One beautiful late spring morning in the garden, I played in the sand pit while my parents attended to their strawberries; I was six.

A heard a buzzing and glanced up to see a bee land on the wall surrounding the pit. It walked around a little, exploring the crevices in the brick. It found no nectar, presumably, and as it took off I jumped up and started chasing it. I circled the garden keeping the bee in my sights. Round and round again. It was so much fun! I began to giggle with delight.

Suddenly the bee swerved. A moment of horror took me as I realised, the hunted had became the hunter. Not laughing now I turned and started running circles around the garden the other way. I started screaming. My parents thought it was all part of the same game and ignored me.

Over my shoulder I could hear the buzzing of the bee, sometimes closer, sometimes more distant. But always there. I was tiring. In my heart I realised that the bee was relentless. And it was going to get me.

The fruitlessness of the chase and the inevitable sting scared me plenty. There was nowhere safe I could run. In my barely developed brain I understood without really understanding that I couldn’t escape into the house, as there wouldn’t be room to circle, and I would be trapped, and stung. But my rapidly fatiguing legs were telling me I couldn’t run forever, and I somehow knew the bee could and would.

My flailing legs eventually stopped doing as I was desperately asking them and I faltered. As I fell the terror of impending pain and the fear of the unknown gripped me.

I was stung. I wailed. My parents came to see why I was crying.

But you know the sting wasn’t that bad. Mum applied something to it and the swelling and pain subsided.

I guess I learnt some important things that day. I learnt empathy. I learnt that fear of the unknown is often worse than the thing you fear. I learnt about karma. I learnt the feeling of futility, and the horror of unstoppable pursuit.

In 2002 he and Jane Ebert discovered that people were usually happier with decisions that they could not change because they concentrated on the positive aspects. When thinking about reversible decisions they were more objective. The finding, he said, suggested that marriage could prompt love, so he proposed to his girlfriend: “She said yes, and it turned out that the data were right: I love my wife more than I loved my girlfriend.

We have no control over our feelings. We can guide them, but really we’re just sit in messy biological machines, and we’re along for the ride.

Of course you can positively influence your happiness, but you have to understand what will affect it first.

I also like this quote as it confirms my believe that even though we think that modern lifestyles and contraception allow us to find our “one true love”, really a good marriage with a suitably minded partner would make you happier.

There’s a lot to be said for irreversible commitment. In a way it’s a shame divorce is so easy. Go out there, find a partner who is nice, kind, thoughtful and tolerant. Marry them. If they (you both ideally!) have all those qualities you won’t want a divorce. It seems to me, most divorces seem to be caused by intolerance and lack of compromise.

But thinking about that makes me reason that much divorce is due to lack of relationship experience, lack of social know-how. Which goes against what I just said about modern lifestyles. I guess, get lots of experience, but don’t be too obsessed with finding the “one”, nobody is perfect. Getting on really well is about all that’s required in my humble opinion. As long as you enjoy each other’s company, what on earth else are you looking for? Discuss.

Source.

I like this:

Let me tell you a story about my cousin, Steven. Steven wanted to become a musician. He had a rock band he diligently put together, and they recorded an album. When he played the album for me, he described it as a mixture of Green Day with some Linkin Park. He told me how he took the best of both bands and created his own sound.

The problem was, his music was boring, and his band sounded like hundreds of other indie bands.

Steven was just an average looking guy, his band was good but not brilliant, his music was solid, but not different. Steven believed in his band, and he was just good enough for everyone to encourage him to go on working on music, but never good enough to attract a fan base.

But Steven never even tried to build up fans. He never played his music for totally random people, and asked them for their opinion. All he did was try to get the people at the record labels interested in his music. He called and hounded, he stalked and staked out. He kept chasing those labels for years and years, and then suddenly gave up.

Steven did not care about the music. Steven cared about the money. Steven did not concentrate on getting his music to the people, he concentrated on getting his music to the people who would guarantee him money and connections.

Love what you do, or don’t bother.

I also love this Oscar Wilde quote that I saw in a lovely south-east-england pub t’other day:

I like men with a future and women with a past.

Sexist? Yes, but I figure it is somewhat true, and I love both positions and want to meet as many of them as possible.

A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person.

From pearls of wisdom.

I think all of us have wondered what it would be like to be the opposite sex. Be it due to bewilderment, or just casual interest. Norah Vincent did exactly that for 18 months, and it made a truly fascinating story.

I could go on about how warmed I was to hear a woman understand our side of courtship. The devaluing properties of a casual unimpressed appraisal with the eyes, the “No” before you even get a chance to ask. An understanding for the pedestal that women force us to try and climb, one split down the middle, where we should be tall and strong and brave and in charge, but sensitive and understanding and submissive at the same time. An understanding for the power women have over us, we really would do anything to make the women we love happy, you can only imagine what power that can grant you. If you can’t get that power over your man, he’s either clever or not in love with you.

But I think this piece would be more interesting if I talked about what it taught me about women.

As a man, insecure as the next, wanting to be masculine, well-liked, loved, it is comforting that my woman likes me for who I am, that the way I look and walk, the way I dress, is really not as important in the long run of things as the way I behave. Not as important as who I am.

It is hard that I never know with my girlfriend how much time I should spend making her laugh, being honest with her, telling stories or listening to the way she feels. Telling her the way I feel. Am I being judged for not being the alpha male often enough? not taking more control of the relationship, not letting her have her way more often? These are questions I have perhaps never asked, but this article has made me ponder for the first time.

There have been times I’ve had the chance to prove my masculinity to Steph. From pushing wheel barrels full of earth, to taking the brunt of a verbal attack from a motorcyclist who our car almost hit, even though I was in the passenger seat of the car. But did I prove anything? Did I lose her respect somehow because I didn’t hit the guy, did I gain her respect because I kept the attention off her, and I didn’t react to his violent assault with violence in return? Did I lose her respect because afterwards I lost my temper, and she was its path?

We wear man-suits over our real selves. But how much should we let our man suit control us, and how much is it necessary to allow it control, so that we keep our women?