Seasons Greetings: scintillating pinpricks of joy leaven 2012’s concluding chronicle, a damp Albion pervading, but I’m still here in my bubble! 

Almost five decades of memorable mid-winter festivities survived; reflections on events (at the bottom-you'll have to wait), memories of loved ones that have passed on, friendships honed or ended, new beginnings, opportunities rising-taken up or discarded; Grianstad an Gheimhridh is the rarely used Celtic celebration of the solstice, often dramatised by shafts of the dawn light striking the depths of caves, announcing the new year, growth not decay, spring after bleak midwinter, of course as a recovering addict I don’t wake up like a ‘Blackened Thront’ !

I have recently learned from my ‘sick pay’ managers that they do not expect me to return to ‘work’ for another year-so another year of living on £10 a day. One alternative, that of ‘jails, institutions or death’- relapsing - does not appeal; my gratitude to my adored sister, Annie, for her role in getting me into recovery cannot be exaggerated - the doctors said I would not have lived much longer, not that the ‘life’ I had was of any value - and her continued support is invaluable, especially considering other, more important, pressures on her. Renewal and rebirth works, not repetition other than at a cellular level, I truly believe my journey through recovery is an example of looking forward with hope, noting but not dwelling on past misdeeds. Amends have been made, where possible, to all affected by my drunkenness, and even though some have chosen to ignore my ameliorative advances or possibly misunderstood them, I again offer my sincere, unreserved apologies.

The upside of being ‘off sick’ for another year is being able to continue my work with youths and young adults with special needs. The joy of witnessing: an 'imprisoned in their mind' ASD mortal realising they can 'drive' a boat, the calmness of a higher level ASD soul watching the water and 'their mermaids', the incredulity of an EBD cocooned soul allowed to control a boat, the realisation of the excluded that they can do things without guards present; it's quite incredible. Often it is quiet comments that hit home hardest, one guy mentioned we were the first people he had ever spoken to that were not paid to be with him (he's in a very small 'secure' unit), how is he supposed to cope with becoming adult? He is, by the way, very bright, probably a savant.

The local college has accepted me onto a level 3 (≈ A level) Special Educational Needs course but funding issues will take ages to sort out - I am overqualified again! - so my head will continue to ache from banging against the brick wall of blinkered cronyism. 10 months of targeted voluntary work still hasn’t resulted in a job offer but some glimmers of hope are there, typically an addict in recovery takes 18 months or so to find employment, so whilst frustrated I will keep going in the planned direction, I'm a navigator.

Now back to the memories of past Grianstad an Gheimhridh: chucking a $ billionaire off a charter yacht on xmas day for upsetting my crew (I wasn't even reprimanded by the owner or agent!); New Years Eve at Basils Bar (Mustique-lobster) watching Princess X dancing on her table right next to us - wondering aloud with Lu where the security guards kept their guns (silently reprimanded by a 'stare'); Singapore & Hong Kong for my 17th; sleeping rough for my 19th; Church Farm, Boarstall, Esher and USA for huge family dinners; Storm Force conditions deep sea (no tree!); Missions to Seamen in Hamburg docks, extremely simple but the comradeship of the sea; numerous others of note; and this winter solstice, the seventh in a row with no partner at all, no kisses & cuddles, celibacy suits me, I prefer it - no nasty belittling. 

Grianstad an Gheimhridh this year will be with a friend's family for the day, a family that has had more than their fair share of tribulations but still offered hospitality to me, a stranger, co-incidently an archaic Arab tradition - now, apparently, discarded. No Christmas Eve midnight church choral service as, according to friends in a large, well attended C of E congregation, there aren't any here in Bristol - not traditional anyway. 

All 'best wishes' and 'seasons greetings' cards have been sent by Facebook and e-mail (with links to this blog, it's open share) as the only time I use snail mail is to contact those with cyberphobia.

May your gods be with you all.

Predominantly a carnivorous Jainist inlaid with Christian ethics and morals I sporadically muse upon archaic religions etc. with Wikipedia et al. such as the Mithraic Mysteries. Personally imperfectly polytheist, selectively theist, my progenitorial quiddity is this hopefully scintillating colloquy. Be aware I execrate fugacious and enduring elitist expenditure; from pyramids to temples to bishop’s palaces to...monuments to mammon, self glorification and the emperor's clothes. Popes, Rabbis, Imams etc. do not need a ‘Vatican’,‘Temple’ or ‘Masjid al-Quba’ on ‘the mount’ etc. just any oratory.

Analogically: Judaism, Islam and Christianity, the three great Abrahamic religions, are themselves derivations of Indo-European doxologies ritualised following the successful ‘Out of Africa’ migration; my c.8,000th great grandparents were probably Celts, possibly Corieltauvi as ancestral Kenningtons tended to a settled subculture, implicitly pre-Christian descendants of the successful ‘Out of Africa’ migrants.

The Corieltauvi were a tribe living, prior to the Romans, in what is now Lincolnshire, largely agricultural people who had few strongly defended sites or signs of centralised government appearing to have been a federation of smaller, self-governing tribal groups (I like that). Druids, their ‘priests’ (sorcerers some say), derived much of their beliefs from ancient Indo-European cultic practices such as the Mithraic Mysteries, implicitly pre-Christian (can you see where I’m going with this?).

Mithra is the archaic Persian divinity of covenant and oath, an all-seeing protector of Truth, and the guardian of cattle, the harvest and of The Waters. He is undeceivable, infallible, eternally watchful, and never-resting (his attention to acolytes wellbeing is not mentioned); his stock epithet is "of wide pastures" (no cities-excellent) so as guardian of the waters he ensures that those pastures (and veg.patches) receive enough of it (Mithra-the farmer’s steward).  

Together with Rashnu "Justice" and Sraosha "Obedience", Mithra is one of the three judges at the Chinvat bridge, the "bridge of separation" that all souls must cross, but unlike Sraosha, Mithra is not a psychopomp (pity, they’re associated with whip-poor-wills). The Mithraic Mysteries were originally celebrated in caves not temples. Few, if any, initiates came from leading aristocratic or senatorial families (e.g.nabobs) until the 'pagan’ (!) revival of the mid 4th century but even then there were considerable numbers of freedmen and slaves (nicely egalitarian), initiates kept their hands pure from everything that brings pain and harm (letting agnostics crucify infidels?) and is impure (bless, no bacon butties then). The Thebaid  an epic poem by Statius, pictures Mithras in a cave, wrestling with something that has horns (getting the barbie meat obviously but not pork).

Plutarch says that "the secret mysteries of Mithras" were practiced by the pirates of Cilicia who were active in the 1st century BC (contemporaries of the Corieltauvi). Plutarch also mentions that the pirates were especially active during the Mithridatic wars in which they supported the king (privateers not pirates maybe, good strategy). The association between Mithridates and the pirates is also mentioned by Appian similarly the English ‘pirates’ (renamed privateers when supporting Good Queen Bess with their booty, otherwise hung) strategically associated with royalty .

Mithra suited my recent progenitors so suits me, I’m adding him to my ever expanding divinities, which still prioritises theoretical physics-the Big Bang etc. May your gods be with you.

PS. Plutarch also mentions a group, within the Corieltauvis, of small, Asian looking, people well integrated-I marvel at such travellers and wonder what tales they must have told.

Winter: Biscay, Trafalgar, Fitzroy; South Westerly (Violent) Storm Force 11 (Exceptionally high waves (37–52 ft, 11.5–16 m). Very large patches of foam, driven before the wind, cover much of the sea surface. Very large amounts of airborne spray, severely reduced visibility)...
Increasing South Westerly (Brobdingnagian) Force 12; (left) 
“Midshipman Kennington on the bridge SAH”. Sixteen years old, homeward bound, full of beans-even in a gale I still had a ‘full english’ served on china plates by my Kowloon steward, in full uniform of course, the only concession to the ships antics was to dampen the white linen tablecloth!- and almost transfixed by the majesty of the phenomenal seas I staggered to my station by the telegraph to take up my duty of recording every order, comment and observation for use in the marine investigation that would surely follow if we got back to Liverpool.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday” heard over the VHF radio means someone is in very, very serious trouble close by, maybe only a few hours away, and the law of the sea (and most countries) is to go to their aid but could we actually get there?

We had already upset, literally and emotionally, the galley when we, the deck officers, forgot to tell them we were altering course to heave to. We had been running with the seas on the port quarter (giving us a long, slow comfortable roll-20o to port across to 30o to starboard plus an associated bow up/bow down pitch of course) when the Old Man wisely chose to heave to. He had given the bridge watch the order to alter course to port having, in a seamanlike manner, waited for a ‘calm’ moment i.e. guessed, BUT DIDN'T TELL ANYONE ELSE. The chefs and stewards had been setting up for the next meal, china plate of course-we were British Merchant Navy, like The Royal Navy but superior- when soporific rolls (it’s like being in a gently swinging hammock once you get used to it) changed to prodigious drubbing ones.

The first thing that happens in a fast turn to windward is the ship leans out of the turn, in this case out to starboard, then the wave crests (60’+) start pushing at right angles to the superstructure, to starboard, resulting in the roll to windward, to port, being almost zero but to leeward, to starboard...well...let’s say I can still visualise, 40 years later, the chef ninjaing his way onto the bridge, covered in broken china flakes, screaming dockside Mandarin curses, to go nose to nipple with The Old Man, it was much, much, better than any Grimsby Dock fishwives fight. The Old Man actually cowered, blenching, behind his precious throne (bridge chair).

Back to “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday” (another one), The Old Man deliberated, waiting hopefully for somebody, anybody, closer to rush to save some souls...two did. Same happened a few times then a couple of days later “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday”, this time we were close enough... we altered course to the north...the chef came back to the bridge...we ate off paper party plates for the rest of the trip.

Has the universe existed forever? Serendipity sways today - I had just finished this, an experiment in a simple visual conception of a core, long standing, mathematically based belief of mine,


Then this popped up in my inbox: ‘AS BIG questions go, it's hard to beat. Has the universe existed forever?.....(some) have argued that the opposite must be true - something must have happened to bring the cosmos into existence....earlier (this) year, cosmologists Alex Vilenkin and Audrey Mithani claimed to have settled the debate. They have uncovered reasons why the universe cannot have existed forever....Roger Penrose and Stephen Hawking were two young theorists at the University of Cambridge. Their work showed that if you reversed the expansion of the universe, it is impossible to avoid reaching a point known as a singularity, where physical parameters such as density and temperature skyrocket to infinity. Crucially, physics breaks down at a singularity making it impossible to predict what lies on the other side. According to Penrose and Hawking, the big bang must truly be the beginning...Our universe is inside one such bubble that appeared in a big bang 13.7 billion years ago...’ New Scientist 03/12/12


Just a thought as we approach the Christian celebration of the birth of the prophet of one of the three religions tracing their origins to Abraham-Islam, Judaism and Christianity .

We’ve got mice in the house, but why have they gone to the third floor 1st? Otherwise SNAFU, ~ is floating on air with her beau,~~ is just floating-don’t know why, ~~~has floated off into his own reality, * is now an utter kvetch, ** has always been in her own reality, ! is now a reporter, !! is just !!! and I’m not sure who ‘me’ is.

A Chandos post states ‘Lectures Thurs ongoing rota with Deborah Clarke and some other keynote speakers! 1-2 pm, starting this week, all welcome... this is part of the new Chandos paperwork party, tick box descriptions of what has always been the Chandos way using jabberwocky so social service managers can fill in their jobsworth folders: some bullet points are; Assertiveness, Anger Management, Diversity, Diet/nutrition, Role of complementary therapy, spirituality, decision making, Endings, Sex/love? Citizenship, what is addiction? Mutual aid,’ (sic). A denizens charter, an adepts aphoristic compendium, mere blatherskite-results, it works, why waste the therapists time doing paperwork unless it’s cheaper than helping addicts, just a sepulchral thought.

Composing these sporadic pamphlets over days, not hours, often synchronises apparently asynchronous events. I crafted the above a couple of days ago, yesterday I was reprimanded for not being ‘chilled’ enough to train at the Domino Effect Project, so I have disburdened myself of training for them any more. I must protect my serenity, to peregrinate without goosestepping, possibly involving myself with Chandos, my alma mater.
My team leader called at 10.12 this morning for a friendly update, my paymaster messaged me at 10.54 to arrange a chat - synchronicity?

Almost an hour talking with Beth, an eminently sensible occupational therapist, has left an interesting conundrum: if I return to any form of paid employment I lose my abode; if I don’t comply with reasonable demand from my claim manager I lose the £10 per day I have to live on; if I don’t keep myself occupied I lose my sanity and relapse.  “Insa.” One of Arabic’s beautifully expressive idioms, the word means essentially, “That’s life.” We have agreed to a very, very gentle approach to my return to work. It’s only a couple of months since I last had a ‘proper’ panic attack - pissing myself in public.

'I may not be rich, but I am valuable. I don't pretend to be someone I'm not, because I'm good at being me. I might not be proud of some of the things I've done in the past, but I am proud of who I am today. I may not be perfect, but I don't need to be. Take me as I am, or watch me as I walk away' anon. echoes of my feelings this pm. TTFN

Personalities continue to fascinate me, I have always been a people watcher, an adherent to Queen Elizabeth’s motto "video et taceo", ‘I saw and said nothing (at the time)’, a coryphaeus in the shadows. A recent (non-fellowship) preliminary meeting’s objective was squashed by a loudmouth’s opinion, some simply recoiled, others, more assertive, politely retreated mid sentence. Fellowship meetings on the other hand do not permit verbal interruptions, although glares are sufficiently fierce to cause strategic disentanglement, so lightning fast retorts are required to air one’s views, pity the hesitant and the quietly spoken.

Interjections are necessary in conversation these days, if one does not ride roughshod over another’s homily then one cannot express a viewpoint. Listen to the Radio 4 Today show, watch the BBC Newsnight program and note how often the ‘interviewer’ bullies his or her ‘guest’ (replace with interrogator & respondent); the bully will always interrupt-I just heard a classic, respondent ‘....on your previous piece...a few minutes ago...she said...’ interrupted by bully ‘tell us what she said now, come on’. I’m not saying that a ‘lone voice in the wilderness’ should be favoured -he/she/they can post on social media- but that it is possible to be polite and robust simultaneously. Meetings are no different.

Addictive personalities appear to replace a cacoethes for a substance with a compulsion for a rite, frequently plural, we are always right of course (not). Illustrations: the rostrum of a crack house replaced by that of fellowship meetings, bars by coffee shops, the ritual of self injection by tea ceremonies, an eating disorder by a precision diet, self-harm by cool. Abnegation of our addiction is only possible when accompanied by a replacement activity, ofttimes ‘bigging up’ in the gym and/or lotions and potions. Moderation by inculcation is oxymoronic, didactics successful but require especial shepherds to cause a metamorphosis of addict to citizen.

Aspiring to replicate my shepherds’ examples with originality is my intent, some messiahs promote their way of life using absolutes -x thousand lives ‘saved’ through dogma- percentages are bleaker. If abstinence is the parameter then of all young adults; 7% are in addiction (Office of National Statistics), of that 7% that go through recognized treatment fewer than 20% are abstinent after a year. The pattern continues year on year, commonly quoted figures ignore the fact that most addicts die young so distorting age related percentages. I am a rare example of a 57 year old alcoholic (surviving 40 years of addiction using the fellowship definition or 10 years using the medical definition) still abstinent after a year, my relapse is 98.5% guaranteed.

Self knowledge with perception of those around me has given me the notion, despised by some, that each of us must dare to challenge, to peregrinate without goosestepping, to make our own bed and lie in it.

I can feel my feet for the first time in 18 months! My toxic neuropathy retreats. Headache chronic still but much better, Yeay!

WESSA (the West of England School Sailing Association) is still my focus, it is the epicenter of boating in Bristol Harbour for the disadvantaged, and will remain so until I get paid work as a support worker (see Proem). Society in the guise of managers will cogitate leisurely I am sure, I’ve now emailed every SEN and ‘special’ school in Bristol to introduce myself but without any useful results. Patience with managerial protocol is not a personal trait but probably advisable at this time, the BBC’s DG has just resigned less than 2 months in post, lack of managerial protocol is blamed-surely if the DG resigns then all in the chain from Newsnight to DG are responsible- oh, I forgot, ‘Mr No One’ is responsible, he’s the only one with any balls.

I shared at Chandos yesterday, a bit scary really as recently I had a panic attack walking there and pissed myself, anyway I spoke about my journey and the 16 strong audience, all addicts bar one, riposted. My story very briefly covered my drinking history then my recovery was the omphalos; my infrequent fellowship meetings, no sanctioned sponsor or sponsees, my gallimaufry of ‘steps’, service as tea boy but no other...but utter commitment to not having any alcohol or other psychoactive drug (other than caffeine and nicotine of course! Chocolate isn’t on the list & sparsely taken). The audience responded enthusiastically-each identifying with at least a part of my soliloquy even those I know are committed fellowship constituents. Singular voyages towards a common destination-a fulfilling life in recovery.

Existential dilemmas in ‘The House’ and in ‘anonymous’ meetings continue to fascinate me. Unfortunate wights deliberate on such matters as: why shouldn’t I continue GBH towards women and/or pimp them; why is sniffing cocaine every weekend considered addiction not acceptable social use; why is causing foetal addiction wrong; why are opioids in a prescription drug legal but ‘on the street’ illegal when it’s the same psychoactive drug-e.g. morphine; why? I propose that the extract from an Australian paper (top) expresses my views exactly but not that of some (most?) mentors: chronologically; parents and/or carers, teachers, educational therapists and social workers, probation officers, social workers...loop individually, spiral to ‘jails, institutions and an (early) death or splinter away from peers. We all have choice.

Whilst believing modern theoretical physics does describe my perceived surroundings quite well, the concepts are simple, I am also aware not all understand how it underpins my philosophy. By the way disregard time as being a dimension for the moment.  Big Bang theory adequately explains what we can measure from Higg's Boson to Galaxies so imagine those equations describing what any of us may sense physically. Imagine 3 perfect balls dropped from a bag onto a perfect pool table with precisely known attributes such as cushion bounce, friction etc. - now assume you take the cue and strike a ball with known force and angle so it hits the second ball at such an angle that it hits the third in a way to put it in a certain place - it's simple maths - try it, any good pool player does it in their head and their pool table isn't even perfect! 

Now make the table 3 dimensional, drop the balls in, and use the cue to hit one and start calculating, again simple maths, just more freedom of movement. Allow me the luxury of some renaming; call the bag a singularity, the table this universe, the balls particles (electrons etc.), the cue force (of expansion) and do the maths, you should get what we see around us. Of course it has taken 13.75 billion years in practice so maybe just accept that idea as being good enough for the moment and turn to considering where the bag came from - it didn't exist in this universe before the big bang - and who held the cue. Particles can be seen popping in and out of our 3 dimensional universe so there must be more dimensions, 13 or so I believe, and I also believe there was a. more than one initial condition the singularity was in and/or b. more than one amount and/or direction of expansion applied and/or c. random barriers were and/or are placed just to complicate the maths.

Future echoes of 'bullshit' are deafening but to me it means all realities (past, present and future) exist,are calculable hence knowable, but 'I' choose second by second which one 'I' will inhabit, 'my' future is not pre-ordained - 'I' have free will and accept the consequences of 'my' actions in this universe - this reality. How others perceive me and how I perceive others is the gallimaufry herein.