Gordon

Dream Vacation

As we roll into summer (finally!) I’ve been pondering what my dream vacation would be, thinking back over previous holidays both home and abroad, and then lottery-win-daydreaming about what my ultimate vacation would be like.

It’s easy to roll out the 5-star, hell make it 6-star, experience as the greatest dream vacation. A car to pick us up and take us to the airport, no hanging around, waited on hand and foot, first-class seats-that-turn-into-beds on the flight, another car to whisk us to our hotel – our luggage would all be handled by someone else – and a room with large glass doors that opened on to an empty golden beach, palm trees, a beach side cocktail bar and warm blue waters beyond.

And perhaps it’s that simple, after all a dream vacation for me includes a lot of being pampered, being lazy and just chilling out and relaxing. It’s one of the reasons I’ve enjoyed the last two abroad holidays as they were all-inclusive.

But there is always the conflict, the part of me that wants to tackle a cycling holiday, or a walking holiday, or some other hybrid that would allow me to look back with a sense of accomplishment, a holiday that nourishes as much as nurtures.

Of course there are further considerations these days, how big is my carbon footprint and how much does flying to the other side of the world add to it? (says the man flying to Singapore later this year).

On the flip side I know the types of things I don’t want. I don’t want a Scottish/English/Irish bar. I don’t want ‘organised fun’, I’d rather not have hordes of screaming kids, and like many others I’d rather not be subjected too tourist-ey an environment.

So what is my dream vacation? How would I know?

Actually it’s pretty simple (like me). Gimme some place that is warm and sunny, that’s safe, that is ‘real’, and isn’t full of noisy, inconsiderate people and I’d be quite happy. I can take my music, read books, and generally chill out and I’m all good. If there a few things to do so much the better.

Be it Brighton or the Bahamas, Saint Tropez or Skye, as long as I’m with someone I love I don’t really care about much else.

June 11, 2015

The Good No

I like to think I’m pretty helpful. It’s nice to be nice and all that, and I enjoy the connection it makes, even if it’s only for a fleeting moment; holding a door open and receiving a smile, helping push a broken down car, chasing after someone to give them their dropped glove.

If you are like me you will tend to say yes when someone asks for help. After all, what’s 2, 10, 15, 30 mins of your life in the grand scheme of things, of course I can help…

Being helpful is nice, isn’t it? That little boost of karma and the associated good feels are a wonderful reward. The world seems brighter, birds sing louder and the sun feels that little bit warmer on your face! Saying yes is TOTES OSSUM AMAZEBALLS, FACT!

Except that isn’t always how it turns out, is it.

The few times that “yes” actually gives you those warm fuzzies seem too few and far between, and I’ll admit that there are many times I really wish I had said no.

So I’ve been trying to be more aware and, as I’ve slowly pared back and simplified my life over the past few years, saying no has become A Thing That I Do. I’m still not very good at it but I am finding that saying no is helping me create mental space and balance. It doesn’t always involve someone else, saying no can be an internal decision – no, I won’t go to that event, screw you FOMO – or a part of an discussion with someone else – no, I can’t help you with that piece of work because then I’ll compromise my own commitments. The latter remains the harder of the two for me (the former isn’t always simple either).

I don’t find saying no to others an easy thing. It’s seen as negative, a commentary on the person rather than the act or favour, some people take “Sorry, no” as a diss, a slur on their character. What power that tiny word holds. But why does it carry so much weight?

My guess is that it’s down to my old friend, expectation. If someone asks for help there is a weight of expectation, they’ve put themselves out there, taken the brave step of asking for help so of course you have to say yes! How could you dare say otherwise? What an affront that would be to the the emotional energy they’ve used and the effort they’ve just put themselves through!

I read the following article a few weeks ago and it’s stuck in my head (and prompted this blog post) – Ways to Say ‘No’ More Effectively

“One of our most fundamental needs is for social connection and a feeling that we belong,” Dr. Bohns says. “Saying ”no“ feels threatening to our relationships and that feeling of connectedness.” And we worry that saying “no” will change the way the other person views us, and make him or her feel badly.

Sadly, it often does hurt feelings. “No” is a rejection. Neuroscience has shown our brains have a greater reaction to the negative than to the positive. Negative information produces a bigger and swifter surge of electrical activity in the cerebral cortex than does positive information. Negative memories are stronger than positive ones. All of this is to protect us: A strong memory of something hurtful helps us remember to avoid it in the future.

Even so, psychologists say, most people probably won’t take our “no” as badly as we think they will. That’s because of something called a “harshness bias” — our tendency to believe others will judge us more severely than they actually do. “Chances are the consequences of saying ”no“ are much worse in our heads than they would ever be in reality,”

So, part of being able to say no, a ‘good no’, is to understand that it’s not as bad and awful as we think. Simply put, saying no doesn’t carry as much weight as I think it does.

If nothing else, having this in mind should make saying no, for the right reasons, a little bit easier in the future.

June 8, 2015

16 years of thanks

16 years is a long time and I’ll admit I’ve been looking back at the history of this blog, reading old posts and finding that it’s a fairly accurate depiction of my own journey. Obvious, I know, but given that there is so much I don’t write about, the blog posts I have published act as a signpost for my memory.

It has sparked further contemplation about my past and, on the whole, it’s been a positive experience to revisit the links and connections I’ve made throughout my life that still hold true today. They are few, but they are strong.

I’m forgetful and can be a little too focused on moving forward, looking ahead and making plans. I’m also not blessed with much sentimentality, although I can be a bit of a sop at times, so tend to lose sight of emotional connections and the value I gain from having other people in my life.

I can generalise this even further; life for me is typically about what’s happening next, not looking back at the what ifs.

But the past is what it is and I acknowledge that without it I wouldn’t be who I am today. That said, as time goes on I naturally find myself distanced from the painful times, and I feel like I am finally comfortable that what lies behind me isn’t shaping the path ahead. I am not beholden to the dark clouds of my history.

Sometimes it’s good to pause, to look around at where you are, live life in the present, and as I look at my life today I realise just how lucky I am, and I have a lot of people to thank for that.

This post is a thank you to all of the following, who are listed chronologically purely because it’s the only fair way to do it. They’ve all meant more to me than I’ve probably told them (something I have gotten better at but I still need to work on).

First up, my parents for bringing me up to learn, to challenge, to be tolerant and challenge prejudice. For helping me when I needed it and for always being supportive, understanding and caring. It’s only now, as I approach middle-age (I’m in denial, shut up) that I realise how blessed I was to have them as parents…

…then they went and brought my sister into the world. I’m massively over-protective of her and in return she keeps me grounded just by being her wonderful, caring, ditzy self. We have many attributes alike and as we both get older it feels like we are growing closer, mostly because we are realising that we aren’t that much different from our parents and can revert to our childhood relationship in the blink of an eye. Hey, I’m a big brother, I’m SUPPOSED to wind her up!

My ex-wife Louise is next; I’ve known her for half my life and when we were together we experienced wonderful highs and brutally crushing lows. From her I learned the values of family and patience, and how to properly load a dishwasher (in-joke). Part of me remains sad it didn’t work out but I am glad we parted on good terms and remain friends to this day.

Speaking of friends – Stuart, Keith, Ian and William are mine – a constant source of laughter, support, ridicule, and beer. Our shared history grows richer even though we don’t see enough of each other. I take great comfort that whenever we are together, nothing really changes. They are my brothers, through thick and thin.

My girlfriend Kirsty. Part of me wishes I’d met her sooner. Despite only being together for a few years it feels like we’ve journeyed so so far. She has helped me get to know the real me, challenged me to be better, held me when I failed, and allowed me to support her and be part of her life. She is more amazing than she ever seems to realise and continues to surprise me. I know I wouldn’t be as happy as I am today without her.

My girlfriend Clare. When we first met I think both of us were a little caught out by how easy it seemed to be, how quickly we clicked. We may only have been together for a couple of years (almost) but she has helped me understand and embrace parts of my personality that I didn’t fully appreciate. I am lucky to be a part of her life.

And finally, but certainly not least, YOU dear reader.

I’ve made many friends in the 16 years I’ve been blogging, connections transferred from blogcircles to twitter, through blogmeets to weddings and beyond. I feel very lucky to still be in touch with so many people who all came together because of this strange hobby on the wonderfully weird world of the web.

Thank you, thank you, thank you all. I know I wouldn’t be me, without you.

I’ll stop now as I appear to have some dust or something in my eye…

June 3, 2015

16 years old

Every year this gets a bit scarier to admit.

16 years ago the internet was a small place, hand crafted HTML ruled the waves, and the surf was more a gentle swell than the tsunamis we now have to negotiate whenever we dip our toes.

Even now I’m still not sure how much of this hobby is vanity, how much is curiosity, how much is a desire for validation, nor how much it’s just because I can. It’s never been a focus, and that’s probably why I still do it.

I published my first piece of writing 16 years ago today.

That means, in the UK, my blog can now, in no particular order:

Drink beer or cider with a meal in a pub or hotel, but still can’t buy it.
Fly a glider.
Have sex, gay or straight, as long as the other blog is also 16+.
Join the armed forces.
Earn the minimum wage.
Choose a doctor.
Get married (with parental consent).

All of which is really, really weird.

June 2, 2015

Is Saturation Good or Bad?

Poly Means Many: There are many aspects of polyamory. Each month, the PMM bloggers will write about their views on one of them. Links to all posts can be found at www.polymeansmany.com.

I’m going to try and write this month’s Poly Means Many piece without using the word that I think best sums up my approach to the topic of poly saturation because I’ve already dedicated an article to my thoughts on that topic. It begins with a b and ends in alance, but I’m not going to use that word here.

So, this month we are writing about saturation – is it just me or does at hint at lascivious activities? The dictionary definition includes: soaked, impregnated, or imbued thoroughly; charged thoroughly or completely; brought to a state of saturation.

Oh my.

That said, saturation also has a slightly negative connotation, as it’s frequently coupled with over, and as we all know, to be over saturated is not a good thing.

Of course when we apply the word saturation to polyamory, which itself is the notion of being able to love more than one person and suddenly the word saturation seems out of place, after all there is no such thing as ‘too much love’, right?

Love = relationships, regardless of how they are defined (and we should probably write about that word in the future, “relationships” will be a rich vein of thinking) so you could say, on the purest level, that it can’t be right that one person could have too many relationships, too much love.

But of course there are other constraints to a relationship, other reasons why someone who is poly may feel saturated, so I guess the real question I need to be asking myself is, how do I know?

Do I have too many relationships? Do I want to have more relationships than I can handle? How many is too many? How many is not enough?

As with most of these things, there is no one size fits all response. At present I have two relationships and have pondered, on and off, whether I could manage another, or for that matter if I even want another.

Being open about my poly lifestyle may help my own mindset, it may allow for a third wholly casual relationship (which may allow me to explore some other things my current partners can’t offer me) which itself would bring additional pressures on my current relationships both in terms of availability (time) and dealing with any New Relationship Energy (NRE) that would inevitably occur

And that’s all before finding someone who is happy with a casual relationship… and weirdly presumes that you can permanently keep a relationship in a single state. It’s no wonder my mind continues to churn.

Looking forward there are a myriad of thoughts to be considered and discussed both with myself and my partners and, as ever, that communication will help me see whether adding ‘one more’ to my current lifestyle is even feasible, let alone desirable.

Add in the other parts of my life, work, Yelp events, ISTC website development, holidays, getting to the gym more often, even down to the basics of keeping my flat tidy and other boring household chores… and yeah it might even come down to a matter of time, perhaps I am already happily saturated as it is.

Or perhaps the fact I even have to consider whether I am, or not, suggests that, at least emotionally, I feel that I still have some room in there for someone else?

Ultimately I’m not stressing about my current relationships, nor about whether I want/need another. These days the main advantage of being poly is one that I’ve not yet utilised, far from being in a place where saturation is an issue, I’m just enjoying the fact that being poly allows for that situation to arise naturally. The opportunity is there whether I force it (and seek out someone new) or it happens naturally and, for me, that’s a welcome balance to try and strike.

Dammit, I was trying to avoid that “b” word!

June 1, 2015

The Wait

He sits down and carefully places the cold glass on the table. He squirms on the wooden chair, trying to get comfortable as he slowly looks around, taking in the clientele as some vaguely hip electronica burbles from the speaker above his head. He wonders if he’s chosen the best seat, the window offers a view of the street and the distractions outside.

He takes a sip of beer, he’s on his second already, pulls his phone from his pocket and completes the modern ritual of those who live in this always-on connected world. He disconnects from everyone around him as he checks messages, emails, delving into social media this and status updates that as he whiles away the time which is slowly, ohhhh so slowly, creeping forward.

Bored, listless, he puts the phone down and once again surveys the room. Nothing has changed since he entered.

The music changes and his gaze shifts to the window and the view beyond. He watches a couple, deep in frantic conversation, slowly walking past, a teenager peeks out from beneath her hood as she strides forward, determination on her face and lurid green headphones clamped to her ears, a woman at the end of her working day heads home to her children and inside the pub the man wonders about the excitement that will bloom on their faces when she arrives at her destination and reveals the contents of that bulging Toys R Us bag.

The door to the bar is pushed open, a figure framed in the frosted glass for a moment. A man enters the bar and across the room a flicker of recognition becomes a smile as his friend rises to greet him once more.

May 28, 2015