Anonymity breeds contempt

I follow my friend Dru's blog. She has a wicked way with words and an understated sense of humour.

This post has had me thinking for a while now.

The controversy over the gender testing of Caster Semevna has bothered me a fair bit but I knew little about the biology involved until it prompted me to do some reading.

Far from being just a matter of some chromosones, a bit of anatomy and some brain function, it seems that not only is gender medically complicated but is also fairly plastic in terms of psychology.

In fact - it seems almost as though imposing just two genders on the human race is almost arbitrary. Yes, yes, I know you're saying that the two genders are really about procreation but life's more complicated than that these days.

Or is it?

I have several friends that my father who, lovely though he was in many ways, would have struggled with if discussed in the abstract. However, had my dad met my friends he would have liked them.

So how is this related to an athlete whose gender is being questioned?

Well, as TD said with a tone of exasperation and anger, laced with compassion.

"She's a person".

...and that's the most important thing of all.



.

The difference between empathy and knowledge

Bit of an mind opening experience this week.

A long conversation on the phone with a friend. We live a long way apart so we don't get to generally natter over a coffee or a pint very often.

Recently both of us have been feeling a bit blah. For me, the work to clear space and dispose of old stuff had taken its toll.

A stuffed koala, made by me a long, long time ago had me in a crumpled heap on Sunday afternoon. By Tuesday, it was just a soft toy with a couple of associated memories that made me smile.

WTF?

Whilst telling myself it was probably normal, I couldn't truly shake the feeling that I should have got beyond this point by now or that this was not a normal reaction.

I explain this to my friend.

"I know what you mean", he says.

He doesn't mean 'I can imagine how that feels, and isn't it awful'. He means he felt like that last week, yesterday or possibly 2 hours ago.

We chat about stuff for a while longer.

I feel the tension slipping out of my shoulders and I look at the koala and smile. Now I know I can put it in the spare room and not think I'm mawkish or stupid.

Don't get me wrong - I've lots of friends who will happily support me through the bad times. They give me a hug, they give me beer or coffee and they empathise with me. They have helped me in my lurching from highs to lows to highs again.

But until the conversation on Wednesday, it hadn't struck me what a huge difference knowledge and shared experience makes.

Furthermore, it finally explains to me why my best chemistry teacher wasn't the one who was the most brilliant. When I didn't understand the concept of the mole he patiently and sweetly explained and re-explained it to me without once getting impatient...and yet I always knew that deep down he had no idea why I found it so difficult.

The teacher who had clearly struggled with his own development in the field proved to be a much more effective teacher because he knew what it was like to struggle with a concept and in passing that side of his knowledge on, allowed me to relax and learn without feeling I was in some way uniquely stupid.

It's a paradox - you wouldn't wish the difficulties you're suffering upon anyone else and yet their suffering eases yours and you hope that yours helps them.

Nothing I can do about it other than be grateful for a friend who understands. Thanks.


.

Discovery

My house is full of junk.

The decoration is well underway and that means that rooms have to be emptied.

This is my hall before the addition of a box of technical books, a box of electronic components, and a large laserprinter.

CJ is a veteran of clearance. He tells me short, sharp bursts of sorting things out and getting rid of things is the way to go.

When I mention getting a skip to junk stuff in to make my life easier TD clucks in a disapproving fashion and tells me to 'freecycle'. "You'll be amazed what junk people will take off your hands", quoth he.

I didn't believe him that anyone would want the rubbish that I was looking to dispose of, and yet it would take an age to get out in the fortnightly rubbish collection.

So - I dipped a toe. Put a Palm Pilot IIIc and a Laserprinter on the local freeserve group. My hand was practically bitten off.

In addition to stranger freecycling, I've put the word around a few friends who have asked their friends.

To date I have managed to offload:

A printer
An obsolete hand held computing device
A keyboard stand
2 CD racks
2 old, tatty cartwheel back chairs
Loads of tools
Electronic components
Reels of various cables.
Countless books

The best bit about this is there really is no downside.

The people taking the stuff off my hands are as enthusiastic about receiving it as I am at getting rid of it.

Buoyed by my success so far I'm going to continue simplifying the contents of the house.

Who would have thought that a 30cm x 30cm space on the carpet in the music room could be so satisfying?


.

Simplicity itself

Once again I was amazed at how simple some pleasures are.

Twice in as many days, I've had a guest for a meal.

My ma is a firm believer in letting guests relax whilst she buzzes around the kitchen getting stressed.

Often I follow suit, but on Friday, when the meal preparation was a bit of a rush job, I accepted TD's "Shall I chop the avocado" offer, with gratititude.

We spent the next ten minutes or so nattering happily enough over shared food preparation. I relaxed, TD seemed relaxed...and there was food to eat at the end of it.

Then yesterday DrP - who stayed with me for a few weeks earlier in the year so knows his way around my kitchen pretty much as well as I do - in almost unspoken agreement looked after the quesadillas whilst I made a cuppa.

I realised that this is the thing I probably miss most about living alone. Comfortable co-existence whilst doing mundane, shared tasks.

A highly underrated pleasure.