Eight short or perhaps very long days have gone by since I returned from the beautiful island of Lundy, where for the first time in four years, I spent my annual summer holiday. There was a time, not that long ago, when I visited the island three or sometimes more times each year, but lately my visits have been confined more to early spring - around February or March. I have observed over the years that the more stressful my life becomes the more I feel the pull to visit the island - with this being my second visit this year, does this then mean that my life is becoming stressful once more? At the time that I made these bookings, probably yes, for at that time I was working through my notice in my previous job, something that was very stressful indeed. Since then the stress has for the most part melted away, and so I noticed a different feel to my visit this time around. My relationship with the island seems to have changed to something which is based on want rather than need - that is to say that I want to go to the island rather than actually needing to. This can only be a good thing.
It was as always a glorious two weeks, made all the better by the fantastic weather - I had blue sunny skies from dawn to dusk on most days, with temperatures soaring into the lower 30's. It was on the wind free days if anything too hot, which meant that horror of horrors I was forced to sit in my little yard in the deckchair instead reading a book - I got through no less than 10 books in total during those 16 days (a day at either end of the holiday for travelling too and from the ports).
Of course I acclimatised to the heat quite quickly, and so by the end of the first week I was walking my usual average of around 8 miles each day - with visits to the North and South Ends, and trips down to The Pyramid and Brazen Ward for birds and seals respectively. My not so new camera, which is the only one on the market to boast an aperture of F2.8 throughout the zoom range proved its worth, as the pictures are truly spectacular. It is amazing what a bit of extra light can do. It was well worth the (for me at least) somewhat hefty price tag.
Since returning to work I have been right back into the fray. With us housekeepers away on our respective holidays back to back, it has been weeks since I had a whole day on my own unit. Despite the fact that I work an hour less than everyone else, I am the one who is it seems expected to do the bulk of the extra work., by cleaning the units of those who are on their own holidays, in addition to my own. The last housekeeper to have her holiday returns next week, so hopefully it will be back to normal then.
When I was cleaning the Head Housekeepers' unit though last week (I think it was Wednesday - that was the day we had a visit from Head Office that kept her in meetings throughout the morning), I noticed that several other housekeepers had booked holidays for the autumn, and so thinking that I ought to book mine, the following day I went and requested a holiday form. The reaction from my boss was puzzling to say the least - she stated that things like that needed to be dealt with during your morning tea beak rather than when you had just started work (I had actually started half an hour earlier), and that I should not be booking another holiday anyway when I had only just returned from one. She didn't just say this, she actually shouted, and I have to say I was slightly taken aback. Thankfully I had a spare form at home, so that night, I made a copy of it (so that I don't have to ask her again) and filled it in. When I got to work the following day I just left it on her desk without even telling her. I really do not know what her problem was, but I do not expect to be spoken to in that way, as per usual though, when I came to informing her of this, I completely chickened out.
The next person who had a go at me was not so lucky. On Saturday I was walking between different parts of the house when I saw four of the carers sitting down and gossiping. One of them was saying that various things appear to be going wrong in the home and that the Manager needs to be aware of these, and so I stated that I simply did my own job and let them worry about that. She really bit my head off, stating "this is nothing to do with you, leave your nose out of it" or words to that affect, and this time I saw red. I tore her off a strip, and made it clear that she has no right to speak to me in that way. If she does not wish me to overhear these things then she should not sit around gossiping. If I see people doing this, then I consider it is my business, as I work there just the same as they do, and to be honest, if they consider that the home really does have problems, then rather than sitting around talking about it, they should be administering that care that they are paid to carry out. That very morning I as housekeeper, had spent thirty minutes talking to a very distressed resident and calming her down - something which strictly speaking is their job and not mine. I did it though as she wanted to talk and also because I was there. This is that I mean when I say that carers sitting around gossiping is my business, for it affects the way that I also do my job - they forget that.
Once I had calmed down and thought about all of this, it became clear that the reason this had happened was of course to show me that in actual fact, I can stand up to people and ask them to show me respect. This lady, like my own boss can be very volatile, for she is nice one minute and nasty the next. If then I can find the courage and the wherewithal to stand up to her, then I can also do this with my boss. Of course the other reason why these things have happened, for these are far from isolated incidents, is because I did not deal with it properly in my previous job. If you had met my boss there then you would know why and just how difficult that would have been - for he was not just the Manager, but actually owned the home - he was the Director. Because I failed to deal with it there, it now means that I created a similar experience again. This time then I have resolved that I will not run away and I will face things out, for the more that I fail to do this, the more that this will continue to happen, and that is something that I do not want. It is it seems, the nature of the beast.
Monday, 5 August 2013
Friday, 21 June 2013
Things that bump in the day ...
Well, I telephoned Head Office at 9am just I said I would and got put through to a very sympathetic lady who listened and went away to discuss this in more detail with her colleagues. She then came back and informed me that this was a matter for my Area Manager, sadly a man (how much easier it would be to discuss this with another female). She gave me his telephone number and advised me to contact him.
All I got was an answerphone, so I left what I considered to be a nice and friendly message stating that I needed clarification re the dress code, went out shopping and left it at that.
When I got home I hoped that there would be a message from him, but there was none, and four hours later it has still not been forthcoming. I doubt at this stage that it will be. Anyway, in desperation I phoned Head Office again, and asked if there might be a female Manager I could speak to instead, feeling by now quite upset. Five minutes later that call finally came.
I don't remember the woman's name, and it would in any case be inappropriate to mention here. If I would not be stupid enough to mention my employers name, or the location of the home where I work, then I be even more foolish to mention employees names. Suffice to say that she was not sympathetic to my cause, stating instead that if this had happened in her home, she too would be insisting that I wear a bra. I pulled all the punches I could, mentioning Coran's situation and asked whether they would require him to wear a bra. The answer was probably yes. I also mentioned that I suspected they found out by looking down my own top as I bent over to pick up the bin bag, and it was therefore not an issue until I had put my clothes on and taken theirs off. It cut no ice, but instead elicited the opposite. It became clear that I was not going to get anywhere, and rather than being sympathetic to my cause, she was in fact the opposite, not what you would expect from someone of the same sex, who must surely have encountered similar issues herself.
She did say that I could if I wish follow the grievance procedure, but I doubt if that would make a difference, as they have made their feelings abundantly clear. There does however appear to be a double standard, whereby one of the female Managers who was waiting outside the staff room that day, and I suspect may have had a hand in this, was sitting in reception the other day wearing a sleeveless vest herself with a large tattoo clearly visible on her arm. This too is against the dress code, yet nothing was said to her. When I pointed this out, I was informed that I had the right to raise this. If I see this again, then I most certainly will.
I hate the way though that this has turned staff against each other, and created an atmosphere of fear and oppression, whereby I and others no doubt too, once this gets round the home, as it surely will, means that women no longer have control over their own bodies and what they can and cannot wear. No matter how I look at this, despite all their assertions to the contrary, I just do not think that this is right. It is clear however that this is one argument that I am not going to win, so I have to now question whether I want to remain.
Was this really all worth it because of a few bumps on my chest - and trust me, they are small.
All I got was an answerphone, so I left what I considered to be a nice and friendly message stating that I needed clarification re the dress code, went out shopping and left it at that.
When I got home I hoped that there would be a message from him, but there was none, and four hours later it has still not been forthcoming. I doubt at this stage that it will be. Anyway, in desperation I phoned Head Office again, and asked if there might be a female Manager I could speak to instead, feeling by now quite upset. Five minutes later that call finally came.
I don't remember the woman's name, and it would in any case be inappropriate to mention here. If I would not be stupid enough to mention my employers name, or the location of the home where I work, then I be even more foolish to mention employees names. Suffice to say that she was not sympathetic to my cause, stating instead that if this had happened in her home, she too would be insisting that I wear a bra. I pulled all the punches I could, mentioning Coran's situation and asked whether they would require him to wear a bra. The answer was probably yes. I also mentioned that I suspected they found out by looking down my own top as I bent over to pick up the bin bag, and it was therefore not an issue until I had put my clothes on and taken theirs off. It cut no ice, but instead elicited the opposite. It became clear that I was not going to get anywhere, and rather than being sympathetic to my cause, she was in fact the opposite, not what you would expect from someone of the same sex, who must surely have encountered similar issues herself.
She did say that I could if I wish follow the grievance procedure, but I doubt if that would make a difference, as they have made their feelings abundantly clear. There does however appear to be a double standard, whereby one of the female Managers who was waiting outside the staff room that day, and I suspect may have had a hand in this, was sitting in reception the other day wearing a sleeveless vest herself with a large tattoo clearly visible on her arm. This too is against the dress code, yet nothing was said to her. When I pointed this out, I was informed that I had the right to raise this. If I see this again, then I most certainly will.
I hate the way though that this has turned staff against each other, and created an atmosphere of fear and oppression, whereby I and others no doubt too, once this gets round the home, as it surely will, means that women no longer have control over their own bodies and what they can and cannot wear. No matter how I look at this, despite all their assertions to the contrary, I just do not think that this is right. It is clear however that this is one argument that I am not going to win, so I have to now question whether I want to remain.
Was this really all worth it because of a few bumps on my chest - and trust me, they are small.
A Storm in a B Cup ...
Just as I thought I was settling into my job (I have been here for five months now), getting to know everyone and enjoying the routine, along comes yet more challenges to be dealt with. This time at least one of them, to my mind at least is highly personal in nature and could even be construed as sexist. The Managers seem to be having a bit of a crackdown on everybody at the moment, so I know it isn't just me, but knowing this does not help the situation, when you feel as a result of this that you have to walk on eggshells and watch everything you do in case it is misconstrued. This does nothing for staff morale or confidence and actually hinders our ability to do our job.
Tuesday was the warmest day of the year so far, when temperatures in the home I would say reached almost 90 degrees (bear in mind that in a care home environment, a lot of the radiators are not just kept on year round, but physically cannot be switched off) . The sweat was literally running my back, and a few other places as well. So, I went to the staff room and took off my bra. It is not the first time I had done this, and this is not the first workplace where I have done this either. I did it all the time during the summer in my previous job, and I had never had an issue with it at all.
I finished work at my usual time of 3.30pm, having taken my keys back upstairs to the other housekeepers who finish an hour later than myself (different contracts) and left my rubbish bag outside the staff room while I went to get changed. Two of the Managers were stood outside by the chairs talking about something, I did not really take that much notice. I came out of the staffroom probably three minutes later, wearing a blue strappy top and still no bra. In hindsight this may have been a bit revealing, but I did not think it mattered, as all I was doing was walking back to my car via the rubbish bins. Anyway, the two Managers were still outside talking, standing right by the bin bag that I had left, so I apologised as I picked it up and said that I was taking it outside to the bins on my way home. I then went downstairs to reception and signed out. The time on the clock, and the time that I wrote in the book was 15.34.
The following morning, I was hovering the residents lounge when the Head Housekeeper came and found me and informed me that she had been asked by my Line Manager to talk to me about the fact that I had been seen entering the staff room for the second time (they spoke to me about this about two weeks previously as well) to get changed before my official finish time of 3.30pm. I naturally disputed this, and said that I wanted to see the Line Manager in person to talk about this properly. Ten or so minutes later, she came upstairs and the three of us sat down together, in the same lounge. I cannot recall specifics about the conversation other than the fact that she said we were not to enter the staff room before our finish time, and it was also at this time that our keys should be returned. Needless to say I continued to strenuously deny this charge. The conversation became heated on both sides, and voices were raised. She seemed to be saying that it was impossible to hand keys in, go back to the staff room, get changed and down the stairs in the four minutes that I did, and so rising to the challenge of showing them just how ridiculous this all now was, I challenged her to come and time me doing all these things.
I naturally felt extremely angry about this whole affair, and wondered who it was who had passed this information on. I had my suspicions that it was the two Managers who had been outside the staff room, as not only were they both there at the time I went in and came back out, but one of them does have a reputation for this sort of thing (she obviously has nothing better to do). This though is hearsay, and cannot be proven. In the end it probably does not matter who it was, although it would help me to know who I can and cannot trust, as I now suspect everyone.
As if this wasn't bad enough, half an hour after that, the Head Housekeeper came upstairs again, and told me that I was wanted (again), this time in the so-called Quiet Room. So, I put my cleaning trolley away and went there (via the toilet) to see what it was all about. The same Line Manager was sitting there waiting for me, with as is customary in this meetings, the Head Housekeeper as note taker.
The Line Manager then proceeded to tell me that it is company policy that staff have to wear a bra while at work. My eyes rolled back in my head, as I tried to think about who could possibly have known. I do not exactly shout about the fact that I do this after all (I have mentioned it to the other housekeepers and the Activities Organiser but no one else that I can recall), and you certainly wouldn't be able to tell under the uniform that I wear; a size too big polo shirt that closely resembles a tent. I can only imagine that those same Managers saw me leaving the staff room without one, and put two and two together and complained, but again this is hearsay and I do not know for sure. I must admit though that it is suspicious. I think to be honest, the Line Manager was more embarrassed about this than I was. If it hadn't have been so serious, I would have found it funny.
The long and short of it is though that I reluctantly went and put my bra on, and spent the rest of the day (which was hotter still) sweating like that something that resembled a pig and feeling so hot as a result that I really felt at one point that I was going to pass out. The rest of the staff all said the same thing, so again, I know that this isn't me. They also gave me a copy of the dress guidelines which the more I studied it, makes no mention about wearing a bra, only that clothes must not be "revealing". It then mentions specific examples of mini skirts, tops that show midriffs, and strappy tops (my "who was outside the staff room and could have seen me radar" went off when I read that bit). It also crucially said that underwear "must not be visible", but how do they know you are wearing any if they can't see it !
The more I thought about this, the more unfair I think it is, To be honest, I think it is a diabolical liberty. It left me wondering what they going to do next, and whether they will start checking our knickers (I actually said this as well, and they wrote it down !). Knickers to them I would say, but sadly I have to work here and for the moment at least, until I can check certain things, do as they say. I also though feel that this is sexist and discriminating against women, as plenty of men have boobs (moobs) and I am pretty sure they wouldn't be told to wear a bra. It is not as if you can even see anything at least no more than you can when I do wear a bra, so I really cannot see that they have a leg to stand on. This morning then, being my day off, as soon as Head Office opens at 9am I plan to telephone the Personnel Department and have it out with them, We will see what they have to say about this whole sorry affair.
As for the timekeeping, after four attempts that spanned an hour, I finally got to see the Home Manager, with whom I had a fruitless 20 minute discussion that went round and round in circles. It finished with her refusing to make a decision, even though she said she could see where I am coming from, with her basically placing the responsibility back on us housekeepers whereby we had to get together with our own Line Manager and work out our own procedures for what she termed "leaving the building". I have never heard such rubbish in my life. That though has now been done, and nothing has changed from what I have doing already, underlining just how petty and pointless this whole thing was.
The problem is that all the clocks in the house say different things, and all of them are different to the BBC on my car radio - the BBC don't lie ! I have though been told that I have to synchronise my watch to the one in reception (which one, as there are two which both say different things) and go by that. I pointed out though that I work upstairs, so at the end of each day, in case my watch loses time, and to prevent being unfairly accused again, I would effectively have to go downstairs to check the time before going back upstairs to get my keys, and then go back upstairs again to get changed. Quite apart from the absurdity of this situation, by the time I have done all of this, they would be owing me overtime! None of this though made a difference and despite my assertions to the contrary, backed up by at least one other member of staff, they maintain that this clock is right, and what they say goes.
Coran suggested that I go out and buy a peephole bra that tells the time as the Managers walk past, perhaps even in different languages, but of course I jest. As for the timekeeping, I fear that there is no solution to that one, except perhaps to change the clock when no one is there. I guess though I will have to speak to Head Office an hour from now and have it out with them.
Tuesday was the warmest day of the year so far, when temperatures in the home I would say reached almost 90 degrees (bear in mind that in a care home environment, a lot of the radiators are not just kept on year round, but physically cannot be switched off) . The sweat was literally running my back, and a few other places as well. So, I went to the staff room and took off my bra. It is not the first time I had done this, and this is not the first workplace where I have done this either. I did it all the time during the summer in my previous job, and I had never had an issue with it at all.
I finished work at my usual time of 3.30pm, having taken my keys back upstairs to the other housekeepers who finish an hour later than myself (different contracts) and left my rubbish bag outside the staff room while I went to get changed. Two of the Managers were stood outside by the chairs talking about something, I did not really take that much notice. I came out of the staffroom probably three minutes later, wearing a blue strappy top and still no bra. In hindsight this may have been a bit revealing, but I did not think it mattered, as all I was doing was walking back to my car via the rubbish bins. Anyway, the two Managers were still outside talking, standing right by the bin bag that I had left, so I apologised as I picked it up and said that I was taking it outside to the bins on my way home. I then went downstairs to reception and signed out. The time on the clock, and the time that I wrote in the book was 15.34.
The following morning, I was hovering the residents lounge when the Head Housekeeper came and found me and informed me that she had been asked by my Line Manager to talk to me about the fact that I had been seen entering the staff room for the second time (they spoke to me about this about two weeks previously as well) to get changed before my official finish time of 3.30pm. I naturally disputed this, and said that I wanted to see the Line Manager in person to talk about this properly. Ten or so minutes later, she came upstairs and the three of us sat down together, in the same lounge. I cannot recall specifics about the conversation other than the fact that she said we were not to enter the staff room before our finish time, and it was also at this time that our keys should be returned. Needless to say I continued to strenuously deny this charge. The conversation became heated on both sides, and voices were raised. She seemed to be saying that it was impossible to hand keys in, go back to the staff room, get changed and down the stairs in the four minutes that I did, and so rising to the challenge of showing them just how ridiculous this all now was, I challenged her to come and time me doing all these things.
I naturally felt extremely angry about this whole affair, and wondered who it was who had passed this information on. I had my suspicions that it was the two Managers who had been outside the staff room, as not only were they both there at the time I went in and came back out, but one of them does have a reputation for this sort of thing (she obviously has nothing better to do). This though is hearsay, and cannot be proven. In the end it probably does not matter who it was, although it would help me to know who I can and cannot trust, as I now suspect everyone.
As if this wasn't bad enough, half an hour after that, the Head Housekeeper came upstairs again, and told me that I was wanted (again), this time in the so-called Quiet Room. So, I put my cleaning trolley away and went there (via the toilet) to see what it was all about. The same Line Manager was sitting there waiting for me, with as is customary in this meetings, the Head Housekeeper as note taker.
The Line Manager then proceeded to tell me that it is company policy that staff have to wear a bra while at work. My eyes rolled back in my head, as I tried to think about who could possibly have known. I do not exactly shout about the fact that I do this after all (I have mentioned it to the other housekeepers and the Activities Organiser but no one else that I can recall), and you certainly wouldn't be able to tell under the uniform that I wear; a size too big polo shirt that closely resembles a tent. I can only imagine that those same Managers saw me leaving the staff room without one, and put two and two together and complained, but again this is hearsay and I do not know for sure. I must admit though that it is suspicious. I think to be honest, the Line Manager was more embarrassed about this than I was. If it hadn't have been so serious, I would have found it funny.
The long and short of it is though that I reluctantly went and put my bra on, and spent the rest of the day (which was hotter still) sweating like that something that resembled a pig and feeling so hot as a result that I really felt at one point that I was going to pass out. The rest of the staff all said the same thing, so again, I know that this isn't me. They also gave me a copy of the dress guidelines which the more I studied it, makes no mention about wearing a bra, only that clothes must not be "revealing". It then mentions specific examples of mini skirts, tops that show midriffs, and strappy tops (my "who was outside the staff room and could have seen me radar" went off when I read that bit). It also crucially said that underwear "must not be visible", but how do they know you are wearing any if they can't see it !
The more I thought about this, the more unfair I think it is, To be honest, I think it is a diabolical liberty. It left me wondering what they going to do next, and whether they will start checking our knickers (I actually said this as well, and they wrote it down !). Knickers to them I would say, but sadly I have to work here and for the moment at least, until I can check certain things, do as they say. I also though feel that this is sexist and discriminating against women, as plenty of men have boobs (moobs) and I am pretty sure they wouldn't be told to wear a bra. It is not as if you can even see anything at least no more than you can when I do wear a bra, so I really cannot see that they have a leg to stand on. This morning then, being my day off, as soon as Head Office opens at 9am I plan to telephone the Personnel Department and have it out with them, We will see what they have to say about this whole sorry affair.
As for the timekeeping, after four attempts that spanned an hour, I finally got to see the Home Manager, with whom I had a fruitless 20 minute discussion that went round and round in circles. It finished with her refusing to make a decision, even though she said she could see where I am coming from, with her basically placing the responsibility back on us housekeepers whereby we had to get together with our own Line Manager and work out our own procedures for what she termed "leaving the building". I have never heard such rubbish in my life. That though has now been done, and nothing has changed from what I have doing already, underlining just how petty and pointless this whole thing was.
The problem is that all the clocks in the house say different things, and all of them are different to the BBC on my car radio - the BBC don't lie ! I have though been told that I have to synchronise my watch to the one in reception (which one, as there are two which both say different things) and go by that. I pointed out though that I work upstairs, so at the end of each day, in case my watch loses time, and to prevent being unfairly accused again, I would effectively have to go downstairs to check the time before going back upstairs to get my keys, and then go back upstairs again to get changed. Quite apart from the absurdity of this situation, by the time I have done all of this, they would be owing me overtime! None of this though made a difference and despite my assertions to the contrary, backed up by at least one other member of staff, they maintain that this clock is right, and what they say goes.
Coran suggested that I go out and buy a peephole bra that tells the time as the Managers walk past, perhaps even in different languages, but of course I jest. As for the timekeeping, I fear that there is no solution to that one, except perhaps to change the clock when no one is there. I guess though I will have to speak to Head Office an hour from now and have it out with them.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Genesis of Man no longer available via book stores
Times though change - the sales have now dwindled to an extent that it is no longer viable to pay the bi annual print free, so as from today Genesis of Man is unofficially out of print. I say unofficially because all that has really changed is that you will no longer be able to order it via book stores and online retailers. Anyone who wants a paper copy will have to order it direct from me, via my own website, or from the publisher, Authors OnLine Ltd.
It is better this way, as I can control the price and earn more money - those annoying discounters who pop up on Amazon offering "used" copies, which in reality are brand new, for ridiculous prices as a loss leader, will be taken out of the equation. If you want a paper copy you will then have to pay full price. This is only fair considering that I did all the work of writing and promoting it, using my money - not anyone else's but mine.
The Kindle version, which I uploaded some time ago, will of course still be available, which is also better for me, since I earn more again (70 percent of the selling price as opposed to about 15 percent for the paper version when ordered via publisher, even without the wholesalers), and I can make as many changes to the text as I want without incurring extra fees. I intend to do a re-write at some point, as much of the information has changed, such as the discovery of Akhenaten's mummy, not to mention my own views, which have mellowed over the years. I also hope to issue four smaller books - publishing each of the four sections as a book in its own right, giving people the option of reading it in smaller chunks. My writing buddy Tracy always said she thought it was really two books after all.
This is though for me the end of an era. When I think back to how I felt the first time I held a printed copy (I cried for about 10 minutes) in my hands, it is strange that I feel so little at its almost demise. I have to remind myself though that it not the end, and it does not mean that Genesis of Man is dead, for I doubt that it ever will be. The technology though has changed, and with it all that publishing is about - I then need to change with it and this I have done.
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
Rites of Life and Death - The Symbolism of Thatcher's Funeral
Since the death of former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher a little over ten days ago (is that really all it is), Britain seems to have existed in an almost no mans land, with some in mourning but plenty more it seems rejoicing. Rejoicing may in fact be the wrong word to use, for it is really more about turning their backs on what has been and looking forward to what is and what will be. What will be is as always down to us.
The funeral then being today brought Britons and foreigners out on to the streets in droves. While I was unable to attend myself and would not really have wanted to, I did feel it was important to view at least bits of it, and tune in to the energy field that was created. This was easier for me perhaps than most, being spiritually sensitive as I am. The environment in which I work also played a part, for as one would expect, many of the residents of the care home where I work wanted very much to view the procession and the service that followed. The Activities Organiser then duly went around the home, which is divided into five self contained units, switching on the televisions as she went, and spending time with various residents in turn who were affected by what they saw.
It was difficult then given these circumstances not to feel the energy field that was created, and which will I suspect remain in London if not the home where I work, for a while. The music echoed throughout the house, as did the televisions in various residents rooms, for some chose to remain in their own space rather than watching in the communal lounges on the big screen. These smaller televisions when combined in close range with a much larger one, created a strange echo effect whereby the sound could be heard in tandem, but with a slight time delay, almost like a faint echo. I guess that Maggie herself will also leave somewhat of an echo, a harking back for some to the "good old days", but a warning perhaps for more of what should not have been and should for them not transpire again.
Maggie was always going to a controversial figure and it would be fair to say that she created as much controversy in death as she did in life. While I have the greatest empathy with her family and those who were close to her (I have lost both of my own parents and so know exactly what it feels like), I also have empathy with those who suffered as a result of her policies. I know that there are plenty who benefited from what she did through the ability to buy their council houses and so on, but there were also plenty who suffered as a result of the other things that she did, closing the mines for example and taking power away from the unions, which has led to a gradual erosion of workers rights. In the final analysis though, what we have to look at is whether the numbers who suffered outweigh those that benefited. While it is impossible to say for sure, I suspect very much that the former does indeed outweigh the latter.
Of course what matters now is to look to the future rather than the past, and this for me is what the funeral was really about. I was aware from various forms of social media and of course the mainstream press that protesters planned to turn their backs to the coffin as it was paraded through the streets, which at first glance would seem a highly disrespectful thing to do, but when one looks at the symbolism of this one can see this act in an altogether different light. I feel that it was important to both face the coffin and turn our backs, for the front and back of the body represent both the past and the present. By facing the coffin we were symbolically paying our respects and acknowledging at the same time the grief which was felt by many. By turning our backs as well we were also acknowledging the suffering of those who bore the brunt of the dark side of her policies, but also saying that that is now behind us, and we no longer have to experience the shadow of this pain. It is time now to move forwards away from this pain and into a new era of light, where everything changes, and change of course it will, for in politics as in life, that is the nature of the beast. Politics is after all, if nothing else about life itself and our highest ideals as to what life should be and is about, in two words, equality and fairness. In order though to create that fairness, we first needed to experience its opposite - inequality and injustice. Thatcherism was thus the means through this will be achieved, a necessary part of our own evolution.
This is then not a time for complacency, and neither is it a time for silence, the communication around these issues needs though to be done in the right way, through peaceful protest and honest, reasoned and intelligent debate. The winds of change are blowing across Britain and there is nothing that those who choose to cling on to the old ways can do to stop that, no matter how much they try to convince themselves otherwise.
The funeral then being today brought Britons and foreigners out on to the streets in droves. While I was unable to attend myself and would not really have wanted to, I did feel it was important to view at least bits of it, and tune in to the energy field that was created. This was easier for me perhaps than most, being spiritually sensitive as I am. The environment in which I work also played a part, for as one would expect, many of the residents of the care home where I work wanted very much to view the procession and the service that followed. The Activities Organiser then duly went around the home, which is divided into five self contained units, switching on the televisions as she went, and spending time with various residents in turn who were affected by what they saw.
It was difficult then given these circumstances not to feel the energy field that was created, and which will I suspect remain in London if not the home where I work, for a while. The music echoed throughout the house, as did the televisions in various residents rooms, for some chose to remain in their own space rather than watching in the communal lounges on the big screen. These smaller televisions when combined in close range with a much larger one, created a strange echo effect whereby the sound could be heard in tandem, but with a slight time delay, almost like a faint echo. I guess that Maggie herself will also leave somewhat of an echo, a harking back for some to the "good old days", but a warning perhaps for more of what should not have been and should for them not transpire again.
Maggie was always going to a controversial figure and it would be fair to say that she created as much controversy in death as she did in life. While I have the greatest empathy with her family and those who were close to her (I have lost both of my own parents and so know exactly what it feels like), I also have empathy with those who suffered as a result of her policies. I know that there are plenty who benefited from what she did through the ability to buy their council houses and so on, but there were also plenty who suffered as a result of the other things that she did, closing the mines for example and taking power away from the unions, which has led to a gradual erosion of workers rights. In the final analysis though, what we have to look at is whether the numbers who suffered outweigh those that benefited. While it is impossible to say for sure, I suspect very much that the former does indeed outweigh the latter.
Of course what matters now is to look to the future rather than the past, and this for me is what the funeral was really about. I was aware from various forms of social media and of course the mainstream press that protesters planned to turn their backs to the coffin as it was paraded through the streets, which at first glance would seem a highly disrespectful thing to do, but when one looks at the symbolism of this one can see this act in an altogether different light. I feel that it was important to both face the coffin and turn our backs, for the front and back of the body represent both the past and the present. By facing the coffin we were symbolically paying our respects and acknowledging at the same time the grief which was felt by many. By turning our backs as well we were also acknowledging the suffering of those who bore the brunt of the dark side of her policies, but also saying that that is now behind us, and we no longer have to experience the shadow of this pain. It is time now to move forwards away from this pain and into a new era of light, where everything changes, and change of course it will, for in politics as in life, that is the nature of the beast. Politics is after all, if nothing else about life itself and our highest ideals as to what life should be and is about, in two words, equality and fairness. In order though to create that fairness, we first needed to experience its opposite - inequality and injustice. Thatcherism was thus the means through this will be achieved, a necessary part of our own evolution.
This is then not a time for complacency, and neither is it a time for silence, the communication around these issues needs though to be done in the right way, through peaceful protest and honest, reasoned and intelligent debate. The winds of change are blowing across Britain and there is nothing that those who choose to cling on to the old ways can do to stop that, no matter how much they try to convince themselves otherwise.
Sunday, 14 April 2013
An opportunity for change
As usual, several weeks have gone by since I last wrote this blog. I always start the New Year with good intentions of wanting to write more, but somehow life always seems to get in the way. In my case though it is really more a question of laziness, for there has been in the way of news that I could have written about (the death of transsexual teacher Lucy Meadows - when will people stop hoisting their own views on their kids while pretending to call it something that it isn't), our atrocious weather, the welfare reforms and of course the death of Margaret Thatcher. These last two for me at least, are inextricably linked, for like it or not, it was Maggie and later Tony Blair, who sowed the seeds for all of this to happen.
No matter which way you look at it, Maggie was always going to be a controversial figure, that like marmite, you either loved or hated. There does and did not seem to be any middle ground. I am not though going to sit here and have a debate about the rights and wrongs of death parties or any of her policies, for it is not the past that matters, what matters as always is what is in front of us now, so what we have to concentrate is dealing with what we have now - which are arguably the results of at least some of those policies.
The anti Thatcher brigade are calling for a return to the left, but what do they mean by that and does it matter? Well I guess it matters to them. For me it is not a question of left or right, but more about what is right and beneficial for the majority of the populace. A world where 1 percent of the population hold 99 percent of the wealth cannot be considered to be in the interests of the majority of the populace. Don't get me wrong, I am not averse to the accumulation of wealth for those who work hard and use that wealth wisely, but from what I have seen very few people actually do that. Those who say that the benefit system needs reform and that work should pay are of course correct, but I can't help but feel they are missing the point. Cutting or freezing benefits in order to achieve this is not the answer, as those on benefits like everyone else, still deserve to maintain a basic standard of living. The answer is to introduce a proper living wage so that those in work no longer need to claim benefits in the first place. It is not rocket science but common sense. For me then it is not about returning to a specific state of living or even being, but about treating people with compassion and fairness.
The welfare reforms then are an opportunity for real change, in the long term. I realise that it is hard for most to see them in that light, particularly those who are directly affected, but we should not lose sight of the fact that they as guinea pigs volunteered for this role (on a soul level that is). In time, probably sooner than we think, it will become clear that these polices simply do not work, and instead of helping people out of poverty and back into better paid work, have created more poverty and more unrest. When this becomes clear then it will also become clear that a rethink is necessary, and that is when the real change will occur. Out of this, like a phoenix rising from the ashes will come the reforms that are so desperately needed - a simpler and fairer tax system, better pay and working conditions for all, and most importantly of all, the idea that everyone regardless of their lifestyle choices is entitled to at least a basic standard of living.
No matter which way you look at it, Maggie was always going to be a controversial figure, that like marmite, you either loved or hated. There does and did not seem to be any middle ground. I am not though going to sit here and have a debate about the rights and wrongs of death parties or any of her policies, for it is not the past that matters, what matters as always is what is in front of us now, so what we have to concentrate is dealing with what we have now - which are arguably the results of at least some of those policies.
The anti Thatcher brigade are calling for a return to the left, but what do they mean by that and does it matter? Well I guess it matters to them. For me it is not a question of left or right, but more about what is right and beneficial for the majority of the populace. A world where 1 percent of the population hold 99 percent of the wealth cannot be considered to be in the interests of the majority of the populace. Don't get me wrong, I am not averse to the accumulation of wealth for those who work hard and use that wealth wisely, but from what I have seen very few people actually do that. Those who say that the benefit system needs reform and that work should pay are of course correct, but I can't help but feel they are missing the point. Cutting or freezing benefits in order to achieve this is not the answer, as those on benefits like everyone else, still deserve to maintain a basic standard of living. The answer is to introduce a proper living wage so that those in work no longer need to claim benefits in the first place. It is not rocket science but common sense. For me then it is not about returning to a specific state of living or even being, but about treating people with compassion and fairness.
The welfare reforms then are an opportunity for real change, in the long term. I realise that it is hard for most to see them in that light, particularly those who are directly affected, but we should not lose sight of the fact that they as guinea pigs volunteered for this role (on a soul level that is). In time, probably sooner than we think, it will become clear that these polices simply do not work, and instead of helping people out of poverty and back into better paid work, have created more poverty and more unrest. When this becomes clear then it will also become clear that a rethink is necessary, and that is when the real change will occur. Out of this, like a phoenix rising from the ashes will come the reforms that are so desperately needed - a simpler and fairer tax system, better pay and working conditions for all, and most importantly of all, the idea that everyone regardless of their lifestyle choices is entitled to at least a basic standard of living.
Monday, 4 March 2013
A Lundy diary - and what follows ....
I returned then to the mainland on the 2nd helicopter of the day on Friday 1st March after an eventful if somewhat chilly 11 nights, with one night either end in Barnstaple and Taunton respectively. As I was on an early helicopter, I decided to go into Bideford for fish and chips, where I shared a table with the Uncle of the Island Manager's former wife (she sadly died around 8 years ago). It was interesting then to reminisce about past times and past lives in this way.
After a nice lunch it was back on the road to Taunton and the Premier Inn near Ruishton where I spent the night. It was not perhaps the best hotel I have stayed in, but it certainly was not the worst. The following morning it was a nice long lie in before going back to the big Sainsburys at Taunton for a meat free breakfast and a big mug of tea and back home via the M3 and A303. I was home by around 2.30pm and then it was the usual round of washing clothes and unpacking etc.
Now I am back the island as always feels a million miles away, which in some ways it is. The way of life is as different and remote from mainland and indeed mainstream living as you could find. That is what makes it though more of a fantasy for me at least than reality, for nice as it is, one has to come home and back to reality or some stage. Lundy as in all holidays can only ever be a respite. A very nice one at that.
The letter to my ex boss is finally complete and hopefully put to bed, like the island herself at least, for the next five months. On the way to work this morning, I was thinking about the old job again, and I realised that there has been a fundamental shift these past two weeks, in that I have finally accepted that that chapter of my life is over. It was until now that I was able to accept and acknowledge that that is what has been going on - it was not about the anger or any of that, but about me not accepting that I had made the choice to leave. In the end though there was no choice to make, it was my sanity or my job, and faced with a choice like that, there is no choice at all. I wanted to blame others though for that choice, so that I did not have to take responsibility, and now that I have I am also free to accept, truly accept the new job and the fact that things have changed.
While I was away, at least 2 of the residents said they had missed me, and, my uniform finally arrived, so at long last I really do feel part of the team. Things then are looking up nicely at long last.
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