Just a last quick reminder that the Truth About Cancer Live Symposium will start in a few hours (8.30am EST, 1.30pm BST, 2.30pm CEST) and goes on from 5th to 7th October 2017:
These are pretty good events which you can watch for free.
You’ll pick up all sorts of helpful information about improving your health.
Breakfast with a butterfly, Zakynthos. Photo: B. Morgan
I’ve had some wonderful conversations with butterflies.
There was the time we took the tele-cabin from Grimentz to Bendolla and went for a walk in the mountains on a hot summer’s day.
A butterfly alighted on my hand and stayed for at least five minutes, exploring and obviously finding something of interest to consume.
Bendolla, 2008. Photo: B. Morgan
There was the time on the Greek island of Zakynthos when we went for an early swim and walked along the sandy beach.
As we reached the end, a beautiful swallowtail butterfly danced around us and then alighted on my collar, where it seemed perfectly happy to stay.
We ate breakfast on the terrace of a taverna just above the beach and during the whole time, the butterfly didn’t budge.
Eventually, about an hour later and well after we’d finished eating, it took off again as if refreshed after a snooze.
* * * * *
This week, I was at the lake for a swim and when I came out, an orange comma alighted on my purple backpack and seemed to fall in love with it.
I sat down beside it so I could study it more closely.
I was even able to encourage it on to my finger a couple of times as I wanted to get at something in the backpack.
It’s pretty amusing when they wander over your hand and arm producing a gently tickling sensation as they explore the new territory and even seem to find food on it.
And while I sat there another small blue butterfly arrived and stopped on the sand at my feet.
But what struck me as I played with this very beautiful creature for over half an hour is that really there is nothing more valuable in life than this.
Being in the moment.
Contemplating and conversing with a thing of beauty and wonderment.
A small angel.
What more could one want?
And it’s completely free.
Money has nothing to do with it.
A moment of complete pleasure where the ego has no place.
For Brigitte, who is Swiss, and probably for other non-native speakers of the language of Shakespeare, this is actually a very confusing statement.
“I can’t understand it at all,” Brigitte has said on many occasions.
Which is understandable.
Because we English often use the verb “have” to mean “eat,” as in “have breakfast” or “have a sandwich.”
So for her, it’s like saying, ” You can’t eat your cake and eat it.”
Which doesn’t make much sense.
If we choose another verb, such as “keep” then the idea behind this little gem of popular wisdom becomes clearer.
Now we have, “You can’t keep your cake and eat it.”
But it’s still nonsense.
After all, what are memories but things we have consumed that we keep?
* * * * *
On a visit to England last year, I had lunch with a friend and his mother, who is now well into her eighties.
“You can’t have everything,” she said.
And then she said it again.
And throughout the conversation, it came back again and again, like a kind of limiting mantra.
Eventually, I couldn’t let it pass.
“You can’t have everything,” she said.
“I don’t see why not,” I replied.
And later, when she said it again, I said, “I don’t see why not.”
It became quite funny.
We all chuckled.
* * * * *
These are the kind of limiting beliefs which make up our education and sometimes our lives.
But we can de-mask them.
Of course, if we say, “You can’t have everything,” or “You can’t have your cake and eat it,” enough, then it becomes a kind of truth for us and it’s very unlikely that we will have everything.
It’s important to keep the door open.
It might be difficult to “have everything,” which of course means different things to different people anyway, but it’s not impossible.
There is no objective reason why we shouldn’t have everything.
So what happens if we start to challenge all those unhelpful comments which surround and inhabit us.
“It’s normal that you do less as you get older,” a favourite of my mother’s.
Is it?
“You’ll never be a star.”
Why not?
“I’ll never be rich.”
Why not?
And so on.
I think we can push back the barriers at any age and our world will be brighter for it.
And if our world is brighter, then it will be brighter also for those around us.
I was talking to my mother on the phone this morning.
She’s just returned from a two night stay in hospital after collapsing in town.
She’s 91.
Fortunately, after undergoing a barrage of tests, there doesn’t seem to be any serious fundamental problem.
But she was talking about the hospital staff and how she couldn’t fault them and what long shifts they have and this has prompted me to write this post.
Because there’s something I can never understand about healthcare.
I think we can all agree that healthcare is one of the most important services available, if not the most important.
If you can think of a more important service, let me know.
So explain to me why, when it’s vital for workers in this field to be at their sharpest, as they are often making life or death decisions, and at their physical best in order to guarantee precision in surgery for example, do doctors and nurses often work ten hour shifts?
Your garagist doesn’t work a ten hour shift, so does that mean that repairing cars is more taxing than repairing humans?
In no other profession are there such long shifts, and yet in none of these professions is it so important not to make a mistake.
This is something I’ve never understood.
It’s an indication of the absurdity and mixed-up values of our modern world.
It seems to me that doctors’ and nurses’ hours ought to be shorter than other people’s in order to ensure that they can provide the best service possible, not longer than for anyone else.
After all, if you have to go to hospital, wouldn’t you like to know that the people overseeing your health are properly rested and in a fit mental and physical state to look after you properly?
I know I would.
But then, as Bob Dylan put it, “People are crazy and times are strange.”
The scratches of dissension (where the dust has been wiped off.)
In October 2016, I had a problem with a car rental company at Manchester Airport, England.
Now I rent a car several times a year and have done so for decades, but this was the first time I really had a problem with a car rental company.
When my wife and I returned the car, the checker would not close the agreement because of the scratches you can see in the above image on the rear left corner of the car where the dust has been wiped off.
We were subsequently billed £449.00 for the damage.
Yes, you read that correctly: four hundred and forty-nine pounds sterling. I once bought a car for that amount.
No invoice was sent. No justification for the amount was given. The amount was just charged.
I had seen the scratches on the car when we took possession of it at the beginning of the rental, but had deemed them so small as not to be worth reporting. A splash of dried mud also disguised them when I checked the car.
I was in any case absolutely sure that we had not caused them.
What to do in a situation like that?
Well, you can talk to the car rental company, of course.
I should say at this point that research on the internet revealed that this was standard practice for this particular company. I found a number of reviews where clients had been charged astronomical amounts for so-called damages by this same company, in England and elsewhere.
Naturally, they didn’t budge. My fault for not informing them of the damage to begin with.
The next thing you can do if your rental is in England is complain to the BVRLA (bvrla.co.uk), the British Vehicle Rental and Leasing Association by writing to complaint@bvla.co.uk. Other such associations exist on the continent and elsewhere, I imagine.
This was a disappointing experience as the gentleman I had contact with upheld the rental company in every particular.
The thing that really got me was that I was billed for damages without any proof that the repairs had been carried out or that the costs were real.
The gentleman at the BVLA informed me that there is no legal obligation for the rental company to repair the car.
Which is a bit like a licence to print money.
You charge the client as much as you like for damages that you never repair because the damages are so slight that you can continue renting out the car and who knows, maybe bill more clients for the same damages.
After all, would you bother to repair the damage to the car above?
Of course, you wouldn’t.
You wouldn’t even if it was your own car, the scratches are so insignificant. You might retouch with a little pot of paint but certainly no more than that.
And that got me to thinking.
I’d been charged for repairs that hadn’t been done.
And here we come to the real reason for this post.
What about opposing the charges with the credit card company, I thought?
In theory, a credit card transaction requires a service or a product transaction. I reasoned that as no product or service had been performed for this sum that I might be able to get the money back.
My credit card was credited with the amount and the car rental company was given forty-five days to justify the billing.
They never replied.
So I got my money back.
Now I do not guarantee that this will work for you or 100% of the time, but it’s worth bearing in mind if you run into similar problems.
A rare picture of me in a suit from 2009. Can’t remember the occasion….
Have you ever felt under-dressed next to someone in a suit, particularly if it’s a good one?
Well, there are a couple of ways of dealing with this.
You can quote Eleanor Roosevelt to yourself:
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
Good point, but not always easy to apply.
The other way is a little more subtle but I find it helpful.
After all, how many people choose to wear a suit?
Not many.
So at the end of the day, it’s just another UNIFORM that people have to wear.
It’s really no different from wearing a uniform for serving in a café, or dungarees for a garagist.
It may be made of cashmere, and hand-tailored at the fanciest shop in London, but ultimately it’s just a uniform.
So if you are wearing what you want, you’re actually much more fortunate than the guy wearing the suit.
You have the enormous power of freedom of choice.
He doesn’t. He has to keep up appearances.
So the next time you’re queuing up for coffee or standing in line at the bank and you feel someone looking down at you because he’s wearing a suit and you’re not, tell yourself that he’s just wearing a uniform.
Trust me, it turns the tables completely.
You may even find yourself feeling sorry for him.
May your life never become an endurance test!
My preferred ‘uniform,’ Mallorca 2008. Photo:B. Morgan
Exhibit A: my most expensive pair of pants which I bought last year for €20 in Riga, which is interesting because the average net wage in Latvia is €703 a month. As you can see the opening is for right-handed men. Of course!
If you are not a man and left-handed, then this post may have only limited interest for you.
But by all means, read on….
* * * * *
It sometimes takes a very long time for the penny to drop.
Do you know the sci-fi film ‘Gattaca?’
Well, you may remember the scene at the end where it transpires that the doctor Lamar has known all along that Vincent is not what he pretends to be.
And the reason:
“For future reference, right-handed men don’t hold it with their left. Just one of those things.”
It’s true.
Conversely, left-handed men don’t hold it with their right.
And I didn’t.
Until a couple of weeks ago.
* * * * *
If you are right-handed then you have no idea of the contortions we Southpaws make to fit into your regimented world.
Statistically, we are about 10% of the population.
It’s a bit like being a Mac in a world of PCs (just kidding!)
When my mother was a child, the teachers tried to force her to write with her right hand. She couldn’t.
Only when my grand-mother went down to the school and told them to stop messing with her daughter was the situation resolved.
But then we’ve always had a bad name.
The word ‘sinister’ comes from the Latin ‘sinistra’ meaning left.
An accident in French is called a “sinistre.”
I dare say many of us were burn as witches and warlocks in league with the devil during the middle ages.
And there are situations where a left-hander could be a bit of a liability.
Going back to the Romans, the success of the legion phalanx was dependent upon each man’s sword arm protecting the left of the soldier next to him. Imagine the chaos if you had left-handed soldiers in there as well.
* * * * *
Some adaptations are obvious, of course.
Like when you sit down at a computer and the mouse is on the right.
Or pick up a pair of scissors and the handle cuts into your fingers because it isn’t made for you.
Or a measuring beaker where you can’t see the measuring guide.
Or a guitar, piano, drumset and all those other things that simply aren’t made for US.
As a leftie, you get really good at lateralization, that’s for sure.
But the weirdest thing is that you get so used to adapting that if you buy something made specifically for a left-hander, you often can’t get it to work.
When I bought a fountain pen recently, I tried both right- and left-handed pens, but in the end I was happier and wrote better with the pen for righties.
Sometimes you can’t get a pair of left-handed scissors to cut because you’ve got so used to putting the pressure of the blades in the other direction with right-handed ones.
And controlling a computer mouse on the left takes an enormous amount of concentration to get anything done, the hand is so untrained for that sort of movement.
So we get very good at pretending to be right-handed.
So much so that we sometimes miss the obvious.
Which brings me back to the pants.
For some reason, the penny never dropped that pants are made for right-handed people too.
For me, they were just pants.
It took me 60 years to wake up to the fact that even pants make our lives more complicated.
Obviously, since the opening is on the right, it’s much easier to grab it with your right hand.
As a left-hander, you have to reach over the opening, back inside to the left, grab it and then push it out to the right.
It’s a movement like the mark of Zorro, but less swash-buckling.
Then as you pee, the pants are continually trying to close on you to the left and underside which has a tendency to compress the urethra and inhibit the flow.
So a couple of weeks ago, I started holding it with my right hand.
And what do you know?
Oh, joy! Oh, bliss!
It really is much simpler.
I suppose you can’t really have left-handed pants because the trouser zip is made for right-handers as well.
I did discover a site on the web where they sell pants for left-handers with a horizontal opening, but how successful these are, I don’t know.
But it does underline the degree to which we’ve unconsciously adapted to the right hand world.
Some adaptations I’ve taken on spontaneously.
Our hands are a bit like our eyes in that one tends to take care of precision work while the other is for general use.
I try to swap things around.
Bilateral movement is good for you. And it gets your brain to develop new pathways.
For example, turning a key in the lock is something that I would normally do with my left hand, but I’ve also trained myself to do it with my right, because locks too can end up in positions where only a rightie can open them.
Same with pouring a bottle of wine.
And there are events that push you to make an extra effort too.
I broke a bone in my left hand once and I was so appalled at how difficult it was for me to wipe my ass with my right hand after going to the toilet that I swore I’d never go through that again. So I practised until I reached a reasonable degree of dexterity with the right too.
These days the politically correct talk about discrimination against minorities all the time.
But I wonder how many people stop to consider the great minority of left-handed people and the extent to which we are discriminated against in our totalitarian right-handed society?
