Author: neil

Every so often, a letter or a video pops up in my feed and leaves me in tears.  It isn’t because I can relate to the people in them – I can’t relate to Adele. It is because they bring back memories that lay in the attic of my mind like old books. Covered in dust and cobwebs, undisturbed for decades, and unless examined a little more carefully, not anything to cherish.

That short video today reminded me of my own English teacher in Year 8, when I was 12.

I write every day now. Typing out a blog post, writing out in my journal, a quote, or a page or two of calligraphy. I write to remain ‘sane’. To get the weight of the thoughts off my mind on to a paper where they become weightless. To create more room for other thoughts and ideas to float in, flow by. Occasionally to stay and shape me.

My English teacher in year 8 started his class with handwriting exercises. Rather than tell everyone why they needed to improve their handwriting, he simply gave everyone a few minutes at the beginning of the class to make marks on their 4-ruled copywriting notebooks with a fountain pen. He didn’t tell anyone what to do: he showed us. Writing with his beautiful hand on the whiteboard with a chalk – I realise now what an impossible task it is at that angle! – he inspired a view of the handwriting world that was possible.

I’ve written about calligraphy and pens before, of my interest in it since I was much younger. What I did not have until I was 12 was a teacher who taught through inspiration – the foundations and the possibilities.

I don’t know how many students of Year 8 at St Josephs remained inspired, but Br. Samuel lit a spark for me that continues to give a steady warmth to my life 3 decades later.

Thank you Adele for the reminder.

And more importantly, thank you Br S!

Music and words.

For as long as I can remember, those two have been the longest running threads in my life. Weaved into every event, major or minor. The words to a song. The lone violin or cello. The screams of a rock or metal band, softening into the bansuri or flute, requiring mastery of breath.  Sony Walkmans and iPod and streaming music on YouTube or Spotify. Podcasts, interviews, sometimes a movie.

I’m not alone of course.

Just two shapes of lego blocks – words and music-  can, and do, created emotional rollercoasters for every human.  The love letter you write. Or receive.  (Perhaps not anymore, in these days of texts and ephemeral videos?) A song dedicated to a crush at a fete, saying the words you never would dare say to your crush in person. Sometimes, no words are required. The instruments draw out memories gathering webs in the corner of the mind, with every draw of the bow or flow of air through a reed. Or as happened this morning, listening to someone else read the words of a deeply personal letter from a father to his newborn son.

I’m truly grateful for the words, the music, the combinations of words and music. The only thing I’m more grateful for today are the people who in my life who turn 26 letters and 12 notes into a composition that is truly unique for me.

 

72 days ago, when I leapt headfirst into my 100 day experiment, I was feeling overwhelmed. This was too hard, it was taking a lot of time, ideas for writing were excruciatingly challenging to come up with, ad infinitum.  Pain was the predominant feeling/emotion. Consistency was not a feature until that point of time.

I have evidence now that 3 of the 5 things I listed are daily, enjoyable, system-building habits. I write in my journal, a little blog post, and have been doing Spencerian every day. Both my handwriting and my Spencerian calligraphy have improved. Words are easier to find in my mental drawers (and the Thesaurus helps when they’re not).  I’ve been reading a chapter a day of the 100 ways to improve your writing aloud, and with practice, training my voice and slowly improving the way I pronounce and enunciate words.

All of that takes no more than 30 minutes. Of late, I’ve been doing them before I start my working day. The sense of satisfaction allows me to then focus on helping other people succeed at work, or to tackle challenging circumstances with equanimity.

There are other areas of life I’d like to apply this same approach to.  Exercise is the overarching system, not merely walking.  Long term investments (money, people, ideas, etc) over focus on reviewing portfolio (financial, network, idea list).

There’s one habit I want to kick that has stayed with me over 25 years. No one notices it but me. I don’t wish to draw attention to it either. And on the eve of my 44th trip around the sun, it is time to retire the habit for a different one.