Jonathan Dodd returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Crikey! You know how sometimes you have one of those weeks where you don’t seem to have even sat down, but you can’t remember what you’ve actually done? Well, I’ve had one of those.
I have been working, and I have been very busy, and I have got a lot done, but it’s all turned into a blur.
If I had a moment to spare, I’d sit down and settle my mind and let everything just sort itself out. Eventually it would all make sense and I’d feel good about it.
But I can’t because I’m having to write this flipping blog.
Contradictory emotions
I love writing this blog. I have no idea whether anyone reads it, except for the very odd occasion when someone I know tells me they did, and it’s a strange feeling, as contradictory emotions rise up, a heady mix of pure delight with a bloom of embarrassment spiked with a twinge of fear. It’s only a blog, I know, but it’s my blog, and it contains my heart.
I’m reminded of a poem here, because I was looking through one of my old text books from school. I can’t pretend that I read a whole lot of poetry, but I was helping someone find a poem for another purpose.
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)
All brain and no thumbs
Weirdly, I only kept the poetry books and a couple of novels, and ceremonially burnt all the others. I’m not ashamed of that, considering how totally out of date they (and my own education) would be by now.
I wouldn’t be without my education though. I actually scored more than the winning team on University Challenge last week, although I would have to take into account nerves and fingers that wouldn’t be quick enough on the button. They do play a part, as I found out many years ago when I was on The Krypton Factor.
Your thumb becomes a digit that seems to belong to someone else for a while. Your brain is screaming at it to press that thing and it’s just milling around like a frightened rabbit. Thank goodness our brains aren’t located in our thumbs, I say.
I’m not suggesting that you’re all trampling everything down here, but I am describing my feelings as I write this each week. It’s an odd thing, and I don’t know why I do it, but I do, and the way I feel about it is entirely in my head.
Looking blank and a little confused
There’s something here that I never got my head round. They say of great performances, either in sport or in acting, that the person doing the thing needs to be ‘in the zone’, concentrating totally, not thinking about anything, most especially the actual significance of the extraordinary triumph that they’re about to achieve (or not).
I used to think that it was a shame that they couldn’t enjoy the moment, and I used to see their faces when it was over, looking blank and a bit confused. But now I realise that they do know, and all those faces of the winners at the Olympics prove it.
They’re doing the emotional equivalent of holding their breath, and their apparent confusion is simply disbelief that they’ve actually managed to pull it off.
Euphoria and relief
I wouldn’t suggest that writing a blog is comparable to winning an Olympic Gold Medal, but it does share some of the routine of training and the loneliness of the marathon runner, or rather, a whole load of short sprints.
And I do always get that sense of euphoria and relief whenever I manage to churn out my portion of words.
Now I can relax. And I really mean it when I say –
If you have been, thank you for reading this.
Image: Wesley Fryer under CC BY 2.0
Image: Nasrulekram under CC BY 2.0
Image: richelleantipolo under CC BY 2.0
Image: Public Domain Photos under CC BY 2.0
