Never Ends.

I was going to write something passionate, about gun violence, gun control and the simply incomprehensible continuation of this morbid fascination with weapons in the United States. Not that the US is alone in this; I believe all of the elements which contribute to these recurring massacres exist elsewhere, and yet the US manages to provide the perfect conditions for it to thrive—conditions which it seems reluctant to change.

 But I’ve written about this before.

 Here.

 And here.

 And here.

 And here. 

I’m at the point where I can’t get angry about it anymore, and I deliberately remove myself from the internet when they happen, because I can’t get as sad about it as I used to, either. Why bother? I think. It changes nothing. Have I really become so cynical, as I advance in years? Or is this way of turning inward, of switching the world off, just a safety mechanism, just a means of survival so the grief of this world doesn’t cause me to cave in and collapse?

 I saw the familiar anger and distraught outrage emerging on the internet and over the radio, of course. However, this time, there’s a difference I’ve noticed about the reaction to Orlando, and it is that I am not alone in my resignation. There is a sense of despair which wasn’t there after previous shootings. There is the realisation that if Sandy Hook changed nothing, why would this one be different? Despite being the biggest mass shooting in the US to date, the fact that it occurred in an LGBT nightclub, a club attended by a group of people already vilified by so many, means that this will simply be yet another shooting.

 This time, here is a sad acceptance: This is the way it is. It’ll always be this way. This changes nothing.

 That is perhaps the biggest tragedy of all. That all these deaths will be simply added to the list of names of those already gunned down, and that they will precede those who will be gunned down in the future. There have been protests and anguished pleas, but this time, there are shrugged shoulders and broken sighs, and a despondent public who finally feel they are utterly powerless to stop this disease of hate.

 So well done, NRA. Congratulations, gun manufacturers. You spread the fear and the lies and the hatred, and we are broken. We still love, we still care, but we are tired, and sad, and nothing changes, and this cycle never ends.

You win.

But before you celebrate your victory, perhaps you’d like to wash all that blood off your hands?

It’s Not Goodbye.

I’ve been neglecting path: ethic. More to the point, I’ve been avoiding it.

It’s not that I have nothing to say. I always have things to say!

But it’s just finding the time to sit down and write it, and write it well. And I’m definitely a proponent of finding the time to write. So when I say, ‘I don’t have the time to write for path: ethic,’ what I’m really saying is that I don’t want to make the time to write it.

That sounds quite rude, especially to those of you who read, so let me explain myself further.

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Cooking Long Distance.

Last weekend, I was wracking my brain to think of something interesting for my Offspring to have for tea, which didn’t require a lot of work on my part and which used only the ingredients I had in the house. Aha, I thought after a while, I will make mini quiches!

But I didn’t want to use puff pastry, and I didn’t have any shortcrust in the freezer, so I needed to make the pastry myself. And although I have several (hundred?!) recipe books, I couldn’t decide which would be the best to use. So I rang my mum to ask which she used.

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Far From Home.

I went for a run today, and I ended up running further than I had planned. I had set the time on my phone and I had a feeling when I was about halfway through, that I was going to end my run much further from home than I had expected. The trouble was that I knew that I’d be tired and I wouldn’t be able to run all the way home–which was quite a way. But there wasn’t a choice, of course. How else was I going to get home?! I’d run as far as I could, and then I’d walk.

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Let’s Talk About Death, Baby.

I always find it interesting that the euthanasia debate pops up in the media quite regularly, but that we don’t ever seem to get anywhere with passing a law about it. Perhaps the day will come when that changes, but until then, it means that individuals and their families (and often the medical staff) are left in a legal limbo, where euthanasia or assisted suicide happens everyday, but behind closed doors, and without a broader conversation.

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A Life Well Lived.

On the weekend, a friend got some news about his mother. She has been sick with a chronic condition for a while now, but in recent weeks, her health has gone downhill. She’s had to accept some intervention which indicate that ultimately, the end is coming, sooner rather than later. It’s sobering.

Even though she has been sick for a while, and we’ve all known that the disease is terminal, it’s still confronting. I pondered on it a lot last night, and talked it over with the Handsome Sidekick. For most of us, I suppose (although I certainly don’t have the figures) we don’t have a long time to contemplate our imminent deaths, especially if that death comes earlier than expected. I’m sure we’d all like to imagine we’ll live a long and healthy life and that the end of it, have a comfortable, and hopefully quick, death.

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Who Cares?

Well, the poor blog has been neglected over the past month or so, and there is good reason for that–I’ve been busy (I know, but I mean, more than usual) doing a short course in business so that I can better market myself as an editor and possibly publish others’ books somewhere down the line. It’s been very interesting and I’ve not only met some other inspiring people, but I’ve also learnt a lot about small business and some of the ways in which I can hopefully make mine work.

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Guest Post: Lessons in the Loungeroom.

Yes, another guest post! Hooray!

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, But Rebecca, we thought you’d given up on guest posts? And to that I would say, ‘Not at all!’ In fact, if you are a regular reader and would like to write on path: ethic as a guest blogger, please let me know!

This week’s post is by Sophie Childs. Sophie is a home educating mother of five who lives in the Welsh Valleys and loves being able to spend so much time with her children. She is an author and freelance writer, and you can find out more about her work at her website www.sophiechilds.com.  Her latest book, We Just Clicked, is available now on Amazon.

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The Week Links: Summer Edition.

Yes, I’ve been a little remiss with the links lately. Who knew summer holidays, swimming lessons, stationery shopping and work (plus the usual busy-ness) would keep me run off my feet these last several weeks? Well, everyone, probably, but it still always comes as a surprise to me that there are not enough hours in the day.

We’re expecting a warm day today–not as warm as Perth, but still summery–and I hope to be able to pick the last of the boysenberries and pretend to get organised for another school week (but no doubt I’ll end up working and/or reading a book and patting the cat. Possibly taking the dog for a walk. Maybe eating some cake…)

Enjoy the links!

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Intimacy and Expectations.

I read an interview with Jarett Kobek about his novel, I Hate the Internet, the other day, and thought some of what he had to say about celebrity and the internet was particularly interesting. Kobek argues that celebrities have now transcended a distinct personality, gender, or sexuality, and instead, are simply ‘celebrity’, as if it were a whole separate breed of person. Leaving that aside for a moment, I found myself thinking about the whole idea of celebrities when I was watching some Dylan Moran videos later in the evening.

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