Thank you God for a wonderful sleep. I’m on my boat and enjoy the rocking motion in this harbour. I would have liked to have headed out for the weekend but it’s been raining so much and chilly, cloudy grey too. I’ve not tested my heater. The dock is so crowded I’ll not be able to moor again without some one on the dock. It all seemed overwhelming. Instead I read. I’ve been a major slouch. Enjoying it only for it’s novelty.
Gilbert has kept me busy throwing the ball about the boat. I heard him snacking. He’s resting now. We had a late night walk so I’m sure his bladder is fine. He barks at the door if he needs to go out. I took him up yesterday morning this time and he turned around after facing the rain and returned to bed. My little dog of comfort. Without his heavy fur coat I think the heavy rain is uncomfortable. He doesn’t mind the drizzle.
I’m not particularly joyous and free today but that usually follows sloth and illness:
There’s work I could be doing on the boat. I might just measure one piece of wood that needs replacing or get a real latch to remove my several year old jury rig with bungee chord. Bungee chords are marvellous but they weren’t meant to be permanent solutions. I could clean up the loose cables and even run the new cable from the tv to the radio so I could have better speaker accompaniment. There’s a lot of tidying that needs to be done in this boat but it’s likely to wait till I decide to go on some expedition where the boat needs to be lean and mean. That’s the ultimate spring cleaning time for a boat. It’s really close to offshore ready right now. If I didn’t have work I’d begin various projects knowing I had an open ended schedule to finish them. It’s so easy to put off today knowing if I ran into a snag I’d not get the time for possibly weeks to complete the thing. Better to hire someone so I can work while this work gets done. I love working on my boat but not when I’ve got a full time job.
I thought of driving down to the US yesterday and could today especially with the nexus to ensure no lengthy delay at the border. Yet driving is it’s own kind of work these days. I’m really entrenching my sloth here. Swimming was a consideration and a meeting too but then there’s Gilbert and I don’t like leaving him in the car with all the dog thieves about. I do leave him at times but figure the least number the better. (I just saw my older neighbour going by in his Harley Davidson jacket. He’s now one of the dock old guys. There are several. We’re a loose community. The couples are here too, coming and going and seeming more ‘normal’. Some of the other guys have kids that come and visit but not ex wives. Then there are the girlfriends. Weird world this boat world. When I was in the RV I felt more like suburbia. This is definitely a different space.
I could paint my chain again on a sunny day. The depth markings wore off years ago. I’ve siliconing to do. The roof just dribbled down onto the table. It’s so little I just put a paper towel down and remember to keep electronics away from that place. (There, I just tightened a hatch screw and think I’ve stopped it.)
I keep thinking of getting another stainless steel rifle. I’ve the new membership to the rifle club and thought of driving out there and shooting some targets. It’s covered over so even in the rain it would be a thing to do. I don’t know if the rifle store is open. I even thought that going to the states I could stop at the big new Cabelas store across the border and look at rifles.
I like my 223. It’s really rated for deer and rabbits and such. Too small a load for hunting bigger game. I have the 22 but it’s really only rated for rabbits and birds. So when I’m out in he woods during hunting season and see ruffed grouse but am really hunting deer if I had this caliber I could shoot the grouse as well as the deer or shoot a rabbit as well. I had the 30:30 which was overkill for grouse but good enough for bear and deer. My 30:06 is good for everything and my 300 win mag is ultimately for moose and big game. The 223 I have is the ultimate target rifle. I got it on sale, a Chinese rifle. I actually planned to give it away when I got it, knowing if I liked it I’d want the stainless steel model because I hunt mainly in the wet. Further if I sail up north I’d take it with me and only stainless does okay in the sea air.
Bear hunting season starts in a couple of month. Goose hunting season opens next week. I have the perfect double barrel 12 gauge goose gun but don’t know if I’ll be able to make the time.
I really should have been fishing this weekend. Or writing the great canadian novel. Or doing sit ups. I’m fat and ornery as a result. I could be socializing too. There’s a lot of ‘shoulds’ in my internal world which I rather happily ignore as left overs from a more focussed past. I lack he discipline I once had but have something else in stead. I think it’s called ‘surrender’. I also have more balance and some self care. I read more schlock and watch more movies when in the past I really was intent on learning. Now I tend to study in an applied way.
I ve a book launch for my book Psychiatry and Addiction, Personal Perspectives on March 1st , 6 to 9 pm at the Alano Club Granville and 7th. I think how much better I could have written that. But I’d have needed more stretches of time. I laughed learning my academic friends who write a book a year have 5 mornings a week for study and writing. Here I’m seeing patients 12 hours a day, preparing countless med legal reports, studying what I need to know for the patients I see, living a weekend life of boating and motorcycling and doing a number of activities and yet somehow with the help for friends get a book done. It’s the first one, not counting poetry books. I’m excited by it because I can see how I can write more with more time and focus and less distractions.
I look forward to retirement one day where I could ‘book’ my mornings to write to a specific purpose. Then I think also of taking a few weeks to write a book. I could do that as well.
I’ve just reviewed the notes I’ve done on Sexuality and don’t really think I have enough to say but under the topic of spirituality I’ve more material so it seems like I’m going forward with that as the next project.
I am tempted to write a volume II to Psychiatry and Addiction - with all the latest brain chemistry and genetics and MRI data. To do that I’d need some weeks of study and writing time. I know now I could do a good job. Writing this book was like writing my first paper. Once I got the first one done the rest followed easily. I feel I’ve definitely gone over a hurdle.
I like thinking about God more than dopamine. I know about salience and up and down regulations and all that but I really prefer to think and write about God. My relationship with the unknowable is much more interesting to me than the mechanics of pathways and glucose utilization. The God thought is a love story. I’m happier when I’m considering that more than when I’m thinking about neuroanatomy. That’s very functional whereas there’s art and beauty in the infinite. I like looking for words to describe the relationship I have with this mystery.
I even enjoy somewhat arguing with those who insist they know God more than I do. I’m suspect of those who hear God’s message as a call to arms. To me it’s a wee small voice but at times it has been more. I’ve actually had the sense that God has put me on the ice and I’ve been chosen to play though mostly I feel I’m on the bench. Right now I’m on the bench. I’m sitting here knowing God is all and everywhere but that doesn’t answer my question what I’m to do today. Certainly I know I’m not meant to chop someone’s head off. I’m muddling along. Muddling is the best description of my journey right now.
That’s okay with God though personally I’d like a little more inspiration. I”m older. That’s a telling factor. Older I recall all the dashing about. I recall all the promises too. I also think it’s good just to sit here and maybe get back to reading.
People think I should make more money but I was just reflecting how in Canada when I make a lot of money by working a lot harder than the herd, the parasites take the excess. There’s no longer a sense that there’s any protection in our community. Right now I’m waiting to hear if the banks lost or took my savings. Every day a new lawsuit afflicts my fellows and the easiest way to make money is to attack someone on false accusations. The politically correct are stealing by the minute. But that’s all fear based thinking. It does sap my will to get up and do something useful. The people who I employ take advantage of my extra work and generosity too so it’s always a question of why work harder.
In Canada the welfare state is so strong that everyone gets by coasting. And there’s little benefit in running ahead carrying extra loads. It’s not like communist countries where those who do that are punished but the reward for extra work is punished here by higher taxes and more and more condemnation. It makes spending a day reading and watching tv seem reasonable. If I'm truthful I'm really hiding out. I'm isolating.I'm hibernating. I'm social phobic.
I remember that week I sat in a bar for the first time in my life. I’d been in bars and worked in bars but never hung out in one for a week. We were waiting out storm and there was little else to do in the port so it seemed like the thing to do, hang out at the bar. We chatted and drank and time passed. It was the most useless I’ve ever been in my life but it felt good as a ‘change’ from the disciplined focused responsible way of being that is my norm. Now so many of my superiors are the folk who sat in bars and 'networked'. They get huge grants and keep the money to themselves. Lots of vague down time and lots of committee and even new names for phoney research. I'm never invited because I'm not seen by the 'government sort' as a 'team player'. I've been a 'whistleblower'. I've been the one to stop killing and expose graft and corruption so I'm not 'welcome'. Live and let live is my motto today. No good deed goes unpunished. Yet I can say I've stopped directly personally a half dozen killing machines in the system and survived the back lash by those who were supposed to protect people and didn't.
The other such time of extended sloth was when I watched the NHL play offs. We were working on an old car and watching the play offs. A group of guys. None of us working. I was waiting to start a new position while the guys I was with were all on disability or comp. It was an amazingly laid back existence. Upward mobility is really costly compared to downward drifting.
It’s like today. I’ve no real demands. There’s lots I could do. Even things I should do but I’m just thinking of reading this old Robert Ludlum book and the new William Gibson book. The Ludlum I picked up in a book bin, a paper back so enjoyable to read. The William Gibson latest, "The Peripherals' is a kindle. I've been reading it on my iPhone. It's typical William Gibson genius, incredible writing and genius ideas. It's just that I can only read my iPhone for a time before my eyes bother me. That's still the advantage of real books. If I had my kindle reader in the larger format it might be easier. I still enjoy real books more for long stretches of reading. Digital is great for research and short reads but nothing like a paper back for hours of reading.
I think another cup of coffee is in order. Gilbert and I walked over for a burger on the saturday that was like this too. Rainy day. I might get out the guitar. If I had more of these days I ‘d start sketching for sure. I really wanted to sketch better. It’s practice. I could be studying a language too. I remember last year I made my way through a major theology textbook and read a neuroanatomy text along with a new physiology text. I also tried to learn another language. All heavy reading. Today it's light reading. Great past times.
Today I’m not even motivated to get off the couch and go look at another rifle. Walking around stores is fun. When I was with Laura last week I got some shirts and underwear to get me through the week. I love the new Calvin Klein underwear material. It doesn't bunch up in the ass when sitting at the office. I could drop my laundry off. I’ve got clothes for a few days. The freezer needs cleaning. I could change the sheets on the bed. There’s more tidying to do.
This weekend I’ve been recovering from the flu. Each day I’ve been better with less sore throat and less cough. My sinuses are no longer constantly stuffed. I only had a little fever yesterday. Sunday was a great day especially with Kevin and AJ and the god kids.
When I got home though I’d thought of taking the boat out but my fever was back ,I was exhausted and after a nap it was too late to go out. I don’t know what time the fuel barge is open to and didn’t want to compound setting out with the variable of darkness. I’m so much more cautious with age. More laid back too. After the nap I felt well again but didn’t like the cold rain and wind so thought my recovering ‘cold’ would benefit from more rest. Yet maybe if I’d gone skiing at Whistler or taken the boat out it wouldn’t have made any difference to the outcome of the cold. We say rest but I’ve been taking it easy for a couple of weekends because elf this silly flu and don’t know really if it speeded up the healing. The fact is I’m getting better steadily so shouldn’t pull up the plant to look at the roots to see how well it’s growing. I think illness,especially my own, is such a lousy excuse for sloth and gluttony.
Sloth is so politically correct too. No one counts the ‘sins of omission’. The ‘system’ kills daily with delays, negligence and incompetence yet any ‘sin of commission’ is attacked furiously. While some of the government and courts slide further into the past the sciences are flying ahead spectacularly with mars expedition, anti vitals, robotics, new probe planned to Saturn, organic computers. It's amazing. I loved the personal helicopter being developed. Stem cell research is exciting too.
It’s not like I haven’t ‘identified’ the things that need doing. A whole lot of people like to get ‘administrative’ jobs because they think they’re good at ‘identifying’ problems. They’re ‘critics’ and ‘critics’ are a dime a dozen. I’m a great consultant. The trouble is that there’s a real excess of chiefs and not enough Indians. Even here the administrator in my mind has identified the ugly task of cleaning the freezer and my Indian hands would rather type the doggerel or hold a book.
Cleanliness is next to godliness. I thought having a wife or girlfriend who was obsessive compulsive this way would be a great thing but I always hooked up with girls are kind of dirty and happy to leave things to gather dust or who like to order me to do these things for them. I remember one marriage particularly tainted by her bossiness. In retrospect I really never was that good of a mate. I made a great wife at times. No child reward. My cohort live for their children and grand children. It gives them their motivation. So many are trying to make their places attractive so their kids will visit. I've got Gilbert. He's happy if I keep him well supplied in tennis balls. He'll go anywhere I go. Any hour now he'll want me to take him for a walk. Children come and go but dogs stay.
There’s that bitterness that creeps into my thoughts. Self pity and bitterness are easily identifiable. I have to forgive and let the past compost. It was never one sided either. It was ‘us’ and always ‘us’ and not the paranoid ‘he did, she did’ that makes the courts such a money game. Pseudo war. I’d rather go over to fight the IS but my back hurts. War is a young man’s sport. I figure all I could be today is a sniper because it’s a lying down job. The kids are all lining up for the office jobs of flying drones. It’s just like video games.
Brad Pitt in Fury was a great movie. I could drive a tank but really expect if a war happened I’d be immediately on a ship like this one and somehow expected to heal people rather than kill folk. My training and skills are all in healing. Yet now the Supreme Court with the typical lawyer ignorance of medicine wants us to ‘assist suicide’. Lawyers don’t have a hippocratic oath so their fundamental ignorance about our profession is destroying it. I’m a dinosaur.
Oops that’s another thing that’s upset me. Work gets under my skin. The mixed messages and the ‘new medicine’. Doctors can lose their licenses for hugging patients but not for killing them. The abortionists are the richest most protected doctors. I feel like I alone am the only one who sees the blasphemy of the supreme court deciding doctors can assist suicide. Fundamentally shouldn’t that be a decision made by the Canadian Medical Association. but the law has no respect for doctors and over rode us pushing marijuana and now death. What’s become of this country?
Oops, there I go again. Not being ‘accepting’. God’s in charge. All is well. It’s the Charge of the Light Brigade. It’s Gallipoli. It’s all those lemming charges into the ocean. It’s basically fear and I have to live in hope. Someone is sane. The media always confuse the issue to sell passion but still it seems thanatos is trumping eros these days. Again negative thinking.
Be positive. Be hopeful. Trust. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is a bitch when the errant one is your own ego.
Back to the book. Thank you God for this time of ‘waiting’.
Some recent pictures: George Laura's new cat is big on hiding. He's probably still under the bed. There's a lot to be said for this hiding out. It's okay. If I'd taken the boat out and anchored somewhere I'd be doing about the same thing but feeling more 'accomplished'. George is just thankful for another day under the bed probably. We both have water and food and litter boxes or their equivalent. Gilbert's napping. Maybe a nap would be the thing. No I think I'll read some more. I showered last night. I've avoided getting dressed too. Still in t shirt and shorts. Thank you God for 'time out'.
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