250, that doesn't sound right.... I may be wrong as I am no expert but I will research it. If it's indeed a low value item then I may as well keep it for the memories, I have a watch, a hammer and a potential gun as my inheritance and that'll do me, don't want a stake in the house thanks very much, that's mum's.

Had quite a bad hypo tonight, that's 2 severe ones in about 3 weeks, maybe I should consult the diabetic nurse?

Standing Our Ground

My first visit to a solicitor today, lucky me, I've not been arrested or anything... yet, this is all probate related, ah we love that word, it's my mother and myself's fave word right now... not! It looks like we'll be going through it whatever happens as the 'estate' (I use that term loosely) is too large, er, it's just a house, which belongs to my mother, when it's all sorted. I'm going to keep quiet and say nothing about my supposed share of it, I don't want anything from my mother, I'm not sucking at life so I'm perfectly happy to plod on as I am, leaving her to decide her own destiny, for the first time in her life. Apparently it needs adding to the land registry or something, more money, they know how to extract it well it seems.

It's all gobbledygook to me, I'm sure they understand it all, well at least I hope they do! It all needs to be done before any changes so we have to get mum's house valued so we know exactly the prices for fees and suchlike, fun. The guns are being valued tomorrow, so another loose end tied up as we find out the worth of that lot. I'd still like to keep it but I'm resigning myself to the fact I may not be able to, in fact my interest is waning when I think about the £150 and how that could take me on a relaxing holiday to Yorkshire instead.... I'm torn. I'm not money driven at all, the value of the Aya gun wouldn't sway me unless it could cure all our money woes in one hit, then it might, purely as a consequence of father's inability to think things through his only offspring could lose out on keeping it as an important memory, a legacy gone because he thought he was cleverer than he actually was, sad thought really but what can I do? Rock and hard place. Meh, it'll sort itself out in time, I can't drive myself nuts any more over it, I'd be joining the father in the hole if I carried on the way I was, not healthy.

The Lost Days

Oh God, it's Thursday, yep it was the trawl around the supermarket with mother time, fun and games as usual. Woke up and was so befuddled I thought it was Monday instead, all the days are blending into each other still, although we're trying our best to get back to 'normal' it's just not the same, obviously.

As the days pass by I'm finding that now my first thought in the morning isn't of my dear old dead dad, which I'm not sure is good or bad, I feel like it's been way too easy to 'move on' and I should still be in sackcloth and ashes but I think I separated myself from him a long time ago, removed myself from his immediate orbit, I had to so I could survive the utter torment he caused me for the best part of 30 years, how sad is that? It is very true though, when I'm at home it's easy to pretend nothing has changed because I rarely saw him, I couldn't be around him even though I wanted to more than anything, he just hurt me too much and I couldn't allow that to continue, for my own self preservation. I was preparing myself to lose him funnily enough, I just had a feeling it would happen, on my birthday I somehow knew it would be the last one I'd have him and now I'm scared my mum will die of bowel cancer because she won't be tested for it and I could end up an orphan within 18 months or something... I can't afford to bury her too and there's no charities for ex sewing machinists, I've feckin' looked already!!

I suppose thoughts of death are all around me now even though I'm trying to remain more calm and less in a frenzy about getting stuff done. We have the solicitor tomorrow, that'll be fun, I guess we're about to find out what sort of doo doo we're really in with regards to probate, get your cheque book out mother! Jesus, ok... I'm going on record to say I'd like to have kept your best gun dad but because you left us in a world of shit I may need to sell it to pay off the charges which seem to be growing by the day. I'm still trying to sell my Raleigh Talus mountain bike with no nibbles because I won't budge on the already cheap price, even though I'd rather keep it, I'd like the gun decommissioned but probate charges may dictate otherwise and I'll just have to live with it.

Grief wise, has it hit me yet? I don't know, maybe the vague feelings of sadness and regret I have now are as deep as it'll ever get, maybe I'm cold like my mother, maybe I just don't know what to do and how to feel in all this chaos. I wish it hadn't happened like this but we'd never have had the movie ending where everyone hugs and all is forgiven. We've had a letter come from the ICU dept of the hospital saying we can go see them to talk over what happened, I think we will as I think we both deserve answers, however painful that is, maybe that'll set me off again? When they told me dad was going to die I lost it right there and then, the correct reaction to such news, I was devastated those first couple of days but I feel like I've done my crying, but I can't help but feel incredibly guilty about the speed of that process. Here I go again giving myself a hard time, I just can't stop it.

Stone Me

Just had a day of friendship and frolics, it's a nightmare being popular! Spent a couple of hours with my mate 'SG' painting some stones and having a good old chat, was delightful to just get out and do something not related to death for a change. God only knows what I painted as they ended up looking like aliens, I forgot what a ladybird looked like for the love of all things holy! Anyway, it was lovely. And I've just rolled in from the pub after a pint and a half of lovely cold Coors with my other mate 'J' who I know from school, we had a nice chat about pensions and wills, as you do when you're bloody old.

Slept for 12 hours almost last night, tonight I doubt I will as I need time to decompress and wind down for bed and it's already 11pm, ah well. I can make do with 7 hours these days and still function... sort of. I am considerably less stressed since the funeral, I refuse to get excitable about stupid shit now, I cannot do it, I will go insane, therefore... not happening. I need to look after myself so I can look after mum, or else we're both screwed. I like my new relaxed attitude, I wonder how long it'll last?

Getting It Done

Another day, another round of frustrating father related info! The DVLA are insisting mother tax the bloody car again when it changes into her name, despite the money coming from her account last time, and then having to wait for her money to be refunded.... to herself! It's like a carousel, more meaningless and pointless bureaucracy I have to bloody wade through, seriously, someone is going to have to stop me hanging myself on my shoelaces very soon. However, success in the 'getting 3 months bank statements for grant' dept, thank f*ck, can post that tomorrow, sorted out right before I went insane, not a moment too soon! And then we made an appointment to see a solicitor to see about probate on Friday, more hilarity no doubt as we find out just exactly the depth of shit we're in, accurate right down to the centimetre I hope so I know whether I'll need a snorkel.

On the way home I nipped to Asda and stocked up on brown piss, AKA Diet Coke, and finished off my saintly helping others type day by fixing the ex's computer, on a fast track to heaven now me... hope it moves faster than the fast track section in Argos or else I'll still be waiting to enter the pearly gates in the year 3000.

Tomorrow I hope to capture some tranquil peace by painting stones with my pal 'SG' and that will be a welcome distraction from everything for a couple of hours, ahhhhh..... bliss! Then there's talk of another beer guzzling sesh tomorrow night with my old friend from school 'J' who is the only one of them all I can be arsed to speak to these days, 2 pints max of course unless I slip into rampant boozehound mode, which I am prone to from time to time but luckily not often given my past with the drink. So yeah, not dwelling on stuff, not intending to, doing ok I think, hanging on in there.

The Eulogy

I haven't had a lot happen today so as promised vaguely a few posts back here's the full eulogy I gave my dad at his funeral, it's a bit long but hopefully worth a read.
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"First of all, my mother and I would like to thank you all for coming, we really appreciated the cards sent and the offers of support received. Although my father wasn't a great fan of leaving his armchair for gatherings  I'm sure he'd have enjoyed seeing you all here today.

Where to start is a hard one.....after all, I never expected a month or so ago I'd be standing here having to do this...... but If you ask me for one abiding memory that would sum up my dad, it's this old thing

(hold up his hammer)

Many of you that worked with him may recognise it, if I had a pound for every nail he ever hammered in with this we'd all be sitting on a tropical beach somewhere. It got used so much, if you were closer, you may notice that the end has completely worn round. At some point I seem to remember he decided he'd had his money's worth out of it and after a bit of grumbling at how much they'd gone up in price, he bought another, which ended up looking pretty much the same.

I'm keeping this to remind me of how hard he worked outdoors all his life, every day, in all weathers, to make sure I never went without anything, especially the blue and yellow BMX bike I was so desperate for and he bought me around my 10th birthday, which without doubt  made me the happiest kid in the UK. However, I regret to inform that sadly the carpentry gene appears to be missing from my DNA so this'll have to be purely ornamental.

I remember as a child I was his shadow, a real daddy's girl, he was my hero, wherever he was I was 3 steps behind. Particularly on a Saturday, wedged into the cab of his pick up truck like a sardine between him, Sally the dog and his friend Jack getting ready to enjoy an afternoon of pigeon shooting. When other kids were out with their friends I was happiest sitting quietly in hides, in hedges and ditches, playing with spent shotgun cartridges, which I guess gives me the love of the countryside I still have to this day.

Being allowed to shoot the airgun was another treat I realished, even though the old thing probably weighed nearly as much as me and I could barely lift the barrel off the floor! I remember the weekends we spent driving around country lanes together looking for good places for him to shoot, and him teaching me things like what different birds looked like in flight and what crops were growing in each field.

As I got older he taught me to drive over those fields in the summer when they'd been combined, not exactly straight from the handbook of the british school of motoring but I bet I'd make a great rally driver. Then there was all the weekends I got roped in as free labour collecting logs for the fire in the winter, long hot summer days and light nights with the radio blaring out in the truck as I loaded it up, there's so many songs I remember that still catapult me back to those carefree times.

I only ever saw my father scared once in his life, he was chainsawing a tree trunk when an adder slid out and I turned my head to see him charging off down the field at a pace Usain Bolt would have been proud of, it was then I discovered he wasn't a great fan of snakes.

He loved his vegetable garden, and whilst in the hospital he seemed more concerned about why his tomatoes weren't doing so great rather than losing a leg. He was always busy in the garden doing something, and unfortuately one of the hazards of that was if you stood still too long in one place you were likely to get a coat of creosote, I'll never forget the vile smell of that stuff as long as I live.
(he may well have given this a coat - points to coffin)

The very fact I'm standing here at all is somewhat of a marvel in itself I understand, when my parents married and mum expressed a wish for a family he was of the opinion an MGB sports car would be the preferable option, but we can clearly see who had the better persuasion skills out of the two of them. He did get his wish when he retired though and got his MGB, he loved it, and funnily enough that was a 1973 vintage like myself, fate almost.

In some ways my father and I were very alike, in other ways extremely different, and to be honest it didn't always make for plain sailing between us. As you can imagine, if he thought I'd done something daft he let me know about it with his typical frankness and then I'd have to stand there until he'd put me right. People often tell me I look like him (aside and wink- so at least we know it wasn't the milkman mum) and people say I have his mannerisms and slightly "explosive" disposition towards people who attempt to take liberties.

He certainly never suffered fools gladly and often I remember him storming through the back door, blowing off a few expletives whilst enlightening my mother on how he'd told so and so to stick their job where the sun didn't shine. He always seemed to have a plan B though, knew his worth as a tradesman was never out of work for long.

I suppose I could ramble on forever, if we were charging most of you would probably want a refund by now, but I'll wrap it up with a few memories of the last moments we shared together. He asked me if I'd get him a pack of polos when I next came up to see him, I always try to keep my promises so here they are dad.

(hold up polo mints)

His last words to me were "see you later mate"

And I'm sure I will. If I'd have known it would be the last time we spoke I may have thought of something more profound to say, but probably not, neither of us were much for soppy stuff and he's probably up there rolling his eyes at my words today.

But watch out dad, I'm breaking new ground here, here comes my best very sentimental parting shot.... you'll never be gone to me because I see you looking back at me every day in the mirror when I brush my hair, and sometimes when I open my mouth, without warning, I catch myself talking just like you did.

You were many things to many people, but to me you were just dad, and I'll miss you forever"

A Constellation of Quotes for the Innovators

Radical innovation rarely comes from incumbents (Laurent Haug). No candle maker has become a bulb manufacturer, no carriage maker has become a car producer and the post office did not invent the email (Marc Giget).

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward. Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written? Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels? While some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do. (Rob Siltanen).

You must constantly ask yourself these questions: Who am I around? What are they doing to me? What have they got me reading? What have they got me saying? Where do they have me going? What do they have me thinking? And most important, what do they have me becoming? Then ask yourself the big question: Is that OK? Your life does not get better by chance; it gets better by change (Jim Rohn).

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man (George Bernard Shaw).

Never forget that only dead fish swim with the stream (Malcolm Muggeridge).

Till then

Friend: Osasu, why don't you write anymore?
Me: I do.
Friend: Why don't I see it anymore?
Me: I stopped sharing it on Twitter or LinkedIn.
Friend: So where can I read it?
Me: www.zazparelli.blogspot.com
Friend: Please keep it simple. Share on Twitter or LinkedIn.
Me: Why?
Friend: Cos I can't remember the blog name always.
Me: Aha.
Friend: Aha, what?
Me: That is the reason I am working on a new blog, with a memorable name. But while I am working on it, I do not want to be limited in what I write.
Friend: Since when did sharing on LinkedIn limit you?
Me: Since I started explaining why my not sharing on LinkedIn doesn't matter.
Friend: So when will I see the new blog.
Me: When it is almost ready.
Friend: Till then?
Me: Till then.

- Osasu Oviawe

Battle Lines

Blimey, mega intense afternoon/evening trying to sort out 'LS' and her daughter. I thought I grew up in a shouty house, holy shit, mine was a picnic in the park compared to what we had this afternoon. Very emotional, very fraught, very last chance saloon... I don't know if we got anywhere, that remains to be seen but her and the boyfriend are moving out anyway, it can't go on any longer, I fear for 'LS's mental health if this continues, she's going to crack. So, I did my best to referee, and boy it was hard work but I had to do something to resolve the issues, I felt I had to, gut instinct again, I'm learning to trust it more and more as I wander through life.

I remember the life I had 6 weeks ago, when all I was worried about was what graphics card was going in the new computer I was building... it seems like another reality ago that is a distant memory these days, now I have a serious responsibility to care for my mother when before I had only myself to keep in check, I just hope I have the strength reserves to carry the both of us forward. Somehow I found an incredible strength to get through my father's funeral and shock the hell out of everyone who wrote me off with my well written and heartfelt eulogy, where the hell did that come from? I have no freakin' idea!!! I surprised myself too, how I did it I don't know. Whether the grief will sneak up and hit me hard later on, I don't know, but right now it's there but it's not overwhelming, I know I will survive this because I've fought all my life to survive, the main cause of my self loathing has now gone, I'll never be called stupid by my dad again, there's a tremendous amount of relief that comes with that.... and enormous guilt because despite it all I loved him sooooo much.

Is this it, what I'm feeling? I feel ok, I can still laugh and joke with my mates, is that it, can it really be this easy to lose your father? I feel like I should be crying more and feeling sadder, it seems like I'm numb, is it these antidepressants I'm on making me so emotionless? So many damn questions going around in my head. Jesus, what a total f*ck up, back on the phones tomorrow to sort shit out to do with the mess dad left us in, many calls to make so I guess I should go to bed but my head still spins away merrily.... ugh. I want a time machine right now, pop back to a more carefree time, not gonna happen though eh?

Down Time

A day of rest! Done naff all of any note so this will be a thrilling entry won't it? Spent most of the day popping painkillers and talking to 'LS' about life, the universe and pictures of men she's been sent over Plenty Of Fish (dregs of humanity dating website, for the uninformed)

Still have no clue whether to sell dad's gun or have it doctored so it's an ornament, not that I am in the least money motivated but I guess I need to know what it's worth, and have the other two looked at as potential candidates for being melted down into ashtrays, I don't give a hoot about either of those, sorry dad. If I could sell that gun case he has to pay for the main one to be deactivated and still pay money towards the probate I'd be laughing, but my experience of life tells me I could never hope to be that lucky. We'll see next Saturday I guess, I think I may go with the guy taking them just to hear it with my own ears from the gun dealer, I never trust anyone where money is concerned, another lesson life has taught me. Cynical aren't I? Have we met?

So yeah, not much doing.... enjoying a bit of late night peace to decompress and think, but not too much, my brain can't handle the events of the last month in too large a slice. 25th today, a month exactly since dad died, have no idea where that time has gone, flashed by in a whirl, most of it with my ear glued to the phone it seems, and more calls next week, sigh.... I'll get through it slowly, letting myself rest a bit without losing the momentum I need to roll over this hump and carry on. I'd lose the plot if I didn't let myself breathe a bit,  bad enough that I reckon I'll be grey by the time we're done here!

Off out visiting to chair peace talks tomorrow between 'LS' and her daughter, hopefully that'll make an impact on the WW3 they seems to have there on a daily basis, fingers crossed. Plus it'll get me out and stop me overthinking, a dreadful habit of mine I must stop... like biting the skin on my fingers, which I have taken up again this past few weeks, and I was doing so well with it too, ooopsy.

Money Or Memories

I'm in a quandary, sort of, well.... I know what I want but it may not be feasible. I want to keep my dad's Aya shotgun, for sentimental reasons, not sell it like my mother is suggesting for monetary gain. I just did a quick Google and saw one for sale for £19,000, is that a price worth selling my good memories for? Mum wants me to sell them. The fond times I had with my dad when he let me come shooting with him and I sat in the hide quiet as a mouse with Sally our dog, excited so much my dad - my hero, my superman - had let me come along. I want the gun but I have a money problem, I don't have much, and I've just found out that probate could cost me £600 to give my own mother her own house.... I'm confused and upset by it.

If only my dad had left a will, why didn't he? Was this his final act of 'f*ck you' to my mother and myself? Was he really that intent on destroying us both? I stood up in church and told happy stories of what my dad meant to me, which was everything, but they were all before the age of 15 when he suddenly turned on me and the years of torment began. No, it wasn't just him that shot me down, but he was the main perpetrator, I was suicidal at 17, such a young age to be so tormented, he made me think that part of me was so repulsive that I spent years soul searching trying to find it and get rid of it. I asked a few weeks back when my penance would end and then it did, on 25th July, I guess I got the answer to my question eh?

I just love the fact I made all their mouths fall open as I eloquently read my witty and well prepared speech at the funeral, the stupid one came good, in a big way. They all wrote me off and I surprised them all, I feel pretty good about that and I think I should, pride is a pretty unfamiliar emotion to me, it would have meant so much to me to hear my dad say the words "I'm proud of you", nothing would have made me happier in the world in fact, nothing.

I'm a bit worried about these antidepressants and what they're doing to me, I've almost turned into an emotionless robot, it worries me, life has pain and we all have to feel it to be real, I don't want to be numb to everything, scary. I didn't once cry or even think of crying at my own father's funeral, that's wrong isn't it? That I looked at the coffin and it meant nothing to me, he went 4 weeks ago as far as I'm concerned, not Tuesday in that crappy little wooden box, which he probably creosoted as he did everything else.

Otherwise busy still, having a house meeting with 'LS' and her daughter Sunday, try and sort some stuff out. Got a working toilet again - yay! About bloody time I say, it's only been 4 weeks. Been up since 6.45am, need some sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, big time.

The Phoenix

Well, apparently the word on the street is my little funeral speech hit the spot with a lot of people, which is nice and I seem to have achieved what I set out to do.... dispel a lot of myths that have surrounded me all my life, that I'm stupid, that I'm useless, that I'm a waste of good skin, etc etc. Maybe these are things I have only thought of myself, borne of years of being told them over and over but now I feel a sense of pride in myself that I haven't really encountered before...

I really f*cking showed them all what I could do didn't I?

Is it wrong to gloat? Pride is a sin after all, but I haven't felt a lot of that in myself in my life. I feel proud I stood up and was counted when it mattered most, I was the one with the balls to get up in front of a church of people I barely know (apart from my close mates) and give a funny, touching and bittersweet eulogy to a man I loved, and at times hated, in equal measure. What happened to that shy little girl I used to be? I guess I grew up to be a fighter, I had to fight to get through what I did and I never once let it beat me, even when the ex nearly snuffed out the tiny flame I had left, I rose up again and didn't let it stop me. All things considered, I turned into a pretty ok human being with good friends around me who see who I am and like me for it, and that is no coincidence... the moment I said to myself "Hey, you're ok you know" I have had more friends come my way than at any other time in my life, the minute I grew comfortable with myself was the moment I started to shine like I should have done all along. If I'd not been beaten down I could have achieved great things, and I may still do, now I feel that the sky could be the limit for ol' Caroline if she tries, even the vicar agrees! (See email pic, ha!) I will at some point publish the contents of said speech so you all can understand the reference to the hammer and polo mints, honest!

I hope if there is such a thing as the afterlife that father is marginally pleased with the results of my writing, I don't have too many things I really shine at but writing can be one of them, sometimes I'm so on point on this blog I scare myself, sometimes the words just come out right and this entry may be one of them. I spent 20 mins up the graveyard hanging with dear pater and the rest of the distant rellies earlier, not by choice I can assure you, it's all rather a bit grim really, but this pic is kinda poignant I suppose.

Not Quite The Ticket

Well, I woke up and threw up, not the best start to the day to be fair, and I feel pretty shite, can hardly keep my eyes open so this'll be fun blogging won't it! I can't work out if it's food poisoning or what 'LS' had Monday as I'm starting to sweat now and just feel like falling asleep, quick smart. The thing that worries me is mate 'S' ended up in A&E with stomach pains last night and I'm a bit dubious about the whole situation, hope nobody else was affected.

Overall I'm doing well I think, seems like the majority of my crying and shock happened straight away so it's kinda gone, if you see what I mean. I'll do ok without him because he taught me life skills like being able to fight my own battles, get the best deals for things and generally how to be as strong as I can and function in life as a grown up without people taking the piss, not sure why mother never picked those lessons up, but then again she didn't have to cope without him in her own house like I have had to, jumped out of the family nest into the pond of life and I swam, sinking wasn't an option.

Been feeling dead weird tonight, so damn tired it's madness, so much so it panicked mother because I was so incoherent and out of it and she drafted the ex in, thanks a bunch! He always helps doesn't he? Ugh! I had a cool shower and now before it starts again I'm going to bed, pronto!

One more story needs to be told first though, from yesterday, a really touching one.... when I buy my tobacco I more often than not get served by the same lady and we normally exchange some general chit chat and when she asked how I was yesterday I said I'd just come from my dad's funeral and she told her workmate to take over, came out from behind the counter and gave me a big hug, how lovely is that? That made my day, a stranger being so thoughtful... a lovely story to end today's blog on at least, no?

Dust To Dust

Nailed it.... the eulogy that is. Was that ever in doubt? I think not.

I told you I would, watch me go. When I make up my mind to do something I fookin' well do it, and that's it, end of story, especially when mother says I can't, steely determination personified, stubborn as hell and bloody minded like my dear old dad. So yeah.... people seemed to like it, got a lot of compliments, especially his old work mates when I held up the hammer, it raised an audible chuckle and that's what I wanted, no sad shit, just let's all have a laugh about the good times. He wouldn't have wanted us all sat there with the sour puss... nah, he'd have been enjoying seeing all his work buddies, just like they enjoyed meeting up and seeing each other again, a reunion as such, how nice, I'm pleased. Anyway, he left the address, the place where he was born, for the last time about 11.50am in the hearse and yes I took pics, I won't look at them often but it's nice to have a record I suppose. It would have been nice if the bloke had opened the hall at 11am like he said he would, I nearly went mental! And then the undertaker got lost, good start, no? Mate 'S' managed to sob her way through my 'Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep' poem though, had to bounce up, rub her back and push her through it, maybe I should have done that after my eulogy myself? Might have cracked me up though.

I was ok with my mother crying a bit as we sat alone together in the first pew, all on our own. I held her hand for a bit, yes, I found the courage to reach out and I think she appreciated it. I on the other hand was completely in the zone, didn't even get close to shedding a tear, like an emotionless robot I was, I knew I'd have to go on autopilot but man.... surpassed myself there. Glad really, I had so many people to talk to and so many hands to shake that if I were a wreck I couldn't have done it. I threw dad his polos into the hole along with a rose, I never break a promise. Had a bit of diazepam to grease the wheels I won't lie and after 'S', the ex and myself adjourned to the pub I managed to get a bit pissed on 1 and a half pints of beer, oh the shame of my lightweightness! 'SG' came up to join up for a swift half and we had a jolly old time. Only ones that were missing was 'L' who came to the service as he promised me he would, but had to get off before we came up the pub, and 'LS' who wasn't well, it was nice to have a couple of mates there though to raise a glass to dad.

I was a bit disappointed with my flowers for £65, I couldn't hardly see they spelt out 'Dad' and it pissed me off a bit, they could have been done better frankly.... what do y'all reckon? Oh well, shit happens, bugger all I can do about it now. I wrote on the card 'Dad, will miss you more than you'll ever know' and that seemed to sum it up. I did end up catching the next door neighbour's grandson and having a good old chat, 'M' was like my little brother when we were growing up, I wrote about him a while back when he dad got attacked and they didn't know if he was going to live and despite the ridiculous row my dad was having with his parents and grandparents I felt in my gut I had to contact him. That was fantastic and now I have his mobile number and we'll stay closer than we have been I hope as I have been mates with him almost since the moment he was born, you can't get much more early than that for a blossoming friendship. So that was a positive thing out of a crappy day.

I survived in one piece, that was the main thing, now to start the healing, with a day of complete rest for me and deal with the rest of the shit he's left behind again tomorrow.

Ashes To Ashes

Well, tis the eve of the 2nd worst day of my life and all in all I feel.... calmish. Not had a chance to feel much else really as sandwich making and shopping for the sandwich making has taken up most of my day as mother was being her usual trying self, even 'LS' saw it today, what I'm dealing with, the sheer helplessness, not sure if it's real or putting it on to be honest but either way it's driving me up the pole! She's totally cooked too much grub, we'll be eating it for weeks - great!! The best thing was spending time with 'LS' as we really do click in a weird fate'ish, meant to be mates kind of way, if only I'd found this out sooner, known her for 20 years then we discover we can be as close as sisters, wasted time, it's a shame.

Had to pop to dad's cousin's to use his printer as mine wasn't playing ball, in other words I couldn't be arsed to set it up. Have got it working now and it's printed off my eulogy lovely, so the hour or so I spent round there wasn't needed, made us late for making the wake food, ugh, nightmare, oh well, it was my own fault for asking to use it.... and who the feck updates their Windows just before someone comes round? Not exactly the right time to be sitting there waiting for that to sort its life out... jeesh.

I don't know how I feel about tomorrow, if my mother breaks down it'll be weird and tough, I can't comfort her, I just can't, I still remember the look of hate in her eyes the day she went for me because I wouldn't go to school one day when she'd wheeled me round on a bike to try and get me in and I'd refused point blank (I was shit scared of one of the teachers, he bullied me awfully), pure hate it was I swear... and that stopped any connection with her in any form right there. I don't want to have to go through this, really I don't. I suppose tomorrow will be full of false sentiment and insincere handshakes, hugs and kisses, as most events like this are, I just want to get through it in one piece, without making a show of myself, no doubt mother will wheel out the "Oh, Caroline has been great, don't know how I would of managed etc etc" line now company are here to witness it, typical, she won't say it to me when we're alone though, oh well. Got my eulogy printed and ready, a readout from paper has been tested and it all worked so yes, I can do this and I'm going to, because my gut tells me so and that I trust more than anything, wish me luck, I'm going in......

The Cracks

I broke down and sobbed this afternoon, it all just got so much I just imploded for a while. It was about mother giving too old bank statements and me not noticing til I'd scanned them all off, I felt my time had been wasted by someone who I have asked repeatedly to find the right ones and I just felt sooooo overwhelmed I just cried, I was lost and alone.

The ex propped me up luckily but I have no idea how I will enjoy being stuck with my mother, with no smokes, in a tin box for a week on 'holiday', I want to top myself at the thought! She's driving me literally to the point of insanity, I swear she's a narcissist you know, she has all the traits and boy am I suffering, and I can't lose it now so close to the funeral, I'm determined to do that f*cking eulogy, even if it kills me, and it might as this rate!

So, yeah.... at least we know we've found the gun cabinet keys so I can take police advice now, that's one thing accomplished I suppose, every little helps.

Love Yours

Life is a journey, life is the journey.

The journey starts with life, the journey gives life. 

Every great journey has its Twists and Turns, its Peaks and Valleys, its Yays and Nays - real and illusionary.

We are designed to enjoy each moment of this journey, as each moment prepares us for the next. Pretty simple, yet pretty hard.

There is always something in the past, future or in the lives of others that eclipses our present moment. Filling our days with desires for what is not and ignoring what is, until it is not.

J. Cole puts it crisply in Love yourz - “...But you ain't never gon' be happy till you love yours, No such thing as a life that's better than yours...”

“The fundamental delusion - there is something out there that will make me happy and fulfilled forever.” - Naval Ravikant

All you need is here, now. Love yours.


- Osasu Oviawe

Down And Dirty

Well. it half killed me but I filled in the dip in my mum's drive to stop the neighbours moaning, the one my dad made to piss them off, I hope he watched me fill it in.... I'll be struck down with lightning now, just watch, he'll be spinning in his coffin the moment they put him in it I bet you, sat on his cloud watching me scrape and shovel, his teeth gnashing at it all. Too fookin' bad father, I said I'd fix it and I have, to the best of my ability and the neighbours can kiss my ass if they don't like it.

Other than that I've not done a great deal, just a bit of shopping and poodling about. Had to drop in at the local pub and have a pint, mother was driving me nuts with her carefree an blaise attitude to important things, I give up with her at the moment, she's dragging her heels on everything and it's driving me nutzoid! Maybe I've shielded her too damn much in all this, maybe she needs to get down and dirty here in the trenches. Not once has she asked me how I'm coping, nothing, like I don't even count. I appear to be ok but I'm hurting too, I've not had time to stop and feel sad, I have organised every little detail... every single one, I don't know if I've finished my crying or what? Maybe these antidepressants are turning me into an emotionless zombie, don't want that!! Blimey, this is waaaaay too complex for me.

I have to go get my glasses fixed tomorrow now as the nose pads have come off and they're killing my snout, basically. Then we have to fit the ex into his pantaloons.....ooops, I mean his trousers, need to get my funeral clothes here and ready for Tuesday and do a shit load of practice on my eulogy so I have it spot on. I can do it, I know I can, I'm shy by nature but I have balls if needed and I'm not afraid to use them, because of course, I am my father's daughter after all.

The Sense Of Duty

Another day, another set of phone calls... obviously. I actually feel lost if I'm not phoning anyone now, how sad is that? Blimey, I need to get a life, or get my old life back.... not sure that's ever going to happen because now too much has changed to ever go back to what it was, I have new responsibilities now that I can't shirk with good conscience, sigh, life really did change for me on the 25th July 2018. It was the day I really became a true card holding, fee paying adult..... bound to happen sooner or later I suppose but it came so quickly I didn't even get to blink, that sucks.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself or anything really, been too damn busy!!! I've rung the bank and found out how to close dad's account, I've sorted out her car insurance so that's valid from the 31st, I've been and sorted out the difficult subject of charity grants and suchlike with the undertaker, like a big girl, because mother couldn't face it. Actually that was tough, not the bit about 'we're not paying you til the grant comes' through stuff but another thing. I was sat in the car outside, with the clothes that they are dressing him in to be buried, feeling the material of the jeans and the shirt, and that was damn hard knowing where they were going, to clothe him for his final journey. That felt worse than agreeing to parts of his body being used for medical science.... holy shit, I have done some stuff in this process that has been SO hard, to shield my mother from it mostly, to shield a woman who has treated me with contempt many times and thought - along with my father - that I was stupid and worthless, who said to her friend she wished she'd never had me.... that was nice to hear at 17, let me tell you. Yet now, here I am trying to take the incredible weight of all this on my shoulders and getting minimal gratitude, if any.... boy, I'm either a saint or a complete mug, you choose. Well, looks like old dumb f*ck here isn't doing too bad is she, eh?

What am I going to do if she starts crying in front of me on Tuesday? I haven't got a clue, I can't even touch her with compassion I feel so detached from her in the sense of a normal mother and daughter relationship, we've never really had one. I'm afraid I'm going to have to sit away from her and pretend it's because of the eulogy and getting up to speak and such like, so I can look the other way, that sounds awful but this woman has never shown me one single emotion in my life, or compassion to me, and I have not one idea how to comfort her.... I just can't, period.

Oh well, such is life eh? I'll soldier on. Might go see 'LS' tomorrow, might go fill that bloody dip in the drive dad made just to be awkward to the neighbours, such fun my life is!

Becoming The Lion

Something strange has happened to me in the last 2 weeks or so, I have become intensely protective of my mother. This is peculiar to me, we've never been 'close' at all, ever, yet if anyone tried to hurt or upset her now I'd rip their heads off. I'm all she has now, and she's all I have and suddenly I feel like the parent and she's the child in a way.... it's bizarre. Like the nonsense with the benefit people not paying her for 12 weeks, I would eat beans on toast and super noodles before I'd let her go without anything. I'd sell my Raleigh Burners, even though I love them, to feed her and pay her bills, no hesitation at all...... why? That's the question, why would I suddenly change my apathy, as such, and now become like a lioness guarding her cubs?

She's treating me like a substitute for my father, that much I have figured out, and if that's the way it's got to be for her to be happy and comfortable then, it will be so. I think she's too old and too set in her ways to become a independent woman running her own house and life, she's had my father there for 51 years doing all the arranging of stuff, she has no clue how to do it, should I push her to do it herself? Not now, no. She's just lost the only man she ever loved, even if he was a complete bastard to her most of the time, it's left a huge hole in her life and she floundering, big time. Ok, so if I need to take over and make sure everything is done then so be it, all of a sudden my mission is clear, I will look after her in a way my father didn't, he's left her penniless - apart from the greatest asset, the house. I don't want my share of what probate says I can get, it's her house, she bloody earned it, trust me.

Been on the phone again most of the morning, trying to get some progress about probate and what a total head f*ck that is! Good God alive, my head nearly exploded, seriously, it did, I had to hang up before I lost all sanity. Spoken with a lovely lady at the charity I approached a week or so back who has signposted me to another charity I may be able to scrounge burial money off, this is getting a bit ridiculous, talk about hanging out the begging bowl! But if I can get another sum out of them too I can tell the DWP to go f*ck themselves and we won't have to involve them, the costs would then be manageable and my mother wouldn't have such a financial burden, here's hoping, they're my first call in the morning that's for sure!!

Y'know what? In this last 3 weeks I think I've finally grown up, all the way, at last. I feel like a proper adult.... not sure I like all the shit that comes with it but I feel like a grown up, at 45, better late than never eh?

The Maze

Blimey..... Age Concern woman was shit hot at her job today. She blew me out of the water in terms of knowledge of pension credit and all that and swept through the lot like a tidal wave, more power to her elbow I say! I just loitered a bit and sneaked out for smokes. Mum is going to have to find out I enjoy a puff, gonna have to fess up and face the backlash, it can't be any worse than the shit mess we're in right now, but hopefully for not much longer, Caroline will conquer.

Sorted the house insurance out too whilst I was there, now that that's out the way I can plow on with finding my way through the probate maze, we need legal advice, and pronto. That costs though, and collectively we are a bit skint right now. My next conversation is with the undertaker about how we can't pay them, that's going to be an interesting one, should I sell tickets? Mum just found out she'll have a very small income for 12 weeks so they can go whistle, frankly. I'll do it face to face I think, more wriggle room for bargaining I reckon, we'll see.

I'm doing ok in general, no tears or thoughts of tears, maybe I'm in denial again, I love that place after all, but no..... no feelings of gloom as such, just ticking along. Mum REALLY doesn't want me to speak at the funeral, no idea why, too bad really, told the vicar I will now so no backing down, if it takes me 3 soddin' hours I'll get it out!! Someone in this family needs a pair of balls, and oh yes, looky here.... it's Caroline again, and I'm the youngest I reckon. Jeeeeeesus, probably nobody else will say anything because there wasn't much good to say in the last few years, oh lordy no. But we'll see I suppose.

Mother actually acknowledged my efforts in front of Age Concern woman today, but only because she was there and she praised my efforts for sorting things out for mum, "I don't know how I'd have managed without Caroline" And no, nor does Caroline know how you'd have managed, feck all would have been done! That's all I wanted, a thank you, show you give a crap for my efforts, it's not much to ask, is it? You can keep the money, not interested at all, just a thank you.

Digging Deep

Well, I've picked myself back up and I'm ready to carry on. The keyboard seems to be following suit and has started glowing away again merrily, not sure what that was all about but I'm embracing it and hopefully it'll continue!

I've had a day where I've been able to stay at home and do sod all.... first one in 3 weeks I suppose, that time went quickly, seems to have just whipped by, spinning me round in a circle in the process, dad's been gone 3 weeks.... soon it'll be 3 months, then 3 years, and it still seems like a bad dream, but I'm coping today, no tears, starting to force myself to be a hard nut and concentrate on this eulogy, getting it out before I give in and crack. Have just emailed the nice vicar to announce my plans to shit myself reading a speech in front of what I suspect will be a fairly full church.

Of course on my 'day off'' I have sorted mum's car insurance out and arranged a tanker to pump out the septic tank, even resting I am doing all the things, by rights, she should be. Then she says she's 'too hassled and too stressed' to pursue this grant that could be worth £1500 towards the funeral costs.... when it comes to that much money I'm the least stressed mofo in the goddamn world!! And let's all pause for a sec to examine exactly what stress she's had shall we, I've arranged and dealt with everyone and everything, hours on the phone. Yes she's lost her husband, she could find another, I'll NEVER get another father, this isn't grief top trumps again, this is about being appreciated for what I've done, and I have worked my bloody arse off (to the vast detriment of my own health I might add) to make sure she doesn't have to worry herself about anything.

Gah..... I seem to be ranting every day but I need an outlet, oh God, do I! Thank the lord for my mate 'LS' who has been there every step of the way, she's a feckin' diamond. We are becoming very close, and I kinda like it. I'm leaving that little island of Caroline I exist on and rowing to the shore more these days, and I like she's waving on the beach to welcome me. Other friends have been fab too, you really do find out who your mates are in situations like this, oh hell yes. Tomorrow I have a sit in on the Age Concern woman talk, then we need to sort out the ex's trousers, which are so big they look like a circus tent.... he is not coming to my father's funeral looking like a tramp or a hairy twat, end of.

Annnnnnnd breeeeeeathe..............

Drowning

Not only does my life suck balls right now but now my £75 quid keyboard has stopped glowing so I can bloody see it in the dark.... which I the main reason I effin' bought it!!! I dunno if I've pressed something and turned it off or what the hell is happening here. Maybe if I do a PC restart it may come back on but I have shitloads of bloody tabs open dealing with the hilarity of finding a company to empty my mother's septic tank!

Yes, my life really has turned to shit, or trying to find a company to get rid of it at a price that won't make us all die of shock. Oh man, the house insurance won't deal with me without mum being there to give consent but Scottish Power were very good and now that's sorted, thank the lord, one success today at least, one to tick off the list at least. No call from car insurance though and the undertakers are still dodging the question about whether they're digging a double or single grave.... FFS!! I have asked the woman twice now by email and nothing, she can expect a visit if I don't hear anything by Wednesday, had enough. Why my mother can't just phone and ask her is a source of mystery to me, since it's her grave and all that, Jesus, throw me a frikkin' bone here!

She just seems to be content to take a back seat whilst I run myself ragged over every little detail, apparently I learn we've had about 30 sympathy cards for our loss, and I think I have seen 1 out of all of them... it's just doing my head in, at some point she needs to get a grip and realise she needs to learn how to do this stuff for herself, is this going to be my life now? I'm being my dad to her, sorting everything, I may look like him but I'm not HIM and she needs to stand on her own two feet in this world like I do, like I bloody HAD to when I moved out and took on the big bad world.... well, I say moved but it was more like made a run for it from father's put downs and temper.

Talking with his neighbour's daughter today had me so ashamed I nearly got emotional, about how his tyranny stopped this poor woman of 90'ish going into her garden if he was about, just scaring her and making her upset for no reason except he didn't like her fir tree and started threats of solicitors and all sorts. I was genuinely upset for her and my gut is telling me I need to go see her and say sorry, I trust my gut now, it's the right thing to do, I know it is.

So many emotions going on right now, being in his garage with the chair he used to sit in, with the packets of seed potatoes we got together not long ago, looking at his vegetable garden..... the child in me wants her daddy back, as bad as he was to me. I want to be carried up the stairs like 'a sack of spuds' as he used to say, to go out to his friends house on a Saturday morning and sit under the table being quiet as a mouse as they talked. Yet I remember what he used to say to me, destroy me with words and because of that I'm in the mental health system. It's not all his fault, mother is a master of insensitivity and subtle put downs, I learnt early on in my life never to show emotions, keep how you feel secret, because of her.....

I guess I'm just rambling now but it needs an outlet, I'm angry at the moment, angry this whole thing has happened, maybe angry at dad for leaving me, leaving me to deal with all this shit. God, I'm going to need some counselling after this, I was struggling before this, before the weight of the world fell on my crumbling shoulders. And I'm a bit upset that someone I thought was there for me seems to backed off, death isn't pleasant and I get people don't want to be around it but...... just feeling a bit let down, I'm still the same old me, it may have changed me in subtle ways but still I stay the same don't I?

Capri For Me

Well, I tried to go out and do normal things, like go to a car show... which I did, and it was very pleasant. Had a good old drool over the Capri's as usual, I will own one one day, I'm determined I will at some point but I'd better start saving in a serious manner. The ex can smell the money and seems to be being extra nice to me, wonder why? Hmmmm, well let's think.....  I'm wise to him though, he won't get a pot to piss in from me!

It's going to be short and sweet today, I'm so tired I need my bed, I'm so tired I. I can't type. Need some decent sleep and fast.....

Random thoughts on random days in random houses

External tokens of success massage your ego, but ego is the first to desert you in the end. People that require you to have more tokens in order to value you, do not matter.

Most of the people you meet did not matter in the beginning, and surely will not matter in the end. They are the noise that train you to appreciate serenity.

In the end, no one knows the end.

The fire in the hearts of men, sends smoke to their brains, clouding judgment. The nobler the passion, the lighter the cloud.

Unhappiness is usually birthed by comparison.

You can’t change your circumstances, and, you can change your circumstances. Both hold true at the same time.

Archers know that farther targets require higher aims.

Man designs his cage and rewards himself for liberation efforts.

What is really important to you? Create time for it now. Create time for it daily.

Daily processes (and tasks) compound into habits. Habits are pointers to destiny.

- Osasu Oviawe

Wake-Up Alarms

The interesting thing about alarm clocks is that you already know whether the clock will get you out of bed in the morning or just become a transition device from deep sleep to snoozing.

It is not the alarm that wakes us up. It is not what lies ahead of our day. It is not what happened the previous day. It is not what happened that night. It is our priority, our choice.

I have had days where I turned the snooze button to an endless loop of dissatisfaction. Never really feeling refreshed after forty winks.
I have had days where I did not even bother to turn off the alarm. I just continued in deep sleep. Too tired to be bothered.
I have had days where I woke up before my alarm. Alive and lively, already plugged in to game time mode.
I have had days where I turned off the alarm before going to bed. Giving free rein to my body’s clock. Getting up immediately I am up and starting the day. 

Wake-up alarms do not wake us up. They are a signal. You choose whether to take the sign or ignore it. Each choice has a cross. Choose your cross wisely. You never know how long the journey ahead will be.

There are various wake-up alarms in our lives. Please wake-up, now.

- Osasu Oviawe

The Steady Plod

Well, I'm still plodding on, lots of stuff to be doing still but I'm making a dent in the pile slowly. So many things to do and people to tell, it is exhausting frankly at times but I'm still going. My friends have been a tower of strength and I can't thank them enough for it, they've kept me going, especially 'LS' who has been fantastic.

'LS' has been assaulted by her man today and I'm fuming at him, want to batter him for touching her, it's never ok to do that. I suppose violence back isn't the answer but I don't want her hurt anymore, she's worth more than that. She's got the most generous heart and soul of any person I have ever met, and I will protect her if I have to, whatever that takes.

I've actually had a day of doing nothing, apart from chat on the phone to friends, not related to father at all! I did have a bit of a breakdown moment last night over the death announcement in the newspaper, just made it too damn real for a minute. Also I have to approve the final details for the order of service book for the funeral as mother is 'too stressed', what fun eh? Still, we'll get through.

Going to a car show tomorrow, hoping for some light relief there, it's a classic ford one so Capri's ahoy! I love drooling over them and maybe when mum sells the house she might buy me one eh? Oh yeah.....we can hope, haha.

Shit Or Go Blind

Oh my good lord what a mental day, non feckin' stop. And it pissed with rain all day and I got soaked, twice.... fantastic. I managed to get myself to the diabetic shrink this morning and spilled out the whole tale of woe for the last 2 weeks, she's so concerned I'm on the verge of pure madness she wants to see me again next month instead of in 3 - whoopee, check out my bad self, I'm extra crazy now! Is there any wonder with all this shit? I've got my first dose of the new antidepressant and I have swallowed it, I have serious reservations as to whether it'll make a crap's worth of difference but hey ho, we'll give it a whirl.

Then of course it was onto the introduction to self help bollocks down at the mental health team HQ, unusual group of suspects down there, tried to be friendly and upbeat, make mates, y'know. Sat next to a nice girl who I think was gay, but then again I got called male so maybe I have grown a dick, shouldn't make assumptions, bad girl. I signed up for one about beating the 'black dog' as I may as well make an effort to try beat this spiral of hopelessness off, what do I have to lose? My sanity maybe, but that buggered off years ago.

Then I went and sorted out my meds at my new pharmacy, which I might add are wonderful compared to the last shower of pure shit, no more monthly arguments - yay! Anyway, they gave me a whole 2 bags of a month of meds, I have more drugs than a mofo and I'm going to enjoy getting blasted on every one I can, reality doesn't appeal to me right now so bugger it, going to get wasted as I possibly can for as long as I can.... there's the truth, not pretty in print but those are the facts, Caroline gonna get f*cked up!

I bought a hair trimmer, going to keep it short now it's this length because I love it like this, so easy to care for and I like the style, mother will have to deal with people thinking I'm a lesbian, ha! In fact I may play up to it just to piss her prejudice off.... gay and f*cked off my face on prescription meds, sounds like a plan!!!

(Disclaimer: Acting out today because I'm in a bit of a state, I don't normally behave so stupidly do I? Just all getting too much weight to bear again, I'll be good tomorrow, honest)

Weight Of The World

I truly feel like I have a million bricks on my shoulders right now. I have done everything required of a dutiful daughter today, taking the mother into the bank, the photo shop, the supermarket, the chemist... yet still when she phones me I just get yelled at for trying to explain how I'm working through the pile of people who need telling the father went and dropped f*cking dead on us 2 weeks ago. I'm doing my best here, she's blind to it, she was blind to her own domestic abuse and blind to the fact her husband systematically emotionally beat down her child until there was not much left at all, just a pile of goo and bones.

I feel a bit like going into the middle of the woods and screaming.

I will get to the end of the things to do eventually though one hopes. We went and finalised the funeral service this afternoon, so that's all done. Of course I let mum have her way about which pic to have on the front of the service booklet, she can have what she wants, my pic can go on the back, does it even matter? Apparently we're getting a mock up so we can see which we like best, but it's a done deal as far as she's concerned, I'm left with no stomach for a fight over any of it any more, do what you like and charge over £4000 for it people, knock yourselves out.......

Oh and a quote from mum's mate to end.....

"Hope you are coping ok, your mum tells me she couldn't have managed without you. xx"

Huh... who knew.

It's Good To Gloat

I think today was a good day, as best as days can get under these circumstances, but I was happy there for a while this afternoon and morning, things were almost normal'ish for a while. The real smug cherry was the look on Dr Weaselface's face when he saw my blood test results from a few weeks back - ha, ya twat! Didn't see that one coming did you? Oh the smug was epic and worth every single second of open mouthed unbelief from him, it felt fantastic, what a great moment to be alive, to see his gobsmacked little mush..... oh it was pure poetry. I don't get moments like that very often so I will dine out on that for quite a while.

Other things accomplished today include sorting meds with nice prescription manager in doctors, being snotty with the pharmacy and telling them I want them ready when I walk in tomorrow because not a single f*ck is now given about my attitude with those morons in there. Buying lots of diet coke in Asda, buying other shit in Poundland, buying milk bread an cheese in Iceland, Having a milkshake and just generally strutting about feeling ok about things.

I did write a eulogy draft for the funeral, might need to practice it but I do want to read it myself if I possibly can, I really do! I need to say these things out loud. Good job I have the diabetic shrink on Thursday to talk this one through, as well as it turns out the bloody other therapy course for 2 hours, got the day wrong, there really is no rest for the wicked, I suppose it'll keep me busy and not thinking  for a while though, bonus.

Tomorrow? Bank, buying flowers, paying undertaker, pictures, order of service, does it ever bloody end? Please, I pray it does.

ANDs and ORs

We are always forced to believe that the choices we face come with the dilemma of the “OR”.
You are either chasing market share or profitability.
You are either making profits or losses.
You are either a success or a failure.
You are either engaged or disengaged.
You are either good or bad.

We are constantly faced with the binary choice of 0 or 1. Asked to take a side. Required to defend that side. Destined to die on that side. Never living the whole.

This is why I love the concept of “Strong opinions, weakly held”.

You can chase market share and profitability. You are leading.
You can be making profits and losses. You are innovating.
You can be a success and a failure. You are growing.
You can be engaged and disengaged. You are thinking.
You can be good and bad. You are human.

It is in the ANDs of life that your genius is born.

You can even have ANDs and ORs. 

No one should limit your ANDs.

- Osasu Oviawe

Short Term Wins

The 8 Step Kotter Model of Change Management is a gold mine of leadership. 

We will address all the Steps, but I am starting at Step 6 because that is what came to me today.

There is value in creating and celebrating short term wins, while on the journey to long term sustainable gains. 

This celebration is not a distraction, it is an enabler of the right behaviors. Winning behaviors. 

Celebrating short term wins, incentivizes winning, and winning is why we are in the game.

Long term gains cannot be reached without short term wins. Why? 

1. Not everyone will reach the long term, but everyone needs to feel it is worth trying.
2. Long term commitment is by itself, hard work.
3. People repeat what is celebrated. Willingly or unwillingly. What people repeat, is culture.

It is thus shocking when I see leaders get scared of celebrating short term wins, using the excuse of maintaining a sense of urgency. I agree, a sense of urgency is always required, but if you get stuck in a sense of urgency, you better be building a Fire Service Department.

As a leader, you cannot afford to always bring, promote and incentivize a "burning platform" syndrome. Sometimes, it is the dance floor that should be burning with the dancing shoes of your team. 

In the long run, the long term goals change.
In the short term, there should be signposts that you are in the right direction.

As you journey along, you are allowed to raise your hands up in a "V" at predetermined signposts and then put them back down and get on the grind.

Create and celebrate short term wins, but don't let up.

- Osasu Oviawe

A thought

As the features in a gadget improves, the casing/form becomes more fragile.


Same applies to humans.

A day in my journal

I shared a part of my journal entry with a friend recently. So I decided to share it with the world, because what is good for one can be expanded to all.

 

Journal entry on May 22, 2018.

 

Thankful

• Successful start of Line Management.
• Transfer of stipends to loved ones.
• Tithe payment.

Do better

• Proactively manage meeting times and duration, to ensure prompt conclusion of the agenda.
• Ignore what adds no value. Not all calls for my opinion need to be answered.
• Decline meetings that only need me for credibility. Value addition or No-No.

Learning

• People want more responsibility, but what helps them really grow, is smart trust.

 

- Osasu Oviawe

Pull out game

There are parallels between men that brag about their pull out game in sexual escapades and men that brag about their pull out game in investments. Sinister parallels.


Let us talk about some.

You really should not be in it
If you have a pull out game as a strategy, you really should not be in the game in the first place. No matter how disciplined you are, in the moment of truth, it is really tougher to follow through on such a strategy, except you were never into it in the first place.

You are not playing fair
You are obviously working with insider information and actually playing other stakeholders for a fool. It is only a matter of time before you get caught out.

You have been lucky
Maybe your pull out game is actually weak and you have had many failures, but somehow, it never showed, so you still walk away from the room with your chin up.

You have done many ineffable things
A good number of abortions have followed your failures, just to keep up with the image.

You are in it for the short term
This is always a short term strategy, with no planned long term horizon. Short term strategies do not compound and they ultimately are a waste of irredeemable time.

You are risking it all
While avoiding a commitment, you are actually risking it all, because the greatest risk is getting into a noncommittal engagement without any protection.

You are betting against nature
Unfortunately, nature always has the last laugh.


- Osasu Oviawe

It depends

What is your reaction to a ringing phone?
It depends.
It depends on who is calling.
It depends on where I am.
It depends on the frequency of calls from the caller.
It depends on the perceived value of the caller.
It depends on me.


What is your reaction to a broadcast?
It depends.
It depends on who is sharing.
It depends on where I am.
It depends on the frequency of broadcasts from the sender.
It depends on the perceived value of the sender.
It depends on me.


What is your reaction to a notification?
It depends.
It depends on what is popping.
It depends on where I am.
It depends on the frequency of pop-ups from the sharer.
It depends on the perceived value of the sharer.
It depends on me.


- Osasu Oviawe

Curtains

When you go to the theatre, curtains are used to:

• Separate the auditorium from the stage,
• Act as a backdrop,
• Decorate.

When you go to a home, curtains are used for:

• Light and air control,
• Privacy,
• Decoration. 

In a theatre, the audience, guests or visitors are treated to the front side of the curtain (beautiful view), while the performers soak in the back side of the curtain (ugly view), until they are allowed in. Very few guests are allowed in, to see the backstage. It is usually reserved for those that are enchanted by the performer.

In a home, the crowd, guests or visitors can only view the back side of the curtain (ugly view), while the owners soak in the front side of the curtain (beautiful view), until they are allowed in. Very few guests are allowed in, to appreciate the home. It is usually reserved for those that are trusted by the owner. 

 

Curtains of a theatre – Externally motivated. Look good. Drive fast. Live large. Travel in front. Party hard. Bright lights. 

Curtains of a home – Internally motivated. Feel good. Joy. Care. Commitment. Courage. Kindness. Integrity.

 

While some individuals live in a theatre, others prefer to be at home.

  

Your choices - Put up a show and let enchantment filter the crowd you let in or Create beauty within and let trust filter the crowd you let in. Choose what works for you.

“The big question about how people behave is whether they've got an Inner Scorecard or an Outer Scorecard. It helps if you can be satisfied with an Inner Scorecard.” - Warren Buffett

- Osasu Oviawe

Investment advice

Investment advice is readily available and easily accessible. The reason we struggle financially is not due to lack of financial knowledge, but a lack of financial discipleship.

Wealth building is simple, but humans have a knack for making simple things complicated because of the need to look like it requires genius to do the most mundane activities.

The first step is to actively take care of your health. To stay healthy, ingest just enough for your activity level and use your largest organ to expend as much waste as possible - sweat more. No matter how much wealth you build, ill health can undermine it all. Never forget.

The second step is to live on less than you earn. Less is more, without compromising your health. The starting point is to earn. Once you have an earning, there is no excuse you should accept on why you cannot live on less.

The third step is to invest the excess in what you understand, not what is trending. What you understand, is not what you think you understand, but what you have built enough antifragility into, to manage the VUCA (Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, Ambiguity) that always prevails.

Lastly, allow compounding work for you. Learn to wait. You are not waiting for the best time to profit, you are waiting for the time of real need.

- Osasu Oviawe

Nothing

Interestingly, a secret of life is the nothingness of life. Those that have come to understand when and how to use nothing, have been disproportionately rewarded.

Let's go a little deeper.

In health, what and when not to eat is just as important as what and when to eat.

In investments, buying is followed by a long “do nothing” phase, if you expect compounding to be on your side.

In parenting, the times you stay out of the way and allow growth through some difficulty, is important for character building.

In music, nothing between notes can determine the difference between classics and fads.

In relationships, the periods of nothing reveals the hidden intents of the heart - worthy or unworthy.

In tourism, people travel long distances to get away from everything familiar and experience a little bit of nothing.

In life, the nothing we knew before birth is the nothing we will embrace after death.

There is an art and a science to knowing when and how to do nothing, but it is so hard, because it takes everything to do nothing.

- Osasu Oviawe

Space

“Thirty spokes are joined together in a wheel, 
but it is the center hole that allows the wheel to function.
We mold clay into a pot, 
but it is the emptiness inside that makes the vessel useful.
We fashion wood for a house,
but it is the emptiness inside that makes it livable.
We work with the substantial,
but the emptiness is what we use.”

- Laozi Tao Te Ching 11

As a first step to organizing a place, we sort what exists and throw out what is no longer required. We create space. It is within that space that all else can be done. 

The same applies in our lives. We must consciously work on creating space, before we can create.

I am not asking you to apply Minimalism, but there is some value in understanding its central theme. Consciously reduce the clutter.

Create periods of no busyness, periods of tranquility. 

“Enlightenment is the space between your thoughts” - Eckhart Tolle

Peace, be still.

- Osasu Oviawe

What is coming?

It is difficult to hold back and watch those you love make mistakes on the learning journey. Nevertheless, it is what we must do. It is part of the learning and living journey. Sometimes, mistakes are required to make learning stick by presenting alternative choices, other times, mistakes throw open a new vista of opportunities.

In our connected world, mistakes are getting more unforgivable, making the job of parents and leaders more crucial. 

You can classify mistakes using any smart adjectives - genuine mistake, honest mistake, stupid mistake, careless mistake, beautiful mistake, lucky mistake, malicious mistake, mindless mistake, serendipitous mistake; but a mistake is a mis-take, you would have preferred to avoid it and your input never intended the consequences.

The development of Artificial Super Intelligence (ASI) will not make human learning easier, as machine learning increasingly makes human learning seem too slow and ineffective. Capitalism has always exterminated the slow and ineffective, it will remain true to character with humans.

Unfortunately, we cannot take mistakes out of human learning, but we can give better direction.

The slight differences between people are now compounded at a much higher rate than in previous times. People start mistaking mistakes for failure, making them feel like failures at much younger ages, leading to an astronomical rise in depression, drug abuse and suicides. 

To avert this feeling, humankind is being habituated to do less and expect more. An oxymoron that promotes extinction.

It seems as machine learning accelerates the ease of living and the associated reduced need for human exertion, humanity has become more dissatisfied and impatient. This is why I pay attention to the singularity crowd, not because of the obvious narrative on ASI and the ways in which civilization will metamorphose, but because I feel the need to understand how humankind will manage the coming state - a state of “be” without “being”.

I expect an inadvertent increase in demand for psychologists and psychiatrists within organizations and in the larger society. These are currently undervalued fields in Nigeria, so an opportunity exists for those trying to pick up a course of study and are not yet into the coding buzz.

For those paying attention, we must give better direction and cover to those in our care.

- Osasu Oviawe

Decision Journaling

First let’s start with an excerpt from an article on Shodor.org

Mentor: Our brains play an important part in how we perceive objects. For example, take a look at this tessellation and describe what you see:


Student: I see rows of crooked lines with a distorted checkerboard pattern in them.
Mentor: Are you sure the lines are crooked?
Student: Yes! They look wider at one end than the other.
Mentor: Hold a ruler or other straight edge along the horizontal lines in the image and tell me what you observe.
Student: (holding a ruler to the image) It doesn't seem possible, but the lines actually are straight! Why do they appear to be crooked? 

My biggest takeaway from the above optical illusion is that even when it is becomes clear that your initial assumptions are wrong, your perception is still difficult to change. 

This debacle is even worse with entrenched cognitive biases and the stories we tell ourselves in order to live with ourselves. We lack accurate data on our decision making, yet glorify our gut feelings, because our brains have an uncanny way of increasing the odds in our favor and getting even with everyone but ourselves.

I learnt a simple way of checking myself and staying grounded on what my real decision-making success rate is, by keeping a decision journal as advised by Daniel Kahneman. 

No standard template on decision making or decision journaling is being recommended, all I am asking is that you try out documenting your critical decisions, the intended outcomes, the reasons for the decision, how you feel about the decision and the sign posts that will act as signals for progress.

You can use a pen and notepad or an electronic device - whichever is more convenient.

What you will find by keeping a decision journal is that it will actually help you think more critically about your decisions (because writing is a great way to improve clarity), and you cannot come back to say - “If all the other people or things had acted in a standard way, it would have worked”. Whatever you missed in your decision journaling that led to an undesired outcome, is only indicative of your limitation. Undesired outcomes actually help to expand your limits, by improving the variables you will consider in future decision making.

Outcomes are the best reality checks. Outcomes provide a golden opportunity to refine your decision making in the future and improve your gut responses in emergencies. But it only works if you put down your thoughts on how you arrived at the decisions, failing which, your brain kicks in and rationalizes how you were right in spite of the outcomes and the world was wrong for its unpredictable variables.

This does not mean that for every decision, you whip out a notebook to start documenting, no, that will lead to an unprecedented number of accidents that you may not survive. What I am suggesting is that you pick 3 critical areas you need to take a decision on every week and document why and how you arrived at that decision. Then open yourself up to let the outcomes shape your cognitive biases. 

At the end of each process, your brain might still be able to trick you into believing you are always right (hindsight bias), even when the outcomes say otherwise, but you will become more conscious of the illusion.

 - Osasu Oviawe