The centre of our universe

Watching my son playing, it strikes me that the differences between his outlook on life and mine are worlds apart. He demands, he takes, he lives each moment without concept of consequence. He is unapologetically selfish - and I don't mind a bit. But I wonder at what point he will become aware, as many of the rest of us are, that imposing nothing but our own wants on those around us is something of a drain.

Of course, there are those among us who never realise this. Those who seem totally indifferent to the fact that other people exist just as fully and consequentially as they do, that others have wants and needs as well as them. Those who perhaps somehow believe that everyone else in the world was put there just for their amusement and employ. Of course, I speak of no-one in particular.

There are people who believe the world owes them a living. There are people who want to be like this but just can't quite cut it. And there are those who live for everyone else. How does this happen? Is it inbuilt, or is it social conditioning, instilled in us by our families from an early age. Is the eldest in a family more likely to take, whilst the youngest is raised to share and give? Perhaps it is more complicated than that.

Selfishness is a funny thing. We are all selfish to some extent - that episode of Friends where Joey tells Phoebe that there is no such thing as an unselfish act is surprisingly spot on. Whether it be for personal happiness, professional advance, or even just to assuage our own Catholic sense of guilt - he's right. Or at least, it's very hard to think of one.

Personally I find selfishness easier to take in others if they so it unself-consciously. Yet it annoys me more than anything when people use it as a self-contained excuse. "Sorry, I was being selfish." That is not an excuse, it's a description. I maintain - we are all selfish, it's just that some of us are more ready to yielf to the selfishness of others. But why? To satisfy our own sense of martyrdom? I am guilty of that to some extent - of course, there is a practical level at which I know certain chores need to get done, but I am useless at asking for help - perhaps because I would rather have the satisfaction afterwards of having done it all alone. Being hard done by. It's a luxury of those who have never really been hard done-by - a bit like rich people saying money doesn't buy happiness. I'm not saying it's the answer to everything - but it makes the process of figuring out what is a damn sight easier.

So I joined this writing course, and from it, a splinter writers' group. And lo and behold, what do I find, within just a few short months. Everyone is posting their assignments merrily every couple of weeks - but for the last 4, only 1 other person has bothered to feed back on mine. I, of course, have fed back on everyone else's each time, however laborious that can feel. Which is does to some extent because let's face it, we are all in it for ourselves. Some of them provide very good reading and are a pleasure to work on - others feel like homework. But why is it that these other people feel no guilt in just taking all the feedback and giving none back? We are all there for the same reasons.

Of course this is just a small, petty example. And perhaps labelling everything others do in their own interests as selfishness is too pejorative. After all, we can't help being the centre of our own universes - I suppose it stems from the fact that, from the moment we are born, most of us are lucky enough to suddenly become the centre of someone else's. It stands to reason that rubs off; just a little.

Once in a while...

... there comes along a show that seems to capture the imagination of the nation. Recently, these shows seems to have orbited around celebrity, reality, and various (increasingly ridiculous) different takes upon those two things.

But sometimes, a more intelligent show comes along and just enough celebrities endorse it enough for the common man to feel it's not uncool to say they watch it too. Wonders of the Solar System is such a show.

Twitter is all agog - any given night that it's on, a pretty high proportion of people I follow seem to be both online, and watching Wonders. They comment liberally, they praise - Professor Brian Cox has rocketed into the public eye and is single-handedly making intelligence - nay, physics - cool. OK, maybe not cool. But people want in on this.

Is it that celebrity endorsement has made us all watch in the first place, or that the endorsement makes us all more vocal about liking what we see? It's quite a strange feeling, knowing that across the country there are so many of us watching, mouths slightly open, thinking very similar thought.

A Twitterer I follow wrote this just now: Got to say though-how things actually are makes religion seem like a very mundane, quite silly, explanation for it all.

And that sums it all up rather beautifully. The world is capable of, and displays across the world in a million different ways, miracles far greater than the feeing of the 5000, or the parting of the oceans. The more I consider it, the more I am convinced religion is only there as a human construct to help others feel better about death. But then again - does it matter?

What I mean is, whether there is technically a "God" or not is almost irrelevant - if people believe, then it's there. I think therefore I am - it's basic philosophy, not religion. If God is nothing but an ideal by which people choose to live, a code of ethical or moral conduct - where's the harm? OK, I hear you shout, the harm is in the wars, the misinterpretation of religious text. And yes, of course, I am with you on that. But for the first time in my life I find myself thinking that perhaps God does exist - in the same way that I will one day have to accept that popular usage WILL make the meanings of infer and imply the same. I shall cry, but it won't stop it being true.

I may not believe in the big guy in the sky - but when I look at the things on shows like Wonders - I can't deny that God exists. Not that he created it - but that there is a part of all of us that created him to help explain what physics can do.

To blog or not to blog...

You see, the thing is, I get the impression that very few people are blogging for themselves. It seems to be that the vast majority are doing it in order to either publicise their writing abilities, or in some other way put themselves in the eye of many more beholders than they would normally reach. Whether this is because they just want to share, or whether secretly everyone is hoping to be "discovered" as the next major talent of the century, or sell their stories for a small (or ideally large) fortune.
And that's where I fall down. Because naturally I too want to be discovered as the next big talent, but I don't feel a blog is the best way for me to publicise myself. Certainly not this blog, and certainly not the way I am writing it at the moment. It's too personal in some ways, yet not personal enough. Like most of my writing, I feel that it's slightly wide of the mark.
The chances of me having sufficient talent and imagination to "make it" as a writer are slim. That doesn't stop me wanting to try, but I wonder whether it means I may have failed before I even start. If even I don't have that degree of self-belief, who on earth else is going to? And yet I keep plugging away at it, without much conviction, and yet reluctant to give up on that lifelong dream of being a writer. I wonder whether, at the heart of it, I just know I am not good enough. But there is a stubborn streak underlying it all, a single thread of titanium obstinance that wearily binds the disintegrating wisps of doubt together. Because, a bit like the maxm that in order to outrun a lion, one only needs to be faster than the person next to them, perhaps it will be enough not to necessarily be the best writer ever born (Lord knows I've drunk away too many brain cells for that) but perhaps just better than a lot of others will be OK. Because there is some terrible stuff out there - I know I can do better than some. The vision in my mind is sheer brilliance. Sadly its translation into black and white remains some way short of the ideal.

I need to remember how to think.

One more step

It's funny, the things your mind does to sabotage you. Perhaps there are people out there who truly believe they deserve good things, people who fully expect to win the lottery and actually do, and people who look themselves in the mirror's eye and believe they are good at whatever it is they say they do. I do not fall into this category.

I am delighted to report that I have had my first magazine acceptance. Pregnancy and Birth are allegedly going to publish my short article on bump names. Of course, I am still to await details, so they still have a couple of days to realise their mistake and decide that someone needs to be fired over the decision to publish my sorry little offering. But still. I liked it. My tutor liked it (whatever that's worth - I can't help feeling she's far too easy on me, going for the easy course pass rather than really challenging me as a writer) And yet, as soon as someone wants to publish it, I can't help wondering what the hell was wrong with it.

Having said that I am still happy about the news - I just don't quite believe it. And so I can't help but wonder... if this is how I feel about one simple article... I mean, I did study English at one of the best universities in the world, I really ought to be able to string a few sentences together - it's little wonder I haven't done anything big in life, is it?!

Nuff for now - supposed to be keeping this professional. Perhaps I'll go back to just doing little articles on here. It's not a diary, is it? Though I'm sure that's how it started...