TIMEezine at l'atelier bonita
established since december 2002
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ezine at l'atelier bonita
established since december 2002
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Philosophical Thoughts and Strange Ideas
by Chris André Winger Death, funerals, churches and general feelings I was in Sweden attending a funeral on friday. Funerals are very sad things, things you hardly ever look forward to. They are different all over the world, but I guess the general message is kind of the same; honour the dead one, say a last goodbye. Norwegians and Swedes are very different, strangely enough. Therefore, the way we arrange our funerals are also very different. The Norwegian funerals are extremely sad, without much personality at all. We use it as a mourning session, a session made to cry, mourn, and actually honour the dead person more than he actually deserves. They are made perfect, saints.. But maybe that is right, or maybe it's wrong.. I don't know, I have no idea. After all, they are dead.. should probably be remembered in a good way. Anyway, the Swedish funerals I have attended have been quite different. It's more personalized, more.. bright, if that's the right word for it. The person is not only mourned, but also in a way celebrated. Songs the person liked are being sung, he's being honoured in a way that really feel appropriate. The person is not made a saint, but is remembered the way he really was. I like that. Being glorified in death.. doesn't just happen in funerals. I find this a bit odd. When someone dies, he or she automomatically becomes greater than he/she was in life. Just look at sports for instance. Ayrton Senna da Silva, undoubtably one of the best Formula One drivers the world has ever seen. But after some years, he looked to fade a bit. Before the Imola-race in 1994, Schumacher looked to have taken the crown. He had won every single race before this GP, and the pressure was on Senna. As we all know, Senna died a tragic death in the Tamburello-curve during the race. This glorified Senna to an incredible level. It doesn't matter how many victories Schumacher wins. People can always say "Had Senna still been alive, he had won everything...". Glorified in death. But it doesn't just happen in sports - even in the movie industry. James Dean for instance. How would he be remembered without that car accident ? It created a myth, a myth of one of histories' greatest actors, having his career cut short by a tragic death. I have seen some of his movies, and it really makes me think "what was the big deal about this guy" ? The answer is simple - he died. But, back to the funeral. I personally am quite an atheist, and therefore dislike both the church and religion. Like when the priest blessed me.. Why did he have to do that ? I personally disliked it, but.. Do I really have anything to complain about ? No, not really. That would make me a hypocrite. I was in a church, and being in a church means respecting the church rules. I don't have to like it, but I certainly have to take it. How is the priest supposed to know that I don't share his values ? I'm in his sanctuary, for God's sake.. (word play!) But, in his sermons, he said a lot of things that actually made a lot of sense. One sentence in particular caught my attention; "You can be lonely, even with a lot of people around you." That is so true, and I admire the guy for bringing it up. Loneliness isn't always about physical presence of other people. Loneliness is a state of mind, and is therefore located in the head. If you feel lonely, not even the centre of Hugh's playboy mansion can make you feel better.. or ? Nah, it's still in the head, and that round (sometimes almost square) thing connected to the torso is perhaps the most complex thing ever created. It's a maze of imagination, a library of memory, a soup of feelings. Difficult to handle, I'm not sure if anyone is able to completely. But maybe that's what makes it a truly great tool - you can never truly master it. But that is a little scary also.. But anyway, a nice preach, that was very interesting to follow at times. I am grateful for that, as unexpected as it was. So, this was an rewarding experience. I got to say goodbye to a friend in a very good way, and I even got something to think about from a wise old man. A rewarding experience, an experience you don't get every day. I cherish these experiences, because they give me a lot to think about, and thereby a lot to write about when I'm bored and sleepless late at night. Oh well, it's good to have a channel for a flooded pod of feelings. Thank you. The Walk The weather was very nice here today after our game against Ancona. This game was a very tiring experience, wasn't it ? Back and forth, like a footballistic yo-yo. Moments of joy were followed by moments of anger. The game covered every aspect of human emotions. Happiness, sorrow, anger, frustration, agony, and in the end the ultimate relief. It was probably exhausting for all of us, but as Laziale4ever commented: This is football ! As I said, the weather was lovely. When you hear that you probably think "Ah, blue skies and a bright sun!". But that wasn't the case. It was clouded, some of the clouds were black. The air was a bit moist, you could feel a light breeze blowing against your face. Everything seemed so fresh, so tranquil, so perfect in terms of climate. Because this is what I enjoy, and many people find me crazy because of it. I talked a bit to my grandmother about it, and she felt that the weather was depressing. It was pushing against her, almost choking. Everything felt sad for her, and that is always a shame. She has always loved flowers, and wanted to put out some to brighten things up. Therefore she needed my help right after the game. Flowers aren't my favourite thing, but she is not in great physical condition, so of course I helped her out. After carrying some flowers back and forth, I found that I felt it quite comfortable outside. I must say, even though it's not my favourite hobby, the flowers looked very nice. I just hope there won't be a lot of wind in the coming month, so that I will have to take them in again. Wasted energy ! So I sat down in the chair, enjoying the temperature and the nice surroundings. I took a look at a small hillside, a hillside I actually hadn't walked in for years ! (which is quite extraordinary, seeing that it's a few metres from the house). It looked a bit exciting. So I thought, as long as I feel so comfortable outside.. why don't I take a walk ?. And so I did. The ground was very moist, water running everywhere, some small blue flowers were actually growing. I don't know what they are called in English, but we call them "blĺveis". You are actually not allowed to pick them, even though they are probably the fastest growing flowers in the country. But who cares ? The local people certainly don't... Anyway, I guess that's what spring is about. Melting and growing. As I entered the thickest forrest further up the hillside, I found a trace of an old path that was walked quite frequently some years ago. And to be honest, it scared me a bit. I actually remember vaguely being carried on the shoulder by my grandmother on that path, picking mushrooms. We used to do that a lot, before she got sick. Kind of a family tradition, a tradition that I think goes several hundred years back. Anyway, at that time, the path was perfect, the nicest path you could find. A lot of people and animals walked there at that time, and that was probably the reason for the great mainentance. I guess that just.. stopped after a while ! Because now, the path is not as good as it used to be. There has grown both grass and trees in the middle of certain places, as in the rest of the area. It hasn't been used much, so the forest just keeps growing out of control. It's a shame really, but also inevitable. But why is it inevitable ? It just is, we stopped using it. But I still enjoyed walking it. It reminded me of great times "many" years ago. There was a lot less windy in the forrest, which I guess makes sense due to all the trees. Probably just as well, because my stamina is not what it used to be ! (hehe, actually.. it was never that good). I was approaching the top, and there was actually quite a lot of snow up there. That surprised me a bit, because most of the snow has melted at this time. But.. I had gotten that far, and I was not about to stop. What is 30 centimetres of snow to a Norwegian Viking ? Actually, the reason I went on was because I knew I was approaching a certain point, a point that used to be quite important to the whole community. I didn't remember exactly where it was, but It was up there somewhere. After walking through the snow for a while, it was like the invisible trail had stopped. I came to an open spot, and I was surrounded by thick trees. But I knew that I was at the top, and it had to be here somewhere, so I just walked on (U2 style!). I went through the trees, and to my great satisfaction, I found it. A huge open area, an area that has been extremely important to our small community for centuries. It has a lovely view, a view over the entire province (well, not the entire province, but...). This has been a spot for festivities, gatherings, joy and sense of friendship. I remember we used to barbecue up there, make small fires, camp, have small concerts.. Just enjoying ourselves, as our ancestors had done before us ! Thinking about this didn't just make me happy, but also a bit sad. Looking at it all.. It was abandoned ! I saw a big stone the guitar player used to sit on while he played for the ten of us, I'm sure the small fire is also still there under the snow. This is now the past, it is no more. And it makes me think, why is this the case ? We still have festivities, but maybe not to the same degree as we used to. So why did we stop, what was the cause of all of it ? There's no real answer perhaps. Maybe the people around here are just getting older. I actually feel a bit of fear for this small place. The golden generations are fading, they are getting old, sick. There are not many young persons around to take over either, and I have a feeling most of them will evade to the cities. That is probably wise, considering the limited job market around here. But still it's sad. Small communities seem to die out, and it really frustrates me. But who knows, maybe we can keep it going ? I started walking back, a bit depressed. But I gained worthy experience from this walk. It reminded me of the past, the good times, the things that has shaped me as a person to some degree. I also learned how easy it is to forget, how easy it is to.. Just stop doing something, withoout really thinking much about it afterwards. A truly emmotional and rewarding stroll in the woods. Imagine a walk up a hillside having such an affect on a person ? Maybe I'm just crazy... Aquariums I took over my sister's fish a few years back. Two goldfish with big fins, don't remember what they are called. Anyway, the cat ate them. Oh well, I don't like keeping animals trapped in aquariums and cages anyway. In fact, it really upsets me. Because .. how could it possibly be like to be a trapped fish. Can they think ? Can they reason ? Who knows, but I have often wondered about these things sitting in a chair looking at someone else's aquarium. They swim around, pointless really. When they encounter the glass, they just turn around, swims somewhere else. That's what they do all day, all year. Is it frustrating for them ? I don't know, it's the only life they know of. I can watch them for hours, and then I start to think.. Are we fish trapped in life's aquariums ? Think about it. We swim around in our own little aquarium, with our troubles and fears as the glass. In our aquarium we feel safe, but once we encounter our fears and personal limits we may not be able to handle them. So we turn around, and swim around where it is safe. The life we know, the life we are comfortable with, every day, all year. But if we would dare to ignore our fears, ignore our personal boundaries, the glass wall stretches out. The braver we are, the larger the aquarium. We decide how much space we want, how much freedom we want. It's our aquarium, it's our life. The same does not go for the poor fish. Melting Springtime is here. Certain countries have sun and beaches all year long, snow and cold is a no-issue. That is not the case where I come from. This is the time when snow melts, and that is quite nice to some degree. Water running everywhere, animals we haven't seen in months suddenly start to appear again. The birds are whistling in the forests, the air is filled with harmony, harmony that is accompanied by a light breeze that can give you goosebumps. Refreshing, the start of something new.. There is always something new beckoning from the horizon, if you think about it. But back to the snow. What is snow, what do you think about when I say that word ? Snow can be quite unfriendly, cold and not very colourful.. but let's stay away from the colours this time. I sat in a chair today thinking about it, and I found out that the snow has a symbolic effect. The year goes by. With it comes both good and bad things, and all these things make their mark on the enviroment. The snow is an eraser, a correct colour (back to the colours, yes) that covers over the old, getting ready for something new to begin. In a way, I guess it preserves the old, but we get a break from it. Of course, we get very tired of the snow after a while. Though.. it does have plus-sides. The romantic Christmases, full of huge snowflakes and red lights that reflect on the pure white of fresh snow - the perfect ending to a comercialized American family movie. We have it all year long. And if you are vivid enough to pick up a shuffle and do some dirty work, there is some money to gain.. At least when you live in the middle of the bush. About the bush, countryside. I love the countryside. It's like we have an old-fashion community, something you don't always see these days. In the big cities, you can live next door to someone without even knowing who they are. Suddenly, you feel a slight smell in the hallway. Turns out the person has been dead for weeks. I have heard stories about this, and at first it seems very cold. But I guess that's just how it is. People are busy, have places to go, people to see. People have their own lives and should be respected. But here at the countryside, everybody knows everybody. Like at the traditional Easter race last week. Everyone got drunk, went skiing and made fools of themselves. I stayed sober, but I still managed to mess up.. Noone cares anyway, except that annoying guy with the camera and the small glass of 96%.. Anyhows, an old man got very drunk and got lost in the woods this year. Everyone went looking for him, everyone wanted to help. I was actually the one who found him. Lucky me, no ? Anyway, we were in it together. Everyone knew him, everyone wanted to help.. those sober enough, at least. This makes me feel good, being part of such a nice community. But the snow again. When it melts, the year has really begun. Not on January the 1st, but when the snow melts. Flowers grow again, the surroundings are filled with new colours (can't get over these colours!), new life begins. So the snow has a mission, it makes us miss these everyday things. When they return, we truly cherish them. The snow is an eraser, a reminder, a money maker. The snow will come back, and it will melt again at some point. Let me quote Elton John again: "The circle of life". The death of snow.. Interesting thought ! I guess we can see melting as the death of snow. It disappears, only for new snow to follow some months later. As in human life, the grandfather dies, the grandchild grows to keep the cycle going. I think it's important to look back at times, quite simply because the past is important. The past is part of who we are, who we have been, our identity. The past is full of glory and pain, things to learn from, examples.. Things to remember, things to honor. Without our past, we are nothing. Of course it's also important to look forward, but what comes comes, that's a fact. The past is the past, it's concrete, something we can sit down and evaluate at this hour. Who knows what the future will bring, purely speculation. Can surroundings form us as persons ? This is an important question, an interesting one. And as most interesting questions, it's probably impossible to answer. Living next to water, can that make you unstable ? I think it's dangerous to say so, because "unstable" is a question of definition. Who is sane and who is not ? No one has the right to answer this, at least not in my opinion. This was also the subject in a "Frasier" episode yesterday. Yes, Frasier is fiction, but the subject was valid. An old business man was making small railways for children, selling properties cheap to help out families, donating millions to charity, quite simply being a good man (the fact that he jumped off a freight train was off topic). This had his son to believe that he was crazy, and he went to court to take away his authority. This says a lot about what a cold society we currently live in. The guy was kind, so he is mad ? No one is mad. Abnormal maybe, but not mad. But who is normal ? Impossible to say. I doubt that people living in cold places are cold in the soul. Temperature has nothing to do with it ! Colours Our eyes are our window to the world. Through our eyes we see what's around us. People, nature, buildings.. These things are not only separated by shape, but a strange thing we like to call "colours". Colours are very different. Red, green, blue or yellow. Variation, something that makes the world beatiful, interesting and unique. So the colours we see.. Do we know they are colours ? I mean, colours may be an abstract thing. An illusion perhaps ? That would be quite odd, considering the fact that we actually see them. Seeing is believing, but we decide what we want to believe, don't we. Norwegians and Swedes has always had kind of a friendly rivalry. We make jokes about each-other, and jokes about Swedes are very popular here. One of the most famous jokes is the Swedish guy who talked to a TV salesman in an electrical appliance shop. "Are black and white colours?", the Swede said. "Yes they are", the salesman replied. "I told my wife we have colour TV at home! ". A poor joke perhaps, but it does enter an interesting subject. Are black and white colours ? One would think so. I do a lot of painting myself, and black and white are vital to make a good painting (even though that's something I rarely do). Some colours need darkening, some needs to be lightened up. But does that mean that black and white aren't colours after all, but just "blenders" ? Paintings version of "Schweppes".. Seems a bit odd, realy. Just look at Afro-American/African people. They have dark skin, but are often referred to as "coloured". So that must mean that black is a colour, right ? Maybe not.. maybe it's just an expression we use without thinking much over it. That happens I guess. We have some strange expressions, expressions that, if you think about it, makes no sense at all. "Sorry, not my cup of tea".. OK, you don't fancy something, but why add the tea ? And why tea ? A lot of people drink coffee. That reminds me of a good song lyric: "I don't drink coffee I'l take tea my dear, I'l have my toast done..." Oh well, enough about that. I don't know where the tea expression comes from, but I find it a bit odd. Not my piece of meat.. Then there was a Finnish rally co-driver who had an interesting expression once. The driver went into the ditch, and the co-driver yelled "Karamba". Karamba.. Isn't that the same as "perkele", but from another language ? Strange he should choose that one, but I guess it's part of the globalisation of the world language.. If there is any. But back to colours. They are nice, aren't they ? Lazio for instance, our colours are white and pale blue. The sky.. Changes colours to wine red in the evening. Reminds me of our "cousins".. maybe that's a sign that there is room for both of us in the world of football. It should be, at least. Colours brighten up the day. Can you imagine a completely grey world ? Wait.. is grey a colour, like black and white? And are black and white colours? Strange indeed. Anyway, it's impossible to even imagine. Colours are part of our lives, something we take for granted. So are colours abstract ? Perhaps not. Did I come up with anything clever tonight ? Absoloutely not! Craziness Crazy, strange, weird.. It's impossible to define ! For who is crazy, and who is normal ? There is no straight answer to that question. There might not even be a sane person on this planet, because quite frankly we don't know what a sane person is. Is he a a family man, a playboy, a dare-devil, a coward ? We are all different, unique, undefinable. So whom am I to judge which threads are crazy or not ? As we grow as persons, we develope some unique stuff, things that form the abstract thing we like to call our "soul". These things are like the first flower at springtime, it is strong, it can even break through the toughest asphalt. The sole purpose of the flower is to make the landscape different, from white snow to a larger spectra of colours. So is our personalities. If we were all alike, the world would be quite boring, as an eternal wintertime. Cold, unfriendly, boring. So craziness, even though it's abstract, is positive because it enriches our life, makes some things different. What would football be without players such as Jones, Gazza, Mihajlovic and Collymore ? A friendlier sport for sure.. But these players have, through their charisma and craziness, made football different. They have stood out from the crowd, not only for their football skills, but for their personalities. In my opinion, people should try to stand out more, show our unique sides. But humans are flock animals, we do what other people do, sometimes without knowing it ourselves. I was walking around the capital once in a Lazio shirt, and suddenly some stranger came up to me and said "Lazio ? You must be crazy". Crazy ? Crazy because I support a team that few others do in this country ? Crazy is not the word, but different. Maybe different is also abstract, because we really don't know what normal is, but it seems proper somehow. Maybe we are all different, we all enrich the world somehow. We express ourselves, sometimes in strange ways.. But what is strange ? A little crazyness is very welcome ! Verbal abuse Indeed. Verbal abuse is the worst kind of abuse there is. Words can hurt you more than a bullet, without spilling as much blood. This enables the victim to hide his pain, a pain that keeps on aching in his or hers body until it's unbearable. The worst thing you can do is to keep pain and frustration inside yourself, until you burst. But it is almost like telling a lie. You know that you should not do it, but still it's so easy. If you attack someone's body, the other person might have a good chance to defend himself. If you attack someone's psyche, it may not be a fair fight. Not everyone is strong enough to defend themselves, some of us are weak, some of us are vulnerable. This is something people have to show respect for. The Laziofever forum is like all other societies. A lot of people, separated by seas, languages and religions. Conflicts are bound to occur. But the main thing is not the conflict themselves, but the way we deal with them. If we handle conflicts by throwing abuse at the other, it's only fair that we receive some back. I'm not a very religious person, but that Jesus guy said one thing that made sense; "Treat others as you wish to be treated yourself". The golden rule, a rule to learn from. This is a discussion-forum, with the sole purpose of people getting in contact with each other and discuss things. Let's treat each other with respect, we all deserve that. I think this was the hobby-philosophist post of the week.. A nice evening I was walking the dog today, quite a nice evening. It was a light breeze in the air, just as I like it. I stood still for a while, the dog was just laying in the snow relaxing. Then I saw an old man, sitting on a bench with his own thoughts. He sat completely still, just enjoying the surroundings. Looked peaceful. I went back to the house with the dog, but returned to the bench. The old man was gone, probably went home just as I did. I decided to sit at the same bench as he did. Don't know why, it just seemed right. I've felt quite troubled lately, don't know why. Like the rest of my life troubles me somehow, that I even felt unsettled in the place I've lived my whole life. It's all a lot of stress, the days seemed to pass without meaning. I started painting again a week ago. It made me feel better, gave me a way to express myself. But still the depression didn't really go away. So I just sat there. Didn't do anything, just looked at the surroundings. It's really changed a lot. Many trees have been cut down, city-people have built big cabins.. I guess that's what the world is coming to these days. But enough about that. As I watched my homeplace, a sense of calmness struck me. The neighbour walked by, said hello to me. Like I belonged here, he just knew me. That made me feel good. This is my home, this is a puzzle with me as a piece. It doesn't matter what I do, I belong here. A lot of things have changed in my life lately, in terms of family situation and sickness. I try my best, it's important to be to be a good person, to do well. That might have been my biggest problem. I felt that nothing I did was good enough, like a drop in the ocean. Sitting there on that bench made it all clearer to me. If I do my best, I just can't do anymore. What people think doesn't matter at all, I have to be satisfied with myself. So I went home, it was like being reborn. I had a glass of wine, made a painting, spoke with people in the Lazio chat-room.. I even watched the Eurovision final. I feel good. I haven't done anything productive since my walk with the dog, but I am satisfied. I have just used my time for what I wish, that's what's important now. My problems seemed overwhelming, but in perspective they were quite small. It was inside me, all I needed was a moment alone in fresh air to get things worked out. The human mind is strange, I will never stop wondering about it.. I feel like a new person, life seems brighter. I'm already looking forward to Formula One in some hours. So many thoughts, so few words. ©2004 Chris André Winger _______________ Chris André Winger lives in the countryside of Norway. |
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ezine at l'atelier bonita
established
since december 2002