Bridget McNulty

Clean as you go….

// August 22nd, 2008 // No Comments » // Inspiration, Life (and the living of it), Philosophy, Time

If any of you have ever worked in McDonald’s, this is apparently one of their mottos. Who knew?

It is also, though, a succinct and profound practical philosophy tip.

We were speaking, this week, about how often – when we’re stuck in an unfortunate situation – we can’t see our way out of it. We’re so busy thinking and worrying and getting ourselves muddled up that there’s no space for clarity. Sometimes our heads are just so full that we can’t even see what we need to get ourselves out of the pickle. But once you calm down, you can see it. There’s not even necessarily any new information, you can just see what was always there. Clarity is restored.

Steve was suggesting that one way to make this task easier is to clean as you go – each evening, clear your mental clutter. Write it down or look it square in the face or talk it out – do whatever is necessary to keep on top of it.
And also, recognise that sometimes we can’t think our way out of things, we have to do your way out of a problem or a feeling or a rut. Which is so interesting, because it’s closely linked to what I was saying the other day about dancing myself out of a funk!

So much of the time, I find myself procrastinating in one very small, specific area. Something silly like having to make a phonecall, or write an email, or do a chore. And I’ll avoid it and avoid it and avoid it, and all the while the avoiding is taking more energy (and much more time) than if I just sat down and did whatever it was that needed to be done. A helpful question in situations like this (situations where you find yourself doing everything-but-what-needs-to-be-done) is “So what am I avoiding now?”

Hmmm….

I’m going to leave you with that thought for the weekend – what are you avoiding? And are you cleaning as you go, or allowing mental clutter to accumulate around you? My philosophy course is over (alas!) and it’s a month or so before I’ll be able to do the next one, but never fear! I have many many notes, and have hardly started exploring all the ideas in them!
Happy weekend!

All resolved!

// August 14th, 2008 // No Comments » // Publishing, Writing

So my publishing drama is now resolved, and without having to threaten anyone with blogosphere exposure, thank goodness!

It turns out that the editor I was working with has now left, but before he left he put my reviews through for publication, without letting me know. Apparently when I said that the pieces were ‘just to give an indication of style’ he thought that meant, ‘go ahead and publish them’.

Hmm….

Still, I got a really lovely apology letter from the publisher, and apparently (although their website looks uber professional) they’re still starting up and don’t often pay contributors.

So what have I learnt? Do my homework! Don’t send out work to any website that looks good. And it’s possible to deal with things in a constructive way without getting upset…

Practical philosophy was amazing last night – I’ll update you on what we learnt soon!

The middle way…

// August 13th, 2008 // No Comments » // Decisions, Publishing, Writing

I’m not angry any more (thank goodness!)
I don’t do so well with anger – it kind of gets into my blood and makes me feel fizzy and agitated.
But I still feel wronged, and I realised that it’s an unusual feeling for me. I don’t think people take advantage of me much… I feel lucky to be able to say this!

It’s interesting, though, because as I was deciding what to do about this situation (an online literary journal publishing my work without my consent, for those of you out of the loop) my immediate response was – just let it go! When things make me feel bad, I naturally want them out of my life. It always seems to me to be an either/or argument. Either you’re furious and ranting and can’t concentrate OR you let it go and don’t do anything about it.

But I think there has to be a middle way. I used to rile against the notion of the middle way, because I thought it meant being mediocre and not getting much done. Now I’ve realised that the middle way represents balance, and I am all about balance.

So what’s the balanced thing to do here? Take action, without negative emotion. Remove the emotional charge and just make sure that the situation is resolved. Is this obvious to everyone else? Is it just me who doesn’t see how much sense this makes, and has spent the last couple of decades either/or-ing?

So I’m going to get in touch with the publisher of the magazine and ask them to resolve the situation, and if they don’t I’m going to publish a warning against them for other writers to read. I just hate the thought that there are editors and publishers out there who are just grabbing people’s writing without any thought or respect directed to the writers. It takes all the joy out of it, you know?

I’ll keep you posted….
Incidentally, the way I reached this middle way conclusion was by asking myself, “What would a wise woman do?” so I’m being a good philosophy student in the process!

The Tale of the Sheep-Lion.

// August 7th, 2008 // Comments Off // Decisions, Inspiration, Life (and the living of it), Philosophy

It’s Friday, so I thought it might be time for a little storytelling session… So sit back, make yourself a cup of tea, and enjoy.

There once was a baby lion cub whose mother died. Orphaned, he was taken in by a flock of sheep who taught him how to eat grass and how to bleat, and how to move as one with the flock. They loved the baby lion, and he loved them, but there was a part of him that knew that he didn’t really fit in. One day, a fully grown lion came bounding over the hill and into the middle of the flock. The sheep all ran away in hysteria, but the young sheep-lion recognised the similarity of the lion to himself, and approached him. In time, the lion taught the lion cub what it meant to be a lion (although he never once ate sheep!)

Now obviously, I’ve paraphrased that (probably quite badly) – it’s from my practical philosophy course. But what it serves as is a bit of a parable. We take on the nature of those around us, because it’s what everyone does. But then one day a lion appears – either externally in the form of an event or the ending of a relationship or an illness etc – or internally, when we suddenly have a lightbulb moment. And in that moment, when we’re face to face with our ‘lion’ we’re reminded that we’re more than human. We see the truth of the situation.

We acquire certain traits to play the game of life, and they’re good and necessary. But they aren’t all that there is to us. We all have a number of different roles – daughter/son, mother/father, boyfriend/girlfriend, employee/employer, teacher/student, friend. We all have these roles, and we can play them beautifully, so long as we remember that they aren’t all there is to us. The layers that we coat ourselves in – which might seem permanent and substantial – get shattered when we’re exposed to the truth. Our world demands to be interpreted differently.

And that, I think, is something to be thought about…

Why life is like walking home at night:

// August 7th, 2008 // 4 Comments » // Inspiration, Life (and the living of it), Philosophy

Yip, it’s time for more philosophical musings… and seeing as I didn’t update you on last week’s practical philosophy course, you’ll be getting a double dose – today and tomorrow! (Actually, you might be getting fairly regular doses of philosophical findings -I just can’t help but write about, it’s such fascinating stuff….)
So here goes:

We spoke, last week, and the nature of the self. We all know the old, ‘Know Thyself’ adage, but what does it really mean? Possibly, that in the search for wisdom we should all be searching to know ourselves, to know who we really are. Because beyond our personalities and quirks and likes and dislikes, there is something constant, something that doesn’t change.

Think back to when you were six or seven – just starting school. Now obviously that person is completely different to the person you are today (and not just because you can read!) but I’m willing to bet that there’s something constant, something that hasn’t changed… And that something is your self.

There’s a huge amount of ourselves that is shifting – our thoughts, our emotions, our world view even – but what we’re trying to find, here, is that part that remains unchanged. It’s all about dis-covering (uncovering) the layers of who we think we are to find out who we really are. I love this!
Of course, it’s a circular journey. It’s one of those ‘arriving at the end to realise that you’re back at the beginning’ journeys… but I like that. There’s no destination, not really. There’s no rush.

You hear so many explanations of the spiritual journey, or the search for meaning, or truth, and so often they feel (to me) like candy floss – insubstantial, you know? But here I’ve been given an explanation that honestly makes sense to me. You ready?
This journey to discover who you really are, this life of ours, is like walking home at night. And we’re walking home along a street lit by streetlights. Only there are gaps between the streetlights – moments when we’re walking the path in the dark. And this is life…

In light of this, they have a couple of words of advice to offer.
When choosing a path to follow, choose one that is easy for you, that suits you and makes sense. Choose one that is well lit, and that has been travelled before. And then speed up! When you’re moving fast, you don’t notice the gaps of darkness between the streetlights as much as when you’re dawdling.

I think sometimes in life we’re very clear about living a meaning-full life, and we really work at it and achieve great things. And then work and TV and chores and shopping and living living living get in the way and we kind of forget what we were up to earlier, forget how we were finding the depth we crave. And those are the dark moments – when we’ve strayed off the path. But what’s so essential to remember is that even in those moments there’s a streetlight up ahead. The gaps between pools of light might be pretty substantial, but there’s always another light around the corner.

I find that very reassuring.