Merry Christmas

                                      

I am starting my Christmas today and am off to Melbourne.

Happy, warm but not too hot, friendly, moderately sober, reflective in a positive way Christmas wishes

AC

My 2015

                                                     

It is this time of the year to take stock of events and learnings of the year that soon will belong to my past. Has it been a good year? Yes. Not an easy or particularly happy one but it has been in many ways a good year.

Some people, quite a few really, think that I tend to over-analyse or even complicate things. I reluctantly agree. Translating my favourite Polish saying into rather clumsy English – I have it like that. This is how I am made. I do not apologise for being one way or another as long as I do not hurt anyone. In this particular case, I bore some people and this maybe hurting them, even if only a little. Meeting friends, I watch myself not to go on my marry way analyzing small events to death. This forum however allows self indulgence, reading my post is not compulsory, even if very much appreciated.

Wow, it has been a long, meandering introduction. I declared the 2015 to be the Year of Elegance. I do not mean dressing elegantly but living elegantly. Living elegantly means to me being measured and deliberate in reactions to life surprises and challenges. Not going into a flap. Accepting whatever comes at me without blaming anyone or denying existence of potential problems. Being grateful for existence, friends and surrounding beauty. Forever learning. Keeping good order around me and within me. Accepting limitations. Living with moderation especially when it comes to eating habits. No rush and no greed. And definitely no overeating. And loving… Not necessarily particular people, even though this is always a wonderful experience but just being loving and kind. Elegant living requires good listening, this is how we find beauty and needs of others.

It came out as my life credo. It is, really. So, have I lived elegantly this year? In some aspects, yes. There is a lot of room for improvement though.

2015 was a year of recovery from rather serious health issues that took over a big part of my 2014. The problems taught me a lot. The main lesson was in acceptance and taking things as they are, submitting to necessary hardship, trusting that this too shall pass. And it did pass. At least for now, but I have improved my ability to live in the moment and do not worry that much about what may come, as I did in the past.

It is always very difficult for me to loose a friendship. Unfortunately, I did loose friendships this year. One, I lost very definitely through death. I feel sorry at the loss and thankful that I was given a chance to know the man. Bad memories fell by the wayside.

The other changes brought disappointment, some surprises and plenty of life experience. I moved on…

The main uplifting event of the year was my stay in Poland. Once again I decided that I do not want to close the Polish chapter yet but I rather continue my schizophrenic life between the two countries I love. I am now hoping that Poland under new rulers will not change in such a way that I will not want to go there again.

Some of my European summer plans did not work out but some worked out better than I had expected. My traveling plans did not work; I had some health issues that stopped me to visit Berlin or Prado in Madrid.

I wanted to renew contacts with my family and friends and this worked out better than I had expected. I enjoyed getting in touch and spending time with my old friends and the young ones. The young people, I am close to, are fantastic. Living their lives and planning their future well. It was stimulating and very enjoyable to talk to my young friends. I have also mended some ways that got broken in the past. This was one of the happiest experiences of the year and it means a lot to me.

I used to say that I do not have family, and then went, with my partner of the time, to a family reunion. There were close to 200 people of Mieszkowski (my maiden name) family. My partner said – You do not have family? and who are those people??? It woke me up. I do have a big family with whom I do not keep much contact. I made a choice, not the best one and I take full responsibility for that. To remember about my family I included a family reunion picture as my FB background. This is what will always stand behind me, the legacy of my parents.

Coming back to Sydney with new thoughts and new energy, I made a commitment to go to gym twice a week, play and improve my bridge in the local club - Trumps, play lawn bowls and volunteer in the local council. It all works very well and is fun. All except volunteering. It is very difficult to comprehend that wanting to be useful may be such a difficult thing. Bureaucracy of the process is unbelievable. I still live in hope that after seven months I will get an assignment eventually.

It has been also a year when my reading changed. I re-discovered fiction. This is not what I want to elaborate on right now; I just want to say that reading and books have been an important part of my 2015.

It has been a year when I spent a lot of time on my own. This helped me to think through some dilemmas and see things from a new perspective. It has freed me from some doubts and regrets. I decided that life this year has been good.

                                        

More on The Secret History

I wrote about the book before, the time as I was still reading it. I was drawn into the story from the fist pages. This is what Donna Tartt’s books are like. It is easy to make such a generalization as she has written only three books and I already have read two of the three. The author promises the next book in 10 years time, I am glad that I still have one more unread. The pleasure, reflections and fun of reading The Little Friend are still ahead of me. I think, I will make a break from Donna Tartt and delay the pleasure as well as balance my reading a bit. David Copperfield, Cixi and a couple of books by Adam Phillip are in reading right now and I am still choosing my number one of the current books. The one I intend to read in one go.

Back to Donna Tartt… The Secret History is another elegant book, just right for my Year of Elegance that actually has not been so elegant after all. It is a book about being cultured and this appeals to some of the readers. It is also about beauty of things, art, nature… And it says that unless beauty is wed to something more meaningful is always superficial. Hmm… something to think about. Florentine museums, churches and galleries say that adoration of God makes art meaningful. This is fine with me. But beautiful objects one just likes to look at and hold do not seem to be wed to anything meaningful except for giving pleasure to the observer. Hmm…. again.

The Secret History is a multilayer story and one of the layers is Donna’s version of Crime and Punishment. Comparing a writer to Dostoyevsky is a big if not arrogant statement, but I am not doing it lightly. I read Crime and Punishment many years ago and still remember the sticky, oppressive feeling the book left me with. The feeling is still there when I think about some of the fragments that stuck to my mind for good. The same happened to me while reading the second part of The Secret History. I did not enjoy the reading and yet I could not put the book away.  The unpleasant feeling is still with me. It may stay for a while, it seems.

One statement by Julian, the teacher, one of the characters of the book, made me ponder: “ a Hindu saint being able to slay a thousand on the battlefield and it not being a sin unless he felt remorse”. It that true in general sense? There is a lot of remorse that the characters felt and this creates a really Dostoyevsky’s atmosphere. It is so easy to kill and so difficult to live. But perhaps only if one feels remorse.

The story is also about friendship. Can it be real or is it an illusion we want to create out of desire to share some events of life with someone caring and trustworthy? As the story develops we see that most of the situations taken by the narrator as acts of friendship were really dictated by self interest of his friends. Were there really friends or was it just a projected need of Richard. The idealistic part of me cries realizing that this is often true in life. This is a dramatic statement but formulated with tongue-in-cheek and with acceptance of life realities.

The main character, Henry, fascinates and puzzles me. Liking him to Mycroft Holmes? I wish I could talk to someone about complexities of his nature and coming up with justification for his decisions and acts. Comments and discussion on the subject would be most welcome. She hopes...

P.S. Writing about the book in my first review, I felt that I did not give it justice. I felt it but could not put my finger on what actually bothers me in what I had written. I published the post anyway and got a comment from my very faithful reader and commenter saying that he will give the book a miss. This is absolutely understandable, we like different things and I was not hurt by it as I was not trying to convince anyone to read The Secret History, even if I thought that the book is definitely worth while reading. What bothered me however when I wrote about the book that it was coming across as a very trivial story. On reflection, it is a very trivial in many ways. Like one of those books to read fast to kill time. This is deceiving. One reads the book fast, of course, but this is a deep, wise book, written elegantly, with great knowledge of various aspects of art, culture and human nature. It investigates our motives actions and ways of dealing with consequences. It is a universal book about human conditions and issues. A great book for people who like philosophy and psychology.

The author is likened to Dickens and I am starting to understand why Donna Tartt’s name is often mentioned together with the great XIX century writer. The same attention to detail, wonderful narratives, written in the first person (like David Copperfield, I am just reading). There are, no doubt, more similarities but I am only half way trough my first Dickens’s book. (4/1/2016)

Emma Watson, I salute you

I must confess that I am up to date on Polish and European affairs, but not so much on Australian. I feel a bit guilty about it.  My excuse is that a lot is happening in Poland at the moment and even if I know I cannot do much to change it, I am drawn to Polish news hoping that maybe I will get some reassuring news one day. This day has not come yet. So, I read and I listen in hope. I would like to offload my frustration and fear caused by the situation by writing about it, but not now. I may do in a future post. Today I am going to write as a feminist. By coincident, I found today an article about Emma Watson and her speech her speech at HeForShe movement in the United Nations. I had to check when it actually happened and it was around March this year. Tony Abbott apparently joined the campaign, good on you Tony! I can see even more reasons to extend my interests to Australian news; this is my home country, after all.

                                                                                            

I want to write about the Emma’s speech and my impressions. I was moved to tears by the speech. Emma Watson is a wizard not only in Harry Potter but in social/political life as well. And I felt ashamed. I have always been convinced about women’s rights to be treated as equal to men. I always have been, but I never was inclined to be vocal about it. I perhaps did not like potential confrontations… I am not sure but this is neither the time nor the place for self-analysis. In my braver moments I called myself a feminist giving quickly my definition – feminist is the person who helps women to live life their way. Emma Watson talks about general understanding of the word “feminist” as to be a person hating men. This is perhaps what I subconsciously had in mind when I was hesitant to call myself a feminist. I do not hate men, far from it. I just think that in work force women should have even chances as men to succeed if they have the same ability to do the job.

Recently I heard a man saying – women are cleverer than men. I was supposed to be flattered, I believe. But I find such generalization silly and untrue. I would agree, however, with somewhat altered statement - women are cleverer than men generally think women are. I have met many clever, capable women and men and I came across many silly and incompetent people regardless the gender.

Listening to this moving and inspirational speech of the young actress, I decided to get out of the closet and confess – I AM A FEMINIST. My life has been of a woman working together with men in similar roles to my male colleagues.  I even studied mathematics not realizing that women were not supposed to understand such things. Thanks God, I did not know that it was not for me.

When I came to Australia, my earlier indoctrination served me well. Hearing sexist comments I thought – “Wow, this Australians have strange sense of humour”. I did not get offended by what I thought were silly jokes and I did not harp. This saved me a lot of grief, I believe. When I eventually got the message, I was on my way to succeed as an IT professional in IBM. I had some women colleagues, but I was frequently in situations when meeting were opened with words: Good morning gentlemen and Anna. I still think it was fun.

Inspired by Emma Watson, I will investigate how to become an active feminist and become a SheForShe.

Donna Tartt - The Secret History

I just finished the fourth part of My Struggle by Knausgaard. I have been absolutely fascinated by the first two books but I have lost momentum while reading the next two. Maybe I even lost some interest; consequently I was much slower reading the fourth part than the first two. I put the book aside several times to read other things, but when I got back to it after a break, the old magic came back and I finished it in one sitting. I may come back to writing my impressions about the Karl Ove story and I will most likely get the next book one day, maybe not that soon though.

                                                          

For now, another book took over my attention and thoughts.  I am now following my second fascination that started earlier this year. Donna Tartt! When I finished My Struggle – Book Four, I moved the same day to read The Secret History of Donna Tartt. I found it strange that it felt as if I was still reading the same author. Building of sentences must have some similarity. I am half way through The Secret History now and no longer have earlier feeling of déjà vu regarding the style. 

                                                        

On the right Polish cover of the book, I like it better than the English version. It says more about the book content

              

Donna Tartt has written three books so far; The Secret History published in 1992, The Little Friend published in 2002 and The Goldfinch – 2013. It takes her about 10 years to write a book. She says that being born in 1963 she will write two more novels. Maybe three… It is a long time to wait for the next one, but I still have The Little Friend to read. My Polish friend, a literature teacher, who is responsible for my reading Knausgaard and Donna Tartt, already has new writers he intends to put on my reading list. So far, I appreciate his forceful recommendations so I am expecting new literary interest to come up and unfold.

The Secret History is a story described as intelligent person thriller; it keeps reader’s attention fully captured. As a thriller should. And similarly to The Goldfinch it is much more than just a well written mystery. It triggers off reflections, memories, asks questions that stay with the reader and demand personal answers. It is also a book about appreciation of classical studies, art and beautiful objects. There is air of exclusivity about the way heroes dress, eat and behave. Some of the six main characters, five boys and one girl, come from rich families, some do not have any money, but all of them have their rather exclusive style. They are nonchalant about wearing Charvet ties, Astrakhan coats while they study classics at the Vermont elite collage. There were times I considered attention to labels, silly and empty. I still do in many ways, but I also recognize a special beauty of some exclusive objects and appreciate pleasure of possessing them. They can be treated as utilitarian objects of art, so I am not that critical any more of people liking their beautiful possessions. And Oscar Wilde said “A well-tied tie is the first serious step in life”. Let’s not ignore good dress sense. 

£172.75 - Charvet striped silk tie - Good news : now shipping to Australia !

                                               

My observations today must have made an impression that my interest and the book itself is all about exclusive dressing. It is not, on either account. I just elaborated on this particular subject maybe a bit too much. Temporary weakness. Maybe I even started to pay more attention to small things and their beautiful details. But I am also thinking of my answer to the question, triggered by the book, in which part of my life my character was formed. Was it my solitary childhood when I was reading those idealistic books or was it the time I first lived in a big city, still reading a lot and working as one of the first Warsaw computer programmers? When my work ethics were created?

The main issue the book is asking of readers to grapple with is about how far can one go in committing unethical deeds and get away without being punished by self, others or fate. Is it possible at all? Will our conscious allow it? I will keep reading to find out Donna Tartt's answers. Conclusion, if there is one, soon.

On Friedship

Friendship is one of my very core values. Since I was a small girl I thought that friendship was the best a girl could experience. My mother was a romantic at heart and supplied me with books that glorified friendship between girls. I was the only child for 10 years. Then my brother appeared in my life and the life of the family. By that time I did not need a small noisy thing at home. It upset my world that was full of ideas I found in books. And I read the books my romantic mother supplied me with. The main influence was Ann of Green Gables and a book about a princess from Georgia. The second book was a translation from Russian. It was a very old book, referred to as a pre-war edition. Definitely a pre-communistic literature representing very capitalistic ideas. The book must have been forbidden in Russia. The story was about a princess who lost her mother, the unruly girl was placed by her loving father in a boarding school. His decision, however,  was influenced by a skimming and wicked woman. The school was a very exclusive boarding school in Saint Petersburg. The princess felt lonely but she found true friendship among her schoolmates. 

                                                                         

Maybe I will be able to get this book when next time in Poland, a Polish translation though

                                                       

These were friendships for life, till death do us part sort of thing. I responded to this idea vehemently and this is how friendship became my top value that still is the most important of them all. It represented love, honesty, unconditional support, trust and many other beautiful things. Actually, I consider myself most of all a friend. This is my label – I am a friend. It is a relatively new realization even if friendship has been always present and sought for through most of my life. There were times I thought I was a wife, a partner, a manager. Now I know, I am most of all a friend. I do have my own Diana, the best friend of Ann Shirley from the Green Gables. Our friendship does not go as far as the grammar school but it goes to the first day at uni.  It has been long enough to call her my friend for life. She is now the most trusted person in my life and I am very happy and grateful for that.

When I think about real friendship, I really have a friendship with a woman in mind. That is how it was in those books. Boys did feature, unless they were to become at some stage romantic partners. Like Gilbert Blythe. However, there are so many “howevers” in life, I have some male friends that are also true, valued friends.

What friendship means to me? It is trust, permanency, support, understanding, fondness and many other warm and fuzzies. When I was a young woman two of my very close friends died before they turned 30. They were my first loses of friends. It was very painful but there was no betrayal or rejection behind the end of those friendships. I wonder how far they would go. Would they finish prematurely? Would they last till this day?

When some of my friendships finish, I hurt a lot and can not understand it. Friendships do not finish. That is how it was in those books. Friendships are forever. I still want to think that and believe in it. There is a saying that I found at times comforting: Friends are for a reason, for a season or for life. Yes, I have had seasonal friends in my life as well, but those friends who are not “for life” are they real friends or are they my lapse of judgment?

This Picasso painting represents women friendship to me

                                     

Paris and memories

Today is the day after the attacks on Paris. When I wake up I usually skip my promise to meditate as a start to a good day and go straight to my computer to check out what is going on in the world and among my friends. This morning I did the same. It was not a happy good morning. I found on FB link to Marseillaise from Casablanca. One of my blogging friends reminded us of it, I watched and cried. At times it is easy to bring me to tears with moving scenes. This was definitely one of the times. The world is shocked and many deep comments have been made on the subject. I do not feel up to it, but I feel with France and French people. My thoughts went to happy times I spent in Paris – Le Gai Paris – that is far from joyful today. I still want to remember it the way I experienced it. It is my way to protest against something that I can not comprehend and cannot agree with. I feel so helpless, my little manifestation of putting French colours across my FB picture seems pathetic and inadequate but what can I do? What we, people who are against such horrific, heartless violence can do? Resist being afraid is one thing that comes to mind. Another is to remember happy times in this town. Here are my memories:

http://acobserves.blogspot.com.au/2015/05/french-are-amazing.html

http://acobserves.blogspot.com.au/2015/04/more-on-french-films-festival.html

http://acobserves.blogspot.com.au/2015/03/sydney-french-films-festival.html

http://acobserves.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/under-french-spell.html

http://acobserves.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/story-of-mussels.html

Nostalgia and confusion

I love my two countries, Poland and Australia and I travel from one to another partly because I have to but really because I want to spend time in each of them. It really is my choice. My ultimate country is Australia. I have lived here longer than I had lived in Poland. At yet, because I was born and brought up in Poland my cultural and emotional links with the country have become very strong lately. Maybe it is a function of age? I am getting on? It is also due to that Poland developed in the last few years and has reached European standards in many areas. The shops are well stocked, selection of goods is often better than in Australia. Theatres, opera and concerts offer is fantastic and inexpensive. Books stores great! So many temptations that I always come back to Sydney with new, nicely published, interesting books that are now waiting in the queue till I find time to read them all.

Focus on culture was always very strong in Poland. During communistic times arts and culture were available to all who were interested. Keeping up with the Joneses was present but it looked different than in Western countries. One looked up to and tried to keep up with people who read good books, saw ambitious films and plays, used sophisticated vocabulary, saw art exhibitions etc. It was a type of snobbery, but from a distance of time, I rather appreciate it. It is quite easy to understand the reason for such a cultural focus.  Luxuries goods and political freedom were not available and people needed panem et circenses – bread and games. Polish bread has always been fantastic, no need for improvement. Culture was means of appeasement, games and circuses for a poor, suppressed nation.

Not intending, I went on my memories trip. It was, really, going to be about nostalgia. So, ad rem. Recently I got a couple of photos from my Polish friends. One of them shows autumn version of my favourite chestnuts alley in Gdansk. Typically I get mushy when I see a spring edition of these majestic trees. This time even autumn colours triggered off nostalgia. Australians always liked that but me? not so much. In the past, I considered such views to be forerunners to bleak weather; rain and cold. Now, I do not spend winters in Poland so the golden leaves on the ground seem very attractive. Some years ago, when I spent more time in Poland than in Australia I was missing jacarandas. Nostalgia, a sentimental longing, seems to be present in my life more often than it would be logical. Seems that I want things that are not in my current life more than things I have and experience right now. Since this insight came to my attention and after all I am a coach, time to focus on the current moment and live now with joy the best I can. But nostalgia, like parting, is such a sweet sorrow…

P.S. I am not sure why I used two Latin expressions today. I even do not know the language. Is it a remnant of this old Polish cultural snobbery?

On belonging and Melbourne Cup

People who know Australia, understand that Melbourne Cup day, the first Tuesday of November is very special time to most Australians. Not exactly a national holiday but definitely a national day to celebrate this very special thoroughbred horses race, the race which stops the nation.

In my first year in Australia I was introduced to the rules of the day. The rules one has to follow if one wants to belong. First of all you need to place a bet either directly with TAB, Australia's Number 1 racing betting place, or through a sweep stake of a place you spend your Melbourne Cup in. The second rule is that you have to drink champagne and the third one obliges women to wear a hat or a fascinator. You just have to do it to feel an Australian. I, like most people, like to feel that I belong. My earlier post  covered my sentiments and thoughts on the subject.

I follow the Melbourne Cup rules except about the bit of wearing a hat or a fascinator. Maybe I need to put some more attention to it the next year and get myself something pretty, even though I think it is a bit silly.

I spent my first Melbourne Cup in an IBM office. One of my colleagues, who in fact was Scottish, but very much into betting and celebrating with alcohol, took care of the proceedings. Obviously he was going to place his bets in TAB, he was big on betting and I was asked to participate. I did not know anything about horses so I chose my favourite based on its name. I believe that I was Colonel Bill. I am not sure now but I remember that it was something military in the name of the horse. I got myself some sweepstakes tickets as well. When in Rome… Not having any knowledge of the horses, I won some money by chance and earned some respect amongst my colleagues and became a part of the team’s betting circle. I was very proud of it even if I was totally out of my depth in the subject. It did not stop me betting and for quite some months I was successful at it. Pretending brought fun and improved my reputation.

Later on, when I worked as an IT manager I was often invited to Melbourne Cup celebrations organized by recruitment companies. It was rather nice part of my professional responsibility to attend parties, especially that they very often took place on boats. Sydney Harbour with its extremely spectacular views, champagne, seafood lunch, national race and happy people around... Hard job, but someone has to do it. They were really nice times.

Now, that such invitations belong to the past, the Melbourne Cup lost its attractiveness to some extend. But tradition is tradition. I had a couple of invitations this year. One to my bowling club and one to my bridge club. I felt very lucky being able to choose and I chose the bridge club celebrations. It was fun. I love playing bridge, even if after a long break in playing I am a beginner again. Catching up, though. It was a lot of bridge in the morning and I enjoyed playing with my newly found partner, Florence. Lovely name, isn’t it? We got on very well. Bridge results were not outstanding but I enjoyed the game. The lunch broke my new sensible eating habit and champagne was of course on the menu. All according to the rules.

 Most of the ladies had pretty head adornments, I did not have any. But I was called to be a part of the jury to allocate prices for the best hats.

One of the most spectacular fascinators that I like

                                                   

Nobody concentrated for a race really except for those few minutes when the race took place. We all had our sweepstakes tickets.  I drew Pirate of Penzance and the horse won! The winning paid for the whole event. Lucky me.

As I found out later, from a friendly post, there is a very nice and touching story behind the winning jockey, Michlelle Payne, a first woman winning Melbourne Cup . It pleased me, of course, to see a talented person demonstrating her ability in a discipline not typically considered feminine. 

The winning moments