To Message or not to Message

People who have read many of my blog entries will know that I usually write about introspective feelings, thoughts and emotions, but today I would like to write about something altogether different. I am going to talk about messaging today as I think it is a relatively new phenomena in a world which has known human civilisation for a couple of million years and until quite recently relied solely on voices and body language to engage in the ancient art of communication.

  Before the introduction of the humble telephone in the 1870s people could only communicate when standing directly in front or in shouting distance of another person and I imagine that this was a far simpler time for everyone involved. Once upon a century or so ago when a person took a walk to the local shops for a pint of milk they simply wandered out of the door, towards the shop and then once their transaction was complete they came home again. Things have changed. Nowadays when a person wants to purchase a pint of milk they tell Facebook about what they're going to do before they do it and no doubt photograph the milk whilst it is still in the fridge so that everyone can be aware of the milk that they are buying. It is important for those on our friends list to know that we are getting enough calcium. This photographing of the milk which I'm sure you are already aware is just a metaphor for all things social networking related and is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the cataclysmic set of problems that technology has seen fit to afford us in the modern day.

   … Enter.. the smart phone. I have a smart phone and I'm very fond of my smart phone but I think that for all of the ease of communication that my smart phone affords me, I would probably be better off without it. I remember those halcyon days when phones didn’t have colour screens and a camera was something new and exotic; things were definitely simpler in those days. I didn't have a smart phone and all I used my phone for was to exchange simple messages and phone calls about functional matters and then everything changed. My phone developed and went from being regular to smart and then to highly intelligent. My phone has a mind of its own now and it makes me doubt myself, it's always there flashing on and off, telling me who's read my messages and is now ignoring me. Or perhaps this reader is just busy and has every intention of replying at a more convenient time? But why not now I ask myself? Am I not important enough? Does my message not carry enough significance to make you abandon everything you're doing so that you can engage in a conversation with me about the state of the leggings on the person I just walked past?  Whatsapp used to be great for  avoiding this pattern of self doubt. Whatsapp didn't have a 'read' function and I liked it this way. Whatsapp has a 'read' function now (strange that this happened once Facebook took over it hey?) which means that in the shake of two little blue ticks you can go from feeling comfortable and secure to weird and irritable. Everyone's been there and no one likes it so why do we do it to ourselves? Why don't we insist that we would prefer it if those we are communicating with just got back to us in their own time without the pressure of little blue ticks, 'read' receipts, last seens, 'online nows' and the plethora of other methods we use to trick ourselves into feeling insecure.

  I am aware that I am saying 'I' and 'me' a lot. I'm not speaking about me particularly but more patterns and events I have witnessed over the last couple of years as communication becomes more and more widespread and life as we know it begins to change. I remember once when I was waiting to hear back about a job and I was frustrated because I was well aware that the giver of the job could easily send an email about it from their mobile phone. Why can't they just tell me? I wondered. Well the answer is simple, it just wasn't appropriate at that time. I got the job and all was fine but those few days waiting were a nightmare. The instancy of modern life began to be somewhat difficult in those few days. Everywhere we turn these days there's a new phone mast or an internet connection appearing somewhere bizarre so that we can check our emails halfway up a tree or post a selfie from the middle of the ocean. I would like to go back to a time when telephone calls were functional and read receipts and little blue ticks were still light years away. I don't like them, I don’t need them and to be quite honest I'd like it if Mr Technology could take it all away and leave me with the simpler life I had before. So then ladies and gents, should I ditch the genius phone when this contract runs out? Perhaps I should go and live in a tent, grow vegetables in an allotment and drink my water fresh from the river. I could have an entirely more natural and self sustainable life than the one I live now which appears to run on electronic communication. I could live in nature and send smoke siganls when I really need to talk to someone and you can bet I'd never feel even the slightest need to take a photograph of myself falling alseep and show it to the world.

  In conclusion… I don't think I'm really going to go and live in the middle of nowhere, ditch my smart phone and teach myself how to build a fire from scratch but I would like more information from whoever created all of this technology on how best to use it and more importantly when to use it. Should it be functional or should it be leisurely? Should I have my phone with me all of the time or should I feel okay about leaving it at home? I guess the whole point of this little rant of mine has been to simply say that I don't know why on God's green earth a person needs to know everything about everything. Where has the mystery gone? Where is the intrigue? Why does New Zealand feel like it's next door to Spain when it is actually just over a day away? Take me back to a time when the world was mysterious, unknown and less electronic… says I, Helen who is posting this onto the interweb. Hypocritical no?

Homeward Bound

Just two weeks ago I wrote about future plans and happenings. I was having a 'where am I going?' moment. I appear to have made my mind up about what I'm doing and where I'm going now.

2.5 years ago I decided to embark on a TEFL course and get myself a teaching qualification, we all know why. The CELTA certificate which I obtained has enabled me to work in Greece, Spain, Cheltenham, Ascot and Oxford and my oh my what a journey it's been. I've met people I never dreamed I'd find... Wonderful Greek girls who changed my perception of a nation, so many English speakers who've each added a stitch to the material of my TEFL experience and those of a Latino disposition who've welcomed me to their country and helped me survive their language and create a place for myself within their culture. I've been to places from travel guides with my visitors and made a home away from home in an enchanting Southern Spanish city which I can only describe as fabulous. 

The last 2.5 years have been up, down and inspiring. They've enabled me to lay the ghosts of the past to rest and learn to embrace the present under the glowing warmth of the Mediterranean sun. I have become a teacher and been known as Miss Helen, Meez, Elen, Elena and Heleeeeen, señora, Kiria and sometimes Teacher. The English language has been opened to me and now I know just what a relative clause is as well as the meaning, form and pronunciation of the all confusing conditional sentences. In short, I have had my mind opened wide to the possibilities of the world and all thanks to the language I've been learning since I was a baby. Never have the words, 'you were always just around the corner' rung quite so true. It turns out that the answer to my prayers was in my voice box all along. 

Things often don't last forever and even the most wonderful of events and patterns have an end. TEFL as my main income has begun to reach its final destination. The train is still 6 months away but it will reach it and when it does I am going to get off and bid it the fondest farewell as I wave it on to save the next life it picks up and speeds away to better days. 

I shall be heading back to university in the country of my birth and land of ancestors. The skies above contain the memories of those I've loved and lost and I can be sure that the promise of a familial face is but a train ride away. I am going to start chasing another dream now that I'm satisfied I have made this one come true, one chapter approaches its end as another looks forward to its beginning. 

Live strong, think healthily and teach :-)

Making Sense

I have spent a considerable amount of time in my life trying to make sense of things that don’t make any sense to me. I have concluded that very little makes any sense and that’s just the way it is. In the past I have tried to find my sense from the heavens above, the ground below and the people around. I have also tried to find sense within myself but then realised that I was simply internalizing all of the unhealthy things I was inclined to feel and that in turn didn’t help either. Making sense of things can be and is a very difficult thing to do and making sense of things on our own isn’t always beneficial to us achieving the very best we can.

 I am living alone for the first time in my life and so far I’m finding it to be a cathartic experience. I am enjoying putting things in their rightful place and mooching about doing things in my own time. I am very much at a ‘what next’ place in my life. I quite honestly don’t know what to do next; I’ve told myself that I’m staying in Spain until June of 2016. (My phone contract runs out then and I’m quite simply not paying Yoigo a small fortune like I did with Vodafone before I upped sticks and moved to España.) I entertained thoughts in the summertime of returning to England after this year is out. I quite like England I thought to myself… but I quite like Spain as well and I reckon I’d also quite like Japan. I’ve often wondered about doing a PGCE and working as a teacher either secondary or primary, I’ve also considered doing a Master’s in some form of creative writing which could enable me to go after the career I’ve always wanted. I’d have to do these things in England and England is the place of breakdowns and bad weather but then on the other hand it is also the place of the forever love of my family and my beloved City of Liverpool. I can walk around Liverpool and know exactly who works in that shop and the best place to find the very best tights. I know which supermarket sells my favourite type of bread and I know that there is a welcoming aunty to be found around every corner and also in the skies above. My beach stretches along the coast of Crosby and the Sainsbury’s clock in the town centre has been broken since I was 9 years old, these are both things which are both familiar and comforting to me. My dad can be found pottering around our back garden and Specky Dave can be found spouting his adorable nonsense in Stamps Bar & Bistro. When I go home I am surrounded by people who say ‘heyyyyyy Helen! When did you get back?’ and when I get back I feel very safe and sound, like I am in the place I am supposed to be in. Bold Street, Wood Street, Lord Street, they run through my veins like I used to run through their streets as a teenager. Primark too, a place where I’m guaranteed to find familiar faces and then there’s the docks carrying their memories of times long gone and best forgotten. You can guarantee that a memory will flash up somewhere wherever I am in Liverpool and when you have a brain that has largely organised itself on how best to self protect and keep away harm this can be a little alarming. Nevertheless, it’s still home and home it will always be, despite the rain and the cold.

 My current thing that I’m trying to make sense of is making sense of where my home actually is. I’ve been listening to Blood Brothers and other Scouse accenty things lately. The voices are very soothing and they remind me of everything I have always known. They also remind me that everything I know is beginning to change and I am becoming more accustomed to somewhere else and somewhere else’s customs. But what about my own customs? What’s happened to them? Will they stay with me or will they go somewhere else? Am I am expatriate now or just a Briton living abroad? I daresay these things will become more clear as time goes on but today I can’t help but wonder. Who am I and where should I be?