Undone or undoing?

Photo by Angel Videv on Unsplash

“Some people feel like they don't deserve love. They walk away quietly into empty spaces, trying to close the gaps of the past.” ― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild

I’m sat here listening to Chris Stapleton sing Either Way. There’s a great NPR Tiny Desk session out there if you’re interested to hear him live.

And (of course) it’s Monday.

Another day in the meatgrinder — as Steve Jenkinson (“SJ”) is apt to call it.

My daughter’s boyfriend is sitting next to me (he’s 21) talking about going back to work; he’s been off work for a week having had a major operation on his throat.

And Eddie is somewhere around playing with his ball.

This is life, right?

All of it.

It’s not any different all over the world.

I’m doing this; you’re doing that.

Quoting from SJ:

“We’re on the receiving end of life.”

And that’s sure how it feels.

We don’t so much navigate our lives — as much as we think otherwise — but are blown about, often with little or no sense of what we’re doing or why we’re doing it.

Of course, you may feel strongly disposed to be in control.

I’d say:

“In control of what?”

Your heart, lungs, seeing, breathing and how you’re taken in first by one thing and then another.

But then I’m a lawyer and it’s my business to understand the facts and offer a different point of view.

As a segue, I read this morning that Nick Fisher, writer and broadcaster who lent his fishing expertise to TV and radio shows and co-authored The River Cottage Fish Book was dead; he was 63. Reading his obituary he sounded like someone I’d like to have met.

Don’t ask me why but death, grief and loss have become my signature when I’m not out of tune with my daily work/life balance (I’ve never mastered things). In fact, not a day goes by where I don’t find myself reading or listening to something in this space. At the moment, I’m listening for the nth time to Martin Prechtel who I find wise, clever and deep-rooted with real-life wisdom.

Personally, I wish there were more like him in my bailiwick rather than a bushel of old people who keep themselves hidden. I’m sure or at least I’d like to think that spending a quiet afternoon with one of them over a brew would bring to the surface some wonderful stories and a resonant link to the past — something that wasn’t so full of its self-importance.

Anyhow (as I’m apt to say) I’ve got a very busy day ahead trying to sort out two gnarly quasi-partnership disputes where the parties seem unable to see the common sense wood for the legal trees. Wish me luck.

Take care, Julian