Who am I?

This blog is created to showcase my writing skills (like many millions with similar vague pretensions); and to use as a CV reference perhaps. I also have the idea that a blog can be created which when you look at you will immediately find something worthwhile, and hopefully, thought provoking. So I would like to cut down on superfluous stuff as much as possible. I think I’ve already fallen into this trap so I will try to stop now… because you probably don’t want to know how I broke up with my girlfriend yesterday… oops, sorry, starting now...

Hmm, but maybe you want to know something about who I am and what my interests are. So I South African, living with my parents… I am a completely unambitious person -- at least in the usual sense. I would like to believe that my ambitions lie in the development of self. But perhaps this is just a convenient excuse. My sport of choice is rock-climbing, and I love it to bits. I have in the past suffered from severe fatigue and insomnia and was diagnosed as having CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). It would be true to say that this has been the single biggest influence on my life. And has brought me much self-awareness. To counter the sickness I have had to listen extremely carefully to my body and its needs. It has also been a very isolating disease (who was it that said something like ‘all sickness creates loneliness?). And one that people find it difficult to understand or accept. And I don’t fully accept it myself. Anyway, that brings me to my other main interest: Buddhism (and meditation). Buddhism has given me a wonderful framework for understanding reality and meditation (www.dhamma.org) has brought me peace and relief from many CFS symptoms. I hope you won’t get the wrong idea. Though I hold many Buddhist beliefs I try not to believe anything I can’t verify through the observation of reality.

Okay, so that is me. And starting from now (hehe) less of me, and more quality writing (I hope!) Perhaps this could help guide me:

A writer

‘Interesting, but futile,’ said his diary,

Where day by day his movements were recorded

And nothing but his loves received inquiry;

He knew, of course, no actions were rewarded,

There were no prizes: though the eye could see

Wide beauty in a motion or a pause,

It need expect no lasting salary

Beyond the bowels’ momentary applause.

He lived for years and never was surprised:

A member of his foolish, lying race

Explained away their vices: realized

It was a gift that he possessed alone:

To look the world directly in the face;

The face he did not see to be his own.

Phillip Larkin (collected poems)