Now it comes to it it's more difficult than I'd imagined. Not so much a 'Christ what do I say' thing, more a 'Whoa there, not so heavy'. I was going to explain that one-liner I came up with when I registered, my motivation for this thing, but I think that's going to have to wait. The moment's gone for now.
So instead, forgive the egocentric beginnings, but a little bit about me just to get this going. Put it in a context. Frame it all perhaps.
I still think of myself as a youngish chap despite being in that phase of life where I have a young family and a career of sorts. I would like to look back and say that until now I've always taken the 'path less travelled by' but, despite some of my better moments and my working existnce not being 9-5, I can't honestly say that I have. Still, plenty of time for all that perhaps. Recent history. I've upped sticks, changed job and moved south to be nearer my roots and my partner's, although her's aren't on these shores. A significant and unfortunate fact - there, I've gone and touched ever so lightly on that one liner.
I've got far too many interests than are healthy for my means and the time I have. I'll not bang on about all those just now - better to mention them when I've got something to say about them. I do get those "phases" though, you know. Where one interest tends to dominate for a while. Lately its an interest in the human side of the Second World War. Can't get enough of first hand accounts at the moment. It can be quite an emotional endeavour. I'll challenge anyone not to be moved by diary entries from soldiers from both sides on the Eastern front in Beevor's "Stalingrad" or Deborah Dwork's history of Jewish Children in the Holocaust, "Children With A Star". I'm beginning to get angry just thinking about the latter - a good thing - the more of us that do then the less currency these revisionists will have to play with as the last witnesses dwindle. Any time you feel the slightest shred of self pity stuff like that really brings you to your senses. Makes you look at your own children a little differently you know? You suddenly tend to value that the job you go to isn't a live life by the minute affair (those employed in Iraq and the like excepted!).
So, it seems that looking back can bring some clarity after all, at least to some of us. Perhaps another night I'll talk about that other sense where instead it most certainly doesn't. For now it's getting late and I'm full of sleep...
