Speak the truth, do not become angered, and give when asked, even be it a little. Buddha
Exactly. Speak the truth. If I react well to anything it’s truth. I simply hate lying and I disrespect those who lie. It diminishes the liar, and the receiver of the lie by association. A lie hurts, it disappoints. Leaving a trail of negativity behind.
Besides, ‘the truth will out…’ William Shakespeare
Our airwaves are filled with lies currently, as we here in Australia, head toward a national election. Goodness, there are so many long noses everywhere that they twist together like an espaliered orchard!
Ironically, when I was looking for an image of the book character to illustrate my point, I came across this curious article in the Daily Mail of all things, about the Pinocchio Effect.
I didn’t mean to write on truth but what with politicians shouting in my ear daily (curse them) and reading a most entertaining memoir, it has set me thinking.
Which leads me to Miriam Margolyes, whose memoir This Much is True, being the catalyst for thoughts on truth.
Ms. Margolyes says, ‘If you tell the truth – and I always do – you shame the devil.’ And it was that one line that gave me pause for thought. We live in a world where liars scream ‘Fake news’, where social media accounts are filled with lies, where creating a lie or fantasy, is more important than being real, warts and all. And I wish the devil, the perpetrators of lies, would be shamed. But sadly, liars are good at what they do, polished even. It makes integrity look like an Everest that will never be climbed.
I’m saddened by those who are tangled in a web of lies and deceits. It seems so pointless, don’t you think? Such a waste of time and energy. Give me a world filled with kindness and honesty and I will offer you my lifelong loyalty.
Dead simple really…
Bookshelves:
Still with Marillier’s A Song of Flight but ¾’s of the way through. Such a great storyteller. Storyteller in the most elemental meaning of the word. Fantasy that is shadowy and laced with the mists of legend. Her greatest skill, apart from building worlds that seem so normal but are not, is the strength of her characterisation. These are not pastiche characters – they could be living in our villages, next door, down the road. Colloquial. I love that.
On Kindle, I’m still with Michie’s Buddhist inspired fiction about HHC – His Holiness’s Cat, often called Rinpoche. Awaken the Kitten Within. And still grateful that this book dropped into my lap just now. I’m learning about kharma, sunyata, about the bardo state and reincarnation. Heavy perhaps but who better to teach me than a cat who has nine lives?
On my computer, I’m beta-reading The Dark Earth by popular historical fiction writer Gordon Doherty. It’s a prequel to his Empires of Bronze series and moves seamlessly. It’s about an era – The Hittites – of which I know nothing and is proving to be another evocative, confident and able story written by someone who really knows his onions.
Doherty has a substantial following with his Hittite, Byzantine and Roman series and I recommend his list to any hist.fict readers reading my newsletter.
In audio, the above mentioned Margolyes memoirs: ‘This Much is True.’ This is one of the most honest, hilarious and poignant memoirs I’ve read. I confess her words on her mother’s stroke and eventual death had me weeping as I remembered my own Mum’s last days.
Margolyes also impresses me with her deep and honest love for her friends. So much respect for those about whom she cares. But a caution to those who might wish to read the memoir – you do have to be broadminded. No blinkered attitudes here, thank you!
“Margolyes weaves a riveting tale into this or, more accurately, multiple tales, and as she points out, those the lawyers allowed her to retain. From declaring her love to Vanessa Redgrave to being told to be quiet by the Queen, this book is packed with brilliant, hilarious stories.” Better Reading 20 Sept 2021.
Then this, from the Guardian: click it and read.
Boredom Busters:
TBH, I’m rarely bored. There’s always something I want to do, (I have a list which I hate calling my bucket list) often prevented of course by what I need or have to do.
Walking. Pure escapism. My friends often say ‘Let’s walk together,’ but the truth is it’s a very personal time where I process things in my life – often unconsciously. I’m observant of Nature, be it beach or bush and I can’t do that if I’m talking. It’s important to be aware of the gossamer delicacy of a spider’s web, the crunch of a wave, the cadmium yellow or fierce orange flame of a tiny shell almost hidden in seawrack. When I walk, my mind is always searching for words to describe what I see. And if you know me at all, you will know I love words. The word this week is ’evocative’ – simply because it sounds like it should. Eeee-voke. It’s beautiful, as if it’s wrapped in velvet.
Back to walking though. I commune with Dog. He’s my friend, my companion – I owe him time and attention and his joy at walking is tangible. We come back better individuals. Not least because he gets my step-count up in the 10,000’s for the day.
I often also tell myself the next few hundred words of my Work in Progress (WIP). My mind is clearer when I’m walking, so the words become more appropriate, reactions swifter, emotions sharper. All grist to the writer’s mill. Which brings me to writing…
Writing. I write because I love the creativity and feel a lesser person when I don’t write. And selfishly, despite that I’m writing historical fiction novels for entertainment, I also write to escape life. When I enter my 12th century trading house with its intrigues, I have left my own life far behind. Time flies and I can look at the clock an hour later, feeling as if a mere 15 minutes have passed.
Embroidery. Like my much-loved mum, I can’t sit with idle hands and will always stitch something or other.
It might be the canvas work spectacle case (almost finished), a crewel cushion-cover of an auricula (for a friend), or more pocket hearts for www.1000Hearts.com.au Soon I’m going to a sewing group to learn a new project. More on that another day…
Gardening. Is creative, alive with the wonders of nature, it glides through the seasons giving so much hope. It creates that simple thing – joy. Finding an insect which is a first-time visitor and knowing something must be going right in the garden because of it, seeing new leaf buds on a stem, finding seeds have sprouted. Pulling weeds. Soil and compost. Then there’s colour, form and texture. It’s calming and grounding in a world that is tumultuous.
Today for example: I noticed in my garden how rich autumn is. Like a perfectly coloured rug from some exotic location like Samarkand or Constantinople.
The tints glow and on this windless day, the leaves float down. Like letters from Nature and every one a different story.
Other. Ballet, cooking cakes and slices. And looking after my grandson from whom I learn so much every day I’m with him.
So, you see, these are my simple truths this week.
If you’ve read this far, I applaud you – as you can see, it’s a pretty mundane and mostly introverted existence with none of the explosive reveals of a Margolyes memoir.
But maybe there’s time…
Who knows?
Prue, so enjoyed reading this. I totally understand about being lost in your writing. For me it’s a respite from ‘the real world’ and it’s current stresses. It was good to return to it after so long, and it was mainly your encouragement along with Dave’s wish to see it published, that unlocked that door for me. Thank you x
We're much alike in several ways Prue, I detest people telling me lies, I might not like the truth, but lying is worse. I do love my garden, and like you I need to keep my hands busy, I can "sit" for hours happily if I'm stitching or knitting ( mainly stitching) but if I have nothing in my hands I get very restless and can't sit. Lovely autumnal photos xx