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Showing posts from August, 2018

Dread Sigh At Night

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One snag about writing this blog is that the time when I think an article would be relevant, and the time when I get round to writing it, may not coincide much.   For example, a few weeks ago when we were having a heatwave and I was barely sleeping, I thought it would be a good idea to write an article on insomnia.   After all, there must be lots of people having the same problem, either because of the weather, or because they were worrying about their or their children’s exam results. I didn’t write it, for two reasons.   One was that I was too exhausted.   The other was that I was aware that any advice I might give about what to do if you can’t sleep, wasn’t actually working for me right now.   Still, with hindsight, I’d like to say a little about the notes I have made on this condition over the years.   If any of them are helpful for you next time you can’t sleep, that’s brilliant.   Alternatively, if you’ve found something that works better, I’d be grateful if you could tell

On Tor

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Life is a journey.   Some think that whichever path you choose is right for you.   Others will say, ‘Not all roads lead to God.’ Of course, they’re right.   Suppose lots of people all want to climb a mountain.   From any given spot at the foot of the mountain, most paths will lead away from it, rather than towards the summit. But for all that, there is no one set of instructions that is helpful for everyone.   A list of directions that begins, ‘Walk half a mile west along the road, take the footpath on your left leading south, and continue south-west to the summit,’ isn’t going to help you if you’re standing to the south of the mountain to start with.   You need to start by understanding where you are, in order to know which direction you want to move in. Then, you need to consider your level of fitness.   Are you a good enough climber to take the steep path going straight up, or do you need to take the longer, zig-zagging route?   It may look as though it’s going in th

Are They Really Toxic?

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Several of my friends are survivors of abuse.  Some were upper-class children who were raped at boarding-school, or beaten by their parents in affluent homes which few social workers would think of inspecting.  Others were working-class children who were neglected as babies, taken into ‘care’ and then ill-treated by foster carers or orphanage staff.  A few have managed, as adults, to forgive their parents and build some kind of relationship with them.  Others have regretfully concluded that, for their own survival, they have to cut off links with their family. Some of my friends feel that they have been abused in situations that were less clear-cut.  This often happens in the context of friendships or religious groups, and sometimes quite accidentally.  A is worried about B’s self-defeating behaviour and posts her a message warning of its likely consequences; B interprets the message as a threat from A, and refuses to speak to her again.  In a large town, churchgoers who have been h