When I decided to mark Advent by celebrating serendipity I had no idea that Serendipity would appear at my feet on a morning dog walk. Just where a dog shadow is projected on the pavement you can see a metal insert. This is one of many Sherlock Holmes quotes that run along this street. For a few years Conan Doyle lived on this street and ran his G.P practice here. These quotations are a gentle homage to the author and his most famous character.
I have walked this way hundreds of times and never before have I seen this particular quotation.
It is serendipitously apt because this blog is almost entirely created upon the observation of trifles. And yet I have failed to observe this quote until today. Doubly serendipitously I used to catch my bus home from University College in London opposite 221 b Baker Street the literary address of Sherlock Holmes.
Yesterday, as usual, the plates in my internal dialogue were spinning.
Is there chatter inside your head? Or is it relatively quiet there? There has recently been a conversation in the media, that I have been aware of, about how busy human heads are. Some people have a chatty internal monologue that narrates their life, while others have a quiet, serene inner landscape. The folks with the internal monologue simply cannot imagine not having one — and vice versa.
My head is a busy, busy space. Now I no longer work for an organisation, it is randomly busy constantly.
I have synesthesia. My thinking and doing processes are not quite the same as other people.
Learning new and difficult skills gently eases the vivid fairground that my internal monologue resembles. Conforming to standard thinking for the benefit of learning, set by others quiets my mind. It was hard as a small person to adhere to the thinking processes of external forces but by the age of ten I had pretty much learned that life was a lot easier that way.
Life as a semi-retired person whose only work is Life, Art and using my transferable skills,does not involve some of the things I struggle with most. Struggling was actually good for me.
I have never quite managed to quit the Fairground for the things on the list below. I pretended to with limited success. I may have fooled others but I knew I was just pretending.
1. Advanced Maths.
2. The Harvard referencing system
3. Foreign languages
4. Colour by numbers paintings.
5. Following instructions.
There are many other things that I struggle with but deferring to my synesthesia, inexplicably, helps me seem competent.
This means that these days my head is much more Fairground than Zen Garden. Because it can be. Leaving my fully creative head at the age of tenish was an entirely pragmatic and practical way to proceed into adulthood. Easing my way back, more fully into my creative head at 60 has been an absolute pleasure. I know that I can function outside the Fairground but the Fairground is a more fertile place for me. Life has given me the tools I need to slip into the Zen Garden. I am grateful to have the choice.
P.S Going into an actual Fairground scares the pants off me. Way, way too stimulating. Entering a Zen space however is absolute pleasure. My internal monologue and real life sit happily at odds with one another.
This blog was inspired by a conversation I had in a choir last night and a conversation when I was mature student studying art.
“Isn’t it great to be yourself again when you work less” ✓
” Synesthesia ? You must love Kandinsy” X
White Zig Zags. Kandinsky. Peggy Guggenheim Collection. Venice.
Below is a link that gives some insight into how synesthesia affected Kandinsy.
I realise that it really is great to be able to think more like myself now I work less. But because I understand my own Fairground better with age it doesn’t necessarily help me to decode Kandinsky and his Fairground. He may not have had a fairground!
Will someone ever write a learned article about me mentally singing Gaudette and painting a Christmas bauble that looks like a blackberry.
I think not! Link below to the definitive Gaudette
theoldmortuary.design 