It's amazing what you remember at a funeral, during one of the greatest moments of stress a body can withstand, and yet, it seems, there are always certain flashes of memory that stick out from days like that. For me, at my cousin's funeral last year, it was the fact that one of my aunts had orange feet. Obviously the result of a home tanning kit that went horribly wrong, although I didn't have the heart to ask her at the time, and now we shall never know whether my guess was justified or not :-)
Not that it matters, of course. But it is strange that I can remember her feet, yet I can't remember a lot of actual details about the day.
Stress does odd things to a person. Just now I am experiencing different levels of stress due to different stressors in my life. Of course, one of the biggest is my return to study, which brings in itself many smaller stressors: will I be able to write the two large essays required of me? will I pass my exam? will I find an invigilator in time who won't let me down? can I even dare to compete with students young enough almost to be my own children?
I have other stressors, of course, because I am older. The stresses involved in the upkeep of a house and pets, daily life struggles, and general incendiaries that life is always throwing at you.
Another is the slow dawning of being terribly lonely in my little house, and the unwilling notion that my biological clock is fast ticking to an end; my chances for procreation being few and far between, partly from the belief that I do not necessarily want to "go it alone", and partly because I have yet to find a man worthy of that kind of act. That is, of course, not to say that I don't like the practice involved, because I do. I am human, so that is only to be expected. :-)
However you look at life though, there is always going to be a certain amount of stress at some level. Life is like that. It simply adores throwing you into the deep end without any floaties and waiting to see if you will sink or swim. While most people invariably figure out how to swim (although a hell of a lot of them almost drown in the process), there are always those that never work it out for themselves, and either have to be rescued, or simply drown of their own free will. Note I said "own free will" here, meaning they had the same choice as everyone else, but chose not to take it. I suppose that is where the individuals are separated from the sheep. Free will is for individuals, collective following is for sheep. I, for one, choose not to be a sheep.
Over the years, I have let stress get to me, to the point where I pretty much asked the world to stop so I could get off. I retreated from every day life, and it is only recently that I have begun again to find my feet. And yet, even now, with that tenuous finger poked outside the bedcovers to see if it is safe to come out or not, I find it is a seriously scary place out there, and I am not at all ready for it.
My first subject at university is about Culture. Primarily, Australian Culture. You would think, having been born in the Great Southern Land, that this would be a fairly easy subject, as it is about a society I was born into, grew up in, and am currently living in, and yet....
If this subject has taught me anything (and we are only now into Week 2), it is that I know damn all about Australian Culture as it currently stands. The great Aussie Culture of the 1970s and 1980s - sure. Not a problem. I was a small child and a teenager then. Even the 1990s. But these days? I've been living in my own little world for the past decade, only coming out to visit British and American sites and to read about European culture. Not even my Anthropology studies could help to re-orient me with my own people. And so now, I am left wondering about Australian Culture and all that this subject takes for granted that I must know. I honestly don't know where to begin, and it scares the shit out of me.
The first proposition posed to us is that "Culture is Ordinary". The article we read last week, goes on to state that not only is Culture ordinary, but that Learning is also ordinary, yet I have my doubts. My anthropology training tells me otherwise. My wistful thinking also tells me otherwise. One thing I do know about my homeland is that we are a multicultural country now, so I do not think that Culture can be classed as "ordinary" if a general stroll through down-town Brisbane at lunch time is anything to go by. Everywhere you go, there are little subsets of differing cultures, all mingling, clashing, consuming each other, in the mixing bowl that is Australian Culture as a whole.
The more I re-read the first article, the more I am bothered by the proposition that "Culture is Ordinary". It grates. I find it hard to fit into my nice little way of thinking, though perhaps that is part of the reason it is included there - to make a person uncomfortable, and primarily, to make them THINK.
Thinking outside the box is a very good thing indeed.
Not that it matters, of course. But it is strange that I can remember her feet, yet I can't remember a lot of actual details about the day.
Stress does odd things to a person. Just now I am experiencing different levels of stress due to different stressors in my life. Of course, one of the biggest is my return to study, which brings in itself many smaller stressors: will I be able to write the two large essays required of me? will I pass my exam? will I find an invigilator in time who won't let me down? can I even dare to compete with students young enough almost to be my own children?
I have other stressors, of course, because I am older. The stresses involved in the upkeep of a house and pets, daily life struggles, and general incendiaries that life is always throwing at you.
Another is the slow dawning of being terribly lonely in my little house, and the unwilling notion that my biological clock is fast ticking to an end; my chances for procreation being few and far between, partly from the belief that I do not necessarily want to "go it alone", and partly because I have yet to find a man worthy of that kind of act. That is, of course, not to say that I don't like the practice involved, because I do. I am human, so that is only to be expected. :-)
However you look at life though, there is always going to be a certain amount of stress at some level. Life is like that. It simply adores throwing you into the deep end without any floaties and waiting to see if you will sink or swim. While most people invariably figure out how to swim (although a hell of a lot of them almost drown in the process), there are always those that never work it out for themselves, and either have to be rescued, or simply drown of their own free will. Note I said "own free will" here, meaning they had the same choice as everyone else, but chose not to take it. I suppose that is where the individuals are separated from the sheep. Free will is for individuals, collective following is for sheep. I, for one, choose not to be a sheep.
Over the years, I have let stress get to me, to the point where I pretty much asked the world to stop so I could get off. I retreated from every day life, and it is only recently that I have begun again to find my feet. And yet, even now, with that tenuous finger poked outside the bedcovers to see if it is safe to come out or not, I find it is a seriously scary place out there, and I am not at all ready for it.
My first subject at university is about Culture. Primarily, Australian Culture. You would think, having been born in the Great Southern Land, that this would be a fairly easy subject, as it is about a society I was born into, grew up in, and am currently living in, and yet....
If this subject has taught me anything (and we are only now into Week 2), it is that I know damn all about Australian Culture as it currently stands. The great Aussie Culture of the 1970s and 1980s - sure. Not a problem. I was a small child and a teenager then. Even the 1990s. But these days? I've been living in my own little world for the past decade, only coming out to visit British and American sites and to read about European culture. Not even my Anthropology studies could help to re-orient me with my own people. And so now, I am left wondering about Australian Culture and all that this subject takes for granted that I must know. I honestly don't know where to begin, and it scares the shit out of me.
The first proposition posed to us is that "Culture is Ordinary". The article we read last week, goes on to state that not only is Culture ordinary, but that Learning is also ordinary, yet I have my doubts. My anthropology training tells me otherwise. My wistful thinking also tells me otherwise. One thing I do know about my homeland is that we are a multicultural country now, so I do not think that Culture can be classed as "ordinary" if a general stroll through down-town Brisbane at lunch time is anything to go by. Everywhere you go, there are little subsets of differing cultures, all mingling, clashing, consuming each other, in the mixing bowl that is Australian Culture as a whole.
The more I re-read the first article, the more I am bothered by the proposition that "Culture is Ordinary". It grates. I find it hard to fit into my nice little way of thinking, though perhaps that is part of the reason it is included there - to make a person uncomfortable, and primarily, to make them THINK.
Thinking outside the box is a very good thing indeed.
1 comment:
Penny Lane, you are a dear person and I don't know why some nice man hasn't snaffled you up by now! Live in hope.
- Cat
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