It has been almost two weeks since I last blogged, and each time I think about writing I am distracted and my energy is directed elsewhere. Usually to my work... What a life is that? Well, it is not too bad - I do enjoy my work. But once more I find myself in a place where balance feels a million miles away. I miss the space to think about thinking and to learn about learning and to contemplate contemplating. I miss the freedom, hence my decision to juggle around some work 'stuff' to accommodate the work that is more fulfilling. It is always a risk to initiate change, but nothing ever changes without a little decisiveness. And decisions aren't ever made without a little risk.
I have spent the past couple of weeks working a lot on my tutoring and my research, and I also made a good/spontaneous decision to buy a wonderful new car - what a difference it makes to drive a new car after driving a 15 year old 'banger!' My old car breaking down has certainly acted as a great reminder of how important my independence is to me. The knowledge that I can independently get myself from A to B (often then to C to D...!) without having to rely on another person is surprisingly one of the most important things to me.
This morning (a Sunday morning...) has been spent preparing teaching material on the biological and psychological approaches to psychopathology; all far too deterministic for my sense of the world. Even the 'assumptions' which claim to be non-deterministic clearly are to some degree. Which of course, that is what we have science for - but isn't that the danger of any theoretical assumption, regardless of how individualistic and accommodating it wishes to be, it will always see a collective group for its similarities and it will prioritise the similarities over anything else when perhaps it might be nice to focus on the overlooked and under-appreciated 'everything else'... The rational part of us as human beings likes science and progress. And in order to balance that out, we have the beauty of our free and fluid part that is sometimes so very difficult to tame. It can be so loosely tied to the ground that it needs a little reassurance that the world isn't just meaningless and chaotic - that we can make sense of even the most abstract of concepts. That we can make sense of the nonsense.
Following a morning of making sense of the nonsense, I progressed to more making sense of a whole spiders web of information. I spent the afternoon sat in a coffee shop with my sister and my domestic violence research whilst scouring the internet for up to date and relevant literature about what is called CPV (child to parent violence) - heavy, but really quite an interesting subject, I am now wondering 'what next?' Perhaps what's next is simply nothing. I quite like that thought... I cannot stop listening to Paolo Nutini this evening, and it has put my mind in a fairly happy state and I really am pleased that I have given myself the very small gift of a little time to write - to write about writing. I am always torn between the concept of time as an illusion, and time as something so precious that it is always prioritised above all else. It determines so very much of our lives. I wonder if we didn't think about it as anything - if we just let it be, would it just be? Is that too care-free for a life that needs a little structure too?