So I thought I would continue the thread of yesterday's discussion and develop it a bit more. I had so many messages after I wrote about us all being an enigma. So I thought that today we could have the Enigma Variations (a little classical music joke there). I really appreciate all the messages (yes even those from you Chris P). It's good to know that so many people feel the same way. I suppose inwardly we are all unsure about ourselves, our relationship with others and the way we are perceived.
I have always believed that everyone is different and everyone has to be treated as an individual. The important thing is identifying what makes different people tick. Who is putting on a front hiding sadness, who needs support etc?
In my years of coaching youth football I came to realise that all my young players were different. Some needed to be cajoled, others needed to be encouraged. The skill was working out which was which. I had one youngster (I won't embarrass him by giving his name so let's call him Steve). Steve gave me 100% effort every match. In fact at times he put in so much effort that he went red in the face and had to be taken off because he couldn't get his breath.
Shout at Steve and it is likely he would have burst into tears. Encourage him and he would give you everything. I guess I saw myself in him as well. I respond to kindness and the thought that we are all in this together - whether that be life, work or anything else. You will probably all have been in a situation where this has been patently untrue. Take work for instance. Everyone should be working as a team, everyone should be trying to achieve the same aims (whatever they may be). But there are always character and personality clashes that detract from those aims and that teamwork.
Put bluntly certain situations can prevent you from being yourself. I like to think that I have a handle in some ways on my own character. I know what makes me feel good and what makes me feel bad. I know what gives me enjoyment in life. But I have been in a work situation where I felt pretty useless and wasn't giving my best in any way, shape or form. The people working with me probably viewed my leadership qualities as poor but I now realise that I was probably suffering burnout.
Burnout is a terrible thing. It distorts your whole life and almost takes over your existence. Panic attacks are similar. I know people who have panic attacks and cannot face doing even the most basic things. I have only suffered panic attacks twice in my life (thankfully) and they were both car related. But it did make me realise that panic attacks can lead to brain freeze and a total inability to cope.
I don't enjoy driving much. I could happily live without a car. Walking 1,500 miles this year rather illustrates this. Having said I don't like driving, I have driven in many European countries including France, Italy, Spain, Germany, Portugal and many more. I have driven extensively in the USA and also in New Zealand. Both panic attacks came in the USA. The first was in Washington DC and, looking back, is now rather amusing.
We went on a trip from Maryland around the Baltimore Beltway and into Arlington Cemetery to see the eternal flame at the grave of John Fitzgerald Kennedy and also to have a tour of the cemetery which was fascinating.
On the way back we obviously turned in the wrong direction. But never fear, my darling wife had a map which was marked with regular incidences of the letter M. She took this to be Metro stations. But the map didn't seem to help as we found ourselves going more and more into the heart of the capital. We ended up on a six lane highway at rush hour following a map that seemed to be continually taking us in the wrong direction and without any hope of turning around. It did help when we found out that the map didn't indicate Metro Stations but MacDonald's restaurants!
After that things did improve and we were able to work our way back onto the beltway and into the country. I just managed to make it to a rest area (known over here as a lay-by) before I threw up at the side of the road.
My only other panic attack was in Philadelphia - again in heavy traffic. I got to a point where my brain couldn't take anymore. I stopped the car and just couldn't go on. Eventually did get going after a break.
Mind you I've had a few hairy driving experiences - like the time I went the wrong way down a road in Portland, Oregon and had to do a sharp U-turn just before traffic came at me. That time I didn't panic. If you have ever seen the film Mr Holland's Opus you will see why we laughed out loud when he goes the wrong way down a road in Portland.
But back to our perceptions of people. I feel since I have been writing this blog that I have made friends with people I have never met and reconnected with many people I knew but had lost contact with.
I am hoping in the not too distant future to meet up with one of my avid readers (no names again as they will know who they are). I am looking forward to this immensely but am concerned that this person is expecting me to be something I may not be able to fulfil. They may feel I'm not as serious as my blogs or maybe I'm not as funny as my blogs or I'm not really what they expected. All these doubts rise in me again because I so want to make a good impression.
Many years ago when I was working for the police, we had an annual conference in different parts of the country. These always ended with a gala dinner (a Penguin suit job - I hate wearing dinner suits and no longer possess one). These dinners usually had a celebrity speaker of some kind. I remember the Chief Constable of the Royal Ulster Constabulary Sir Ronnie Flanagan telling us with a straight face that he lived with a hooker.
"But before you all rush to tell the Sun newspaper, I have to explain that the hooker is my son who plays rugby for Belfast, " he said.
For those not into rugby - a hooker is the person stupid enough to play in the middle of the front row of the scrum. I guess the term comes from the fact that they hook the ball backwards at scrums. I used to play in that position at grammar school because I was the smallest. I've no idea why the smallest person has to play there and I don't think that's the case anymore. The problem with playing hooker is that if the scrum collapses you end up on the bottom of a pile of sweaty and muddy oafs.
Anyway on the occasion I'm talking about the guest speaker, who was very amusing, was Colin Dexter who wrote the Inspector Morse novels. He started off "apologising to the ladies" for not being what they expected. He thought they were expecting a George Clooney lookalike and only got somebody who looked more like Charlie Drake (his words not mine).
Anyway I think I will leave the musings there before I get into trouble.
* * *
Yesterday I did a five mile walk in a figure of eight around our village. It took me past the book suppository as it always seems to do. The book suppository is an open shed like structure where people leave and take books. It seems to have branched out into CDs and DVDs. Have you noticed how DVDs and CDs are now pretty worthless? I know a charity shop where you can get five CDs for £1 and four DVDs for £1. This is good news for people who still play them now that they are cheap as chips. Actually they are cheaper. A small chips on Norwich market is £1.20.
Anyway from the book suppository I found a couple of books from 1962 by Nikolaus Pevsner. Born in Germany, he was an art and architectural historian who produced (amongst many other things) a series of books on the buildings of England. So I picked up his volumes on North East Norfolk and Norwich (one volume) and North West and South Norfolk (one volume).
I watched the travel series featuring Michael Portillo who pranced around the country with his old Bradshaw's Railway books in his hand. There's something very satisfying about prancing around the countryside with an old book. So I will be taking my Pevsner's with me when I'm around Norfolk this spring and summer. I think he used loads of people to help construct these guides and some of the descriptions are in a kind of shorthand that makes them difficult to read but I must persevere.
* * *
Finally today, when I'm on my walks I invent games. Does anyone else play stone golf? It's a simple game. When you see a stone on a path instead of de-liberating it (see a previous blog) you give it some wellie with your foot, hitting it in the general direction of the nearest drain. You then see how many shots it takes to get it down the drain. I'm sure this isn't good for the stones or the drains but it keeps me amused.
* * *
And that as the chef said to his assistant is shallot for the day.
PS. Another reader will be laughing when they read about the book suppository as I mentioned this before and she pointed out it should be depository and a suppository is something you stick up your backside. I still claim suppository is more appropriate.