This time of year

The 21^st January 2016 is not a date I will ever forget. That was the day that my wife Magucha died - six years ago this 21^st January 2022. But that is life isn’t it? We will all die one day!

 

Looking back to the time that we lived together many memories are fading – as is natural of course. The sound of her voice, and her infectious laugh are lost to me now but I can still see her eyes – always windows to the soul. I will admit that I do miss her, grievously miss her. I miss the feeling of her little hand in mine – what she called her “pata” (Portuguese for paw). She was not a “touchy feely” sort of person – she would squirm in my arms if I hugged her, saying in her wonderfully mangled English (Magucha speak!) that I was “strafogating” her. 

 

Magucha was not someone easy to categorize. It was not possible to say she was this or that kind of person. She was in many ways an extrovert – had a very large circle of friends and got on well with people in all walks of life. At the same time she was a very private person with an astonishing depth to her character. She was highly intelligent, very perceptive and seemingly attuned to the inner needs of people she knew. And she was also a wonderful mother with an amazing understanding of a child’s needs – and was certainly deeply loved by both children and her 4 grandchildren.

 

Furthermore she was definitely not the sort of person one could “tie down”. There was a strong rebellious streak in her make-up that I learned about very early in our marriage. To accommodate this I quickly learned to adopt the old maxim, “If you love something, let it fly free. If it returns it’s yours. If it doesn’t it never was.” 

 

Maugucha always returned. Not that she was ever “mine” in the ownership sense of the word but I truly believe she found peace, even solace, in our relationship. That is not to say that peace always reigned! Living with someone who had a strong Latin (Portuguese) temperament and a strong will of her own was not always conducive to “peace” in the accepted sense. Many were the tempestuous scenes that arose seemingly out of nowhere – though I soon worked out that they were, in many respects, a reaction to the rather fractured relationship she had with her mother. I was often the unwitting “victim” of pent up frustration.

 

I loved her you see and knew that there are two sides to everything. One has to know one to appreciate the other. How can on one know harmony with out first experiencing disharmony; happiness without experiencing unhappiness; love without first experiencing lack of love? 

 

You notice that I haven’t yet said that Magucha loved me! She never told me that she did – not in so many words. But she was very attentive to my needs and was very generous in what she gave me – and others have told me that she knew I was her “rock”; that I would always be there for her. That was just her way of expressing love. 

 

We were together for just short of 36 years.

 

As always I resort to poetry to best express my emotions – there is always a poem I can find. This is one I have used before – by John Masefield.

This is a photo taken on our 3^rd anniversary – and our first in Australia – 31^st August 1982 – that is, to me, a perfect visual expression of the poem below.

 

Beauty 

I have seen the dawn and sunset on moors
and windy hills,
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of
Spain;
I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils,
Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm
April rain.

 

I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old
chant of the sea,
And seen strange lands from under the arched
white sails of ships;
But the loveliest things of beauty God ever 
showed to me,
Are her voice, and her hair, and eyes, and the 
dear red curve of her lips.

John Masefield.

 

 

There is another date that I don’t forget – 1^st June 1977 – the date my first wife Frances died. We were married for just under 7 years.

Why?

I think this is the most important question there is – Why? It betokens a curiosity to find out more about – anything – and is a very human trait. I suppose that being a person with a “curious” and seeking mind I have, seemingly, always had a questioning outlook to the world around me.

 

My curiosity must have started very early – my mother told me that she was very amused by my asking, when aged about two years old, “Have moffers got mouffers?” – (translation – “ have moths got mouths?”). I’m not sure of the reason for the question. It was quite a long time ago!

 

The question “why?” is followed closely by its corollary “how?” And also, of course, the equally important, “why not?” 

 

Some questions that have exercised far greater minds than mine will forever, I assume, remain unanswered. Such as, “why are we here – why us?” Likewise, the hard question, “ what is consciousness?”

 

There is an illuminating quote from the book “Why us” by James Le Fanu, wherein he writes, regarding the discovery of the literal blizzard of electrical activity in the brain:

 “But the greatest perplexity of all was the failure to account for how the monotonous electrical activity of those billions of neurons in the brain translate into the limitless range and quality of subjective experiences of our everyday lives – where every transient, fleeting moment has its own distinct, unique, intangible feel: where the cadences of a Bach cantata are so utterly different from the flash of lightning, the taste of Bourbon from the lingering memory of that first kiss.

            The implications are clear enough. While theoretically it might be possible for neuroscientists to know everything there is to know about the physical structure if the brain, its ‘product’, the mind, with all its thoughts and ideas, impressions and emotions, would still remain unaccounted for.”          

 

And which comes first – is it the activity of the neurons which by some means create the thoughts, sensations and memories or do the thoughts, sensations and memories somehow activate the neurons? 

 

It will be recalled that all observable forms of matter are constructed from atoms and molecules. This becomes interesting if “Matter” (in the form of the human body and brain) together with “Life” and “Consciousness”, are considered in the light of quantum physics which states (very basically) that Energy = Matter (remember E=MC²?). Einstein, with this famous equation, revealed that the Universe is not just billions of distinct items separated by inert space but in fact is a dynamic construct in which matter and energy are so inextricably mixed that it is not possible to consider them as separate elements. If this is true, where does this leave ‘life’, the ‘mind’, ‘consciousness’ and ‘intelligence’? How can energy/matter be intelligent or conscious? What is ‘dead’ energy (i.e. some matter which was alive and is now dead) compared to ‘live’ energy (i.e. some matter which is animated and alive)? Furthermore, physics tells us that there is no foundation for a view of life based on the pre-eminence of matter. Energy is indestructible and outside of time, and as a result the total quantity of energy is constant. This is known as the law of conservation of energy (The first Law of Thermodynamics). Likewise with the conservation of Matter – it is constant but changes its form - The Law on the Conservation of Mass (matter). 

 

Then there is a further problem, our freedom to choose – known as the “problem of mental causation”. It is a fundamental fact of science - a precept - which states that nothing can happen that is not governed by natural laws of material causation (i.e. physical things cause physical effects). Thoughts are non-physical (they are subjective), therefore by definition cannot cause anything physical to happen. For example, how is it possible for subjective (non-material) thoughts of the “self” to so influence the function of the (material) brain that they compel the brain to direct the body to perform a particular action? This has yet to be resolved.

 

All human life is bound to individuals who manifest it, and is simply inconceivable without them. But every human is charged with an individual destiny and destination, and the journey to that destination or the fulfillment of that destiny is the only thing that makes sense of human life. The individual journeys and destinations may differ but the fundamental purpose is the same – the expression of Life.  

 

This all seems a bit circular! We are back where we started – what, actually, is Life? And why?    

Trust

Trust, a noun, is defined in my two volume Shorter Oxford English Dictionary as: "Faith or confidence in the loyalty, strength, veracity, etc., of a person or thing; reliance on the truth of a statement etc., without examination."

 

Now in the World today, (I almost wrote "dystopian World"), what is it or who is it that we can say truthfully and honestly we REALLY trust? 

 

Governments and the Politicians involved? Surely not.

The banks? I don’t think so. 

Law enforcement? Their image is slipping I believe – so maybe not.

What has been called "Big Pharma" – the giant pharmaceutical companies that control the production and marketing of the products the medical profession prescribe? Again, I don’t think so. 

Big business – those multi-billion dollar companies? Especially those involved in producing what is known as Social Media or in extracting fossil fuels. Once more, I don’t think so.

Religious organisations? Surely not now after all the abuse scandals – at least the ties that used to bind are now broken.

 

So what or who are we left with who are trustworthy?  This is almost impossible to answer. I really don’t know. Most certainly not every person involved with these organisations is untrustworthy; many would hold themselves to the highest levels of integrity.

 

The trouble is that money and the accumulation thereof gets in the way. Company board’s of directors are often pressured to producing ever-higher dividends for shareholders. Such boards are almost obliged to pursue any means, repeat any means, to increase profits – and damn the consequences.

 

Likewise members of parliament are often fixated on holding the "Party Line" and hanging on to their "seats" by satisfying the wishes of a relatively narrow cohort of voters in their electorate.  

 

But then all this doubt leaves us lesser mortals in a state of quandary. Who or what do we trust? We are left, metaphorically, seemingly up a creek, in a canoe, without a paddle.  This is not good for one’s state of mind or for the well-being of Society as a whole. 

 

In such circumstances people may turn to their own interpretation of the news or events and construct conspiracy theories to suite their interpretations. This may provide a version of the "certainty" that many are searching for – however misinformed it may be. Again this is not good for the wellbeing of Society.

 

But this is what I believe is happening.

And Now?

Anniversaries keep coming round don’t they? Yep – 42 years ago today I married Maria Augusta Bandeira de Lima – better known to all by her nickname – Magucha. Now being married to someone from a different culture and language base has its challenges. And then throw into the mix the different personalities – me, tall (1.96 metres and 97kgs) and relatively phlegmatic, and she, tiny (1.52 metres and 50kgs), very pretty with a quick fire, Portuguese (Latin) temperament and sparks would often light up the environment!

 

She loved flowers, pretty things, small things, bright colours and mirrors – there are mirrors all over the house that I have left in position, not having the heart to move them. But then she also had a kind heart, was very loving with an innate sense of justice. She also was indomitable and absolutely fearless - I never saw her afraid of anything.

 

Another strange thing, which I call to mind, is that I never saw her cry. I’m sure she did – in fact when her father died, twenty years ago, I’m certain of it, but not in my presence. In that respect she was very private.

 

Being my wife, she could criticize me and point out my many faults but if anyone else tried that within her range of hearing she would fire up, almost vibrate with anger, and defend me with all her considerable powers.  I loved her for that. 

 

You see – I truly know that, if the situation had ever arisen, I would have defended her to my last breath. I have absolutely no doubts that she would have done the same for me.

 

Finally, however, with all her health problems and the pain she suffered, the “uninvited visitor” called and she went with him to that “Undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns”.

 

She was only 62 years old when she died five and a half years ago on 21 January 2016. We were together for just over 36 years - and I miss her more than I can tell.

 

As always when my emotions run high I turn to poetry to best express how I feel. I offer the following which I have used before but it still resonates with me:-

  

  My Wife

Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,
With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,
Steel-true and blade-straight,
The Great Artificer
Made my mate.

Honour, anger, valour, fire;
A love that life could never tire,
Death quench or evil stir,
The Mighty Master
Gave to her.

Teacher, tender, comrade, wife,
A fellow-farer true through life,
Heart-whole and soul-free
The August Father
Gave to me. 

             Robert Louis Stevenson

The Human Spirit

I am puzzled.

 

That we are wayfarers, on our journey through life, should be self evident to all. And what befalls us on that journey to the only end possible cannot ever be known. It is just when the thought of the inescapable end and its immanent arrival that one is brought up short. This is especially so with a person one loves – in my case my wife, Magucha.

 

Many are the thoughts I’ve had over the purpose of “Life” and the fact that “Life” is expressed in so many different forms – estimated at somewhere in the region of 8 million. That of course excludes the unknowable number of bacteria that also inhabit the Earth.

 

Needless to say, I am no nearer arriving at an answer, as the answer can never be known. 

 

But, one thing I do know is that somewhere in “Life” is lodged the “human spirit” – however this is defined – that shines through as a beneficent force in human interaction. This human spirit defies definition. It is apparent when and in whom it appears. It is not attached to physical beauty, or physical strength, or intelligence, it just “is”.

 

And this human spirit is wondrous to behold. I know that the passage of time tends to distort some memories and remembrances but when it comes to Magucha they are still quite sharp. You see, she was dauntless (I never saw her afraid of anything) and her kindness and willingness to help other wayfarers she met on the road of life was an inspiration, certainly to me.

 

 She was quite diminutive in stature but, however, once you got to know her, size did not come into it – her intelligence and personality shone through like a beacon. Because she had survived serious illness and several near death experiences she lived for each day and, seemingly unconsciously, had taken to heart the Biblical instruction, “Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself” (Matthew 6:34 in the English King James Bible).

 

She was utterly fearless and, when it was brought to her attention, would fight unfairness or injustice with a ferocious intensity and singleness of purpose. Her most enduring and endearing qualities, however, were her kindness, her generosity of spirit and compassion. Magucha subscribed to the belief that we are wayfarers all, on the journey through life, and she was always prepared to give a helping hand to those who stumbled while on that journey. She seemed to shed a loving and kindly light and many were attracted to that “light” which gave warmth and comfort to those in need and good counsel to those in distress. 

 

All this, to me, is an example of what I understand the human spirit to be. Like tempered steel, the “fire” of Magucha’s personal experiences and the blows life dealt her seemed to make her emotionally stronger and strengthen her resolve. 

 

For all this I respected and loved her dearly. She was just sixty-two when she died but then as the Ancient Greeks proclaimed, “Those whom the Gods love die young.” 

Is anything new?

I know that this post is likely to annoy some people but I think it is important from, at least, a historical point of view.

 

We cannot win all the battles of Life. Life (however defined) will always win in the end. But it helps to remember that we are each an individual and not required or obliged to be totally “conformist”. Certainly one should always help one’s fellow being and do the “right” thing for the greater good and just be kind but this must be an individual determination.

 

As described in a book by Dan Jones, “The Templars”, about the 12th century (and very mercenary) religious army, conformism may lead to unintended consequences. The “chivalry” later associated with Knights was not yet apparent, in fact these early Knights were often considered no better that hired thugs.

 

The “dangers” of extreme conformism, however, may lead to the following:- 

 

One of the Templar “rules” banned the company of women. They were scorned as, “A dangerous thing, for by it the old devil has led a man from the straight path to paradise…. the flower of chastity is always (to be) maintained among you… For this reason none of you may presume to kiss a woman, be it widow, young girl, mother, sister, aunt or any other… The Knighthood of Christ should avoid at all costs the embraces of woman, by which men have perished many times.”

 

One assumes that each of the Templar’s must have had a mother and a father? 

 

The hypocrisy is extraordinary. Blaming, scapegoating, women is easy - “It’s not my fault - see what she made me do!” It’s their fault you see. Leading us pure men astray!

 

The Catholic and other religious clergy today still (try) to believe this. I wonder if anything has really changed in over 1000 years? 

 

And the Templars, followers of the Prince of Peace, fought, pillaged, killed and (sometimes) raped their way across Europe and the Middle East. 

 

Believe it or not the Templars managed to distinguish between “homicide”, the sin of killing a man and “malicide” - the act of killing “evil” itself, which God, apparently, would consider a “noble” deed! 

 

Evil, in their view, resided in Jews (they killed Jesus, you understand) and Muslims, because they weren’t Christian. 

 

An “ingenious” theological distinction!!

 

I know that the Templars were a very disciplined force and were influential in ridding the Iberian Peninsular of the Moors in what is known as the “Reconquista”, the Christian re-conquest of Portugal and Spain – which, of course, for the local inhabitants was an admirable outcome. But then they, the Templars, were told, by the Pope, that fighting the “unbelievers” would remove the need for any penance for sins committed. 

 

Surely an open invitation for the Templars to do whatever they wanted.

 

More hypocrisy!

 

So is anything new?

 

 

 

 

Ideal

Just in case no one knew this fact, I will repeat and emphasise that I really like poetry! The rhyme and rhythm the poets use deeply resonates with me. This was understood by ancient troubadours travelling from village to village to tell their stories or bring news. They used rhyme and rhythm to help them recall what they wanted to tell. Also rhyming poetry has a "beat" similar to that of the human heart, hence the "resonating" effect on peoples everywhere. 

So when music and poetry combine (most song lyrics are poetic) there is an emotional connect. At least I find it so. Now some years ago I heard the songs composed by Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846 – 1916). An Italian by birth his songs became so popular in Victorian England that he became a British citizen in 1906. He was actually knighted by King Edward VII in 1908 for his services to the arts. Eventually he returned to Italy in 1913 and died in Rome in 1916 (my reference is Wikipedia).

As I said, when music and poetry combine I find that, without being too melodramatic, I am "transported" to another dimension. And this simple and gentle Tosti song, Ideale, with the lyrics shown below, certainly transports me back to times in my life with Magucha. (It has been recorded by many artists but I prefer the old, 1951 version, with piano accompaniment, sung by Beniamino Gigli. It’s on YouTube) 

Remember that this is a translation and the original Italian poetic form has not translated well I don’t believe. I still love the sentiment expressed.

Ideale  (Ideal) – a translation from the original Italian.

I followed you like a rainbow of peace

along the paths of heaven;

I followed you like a friendly torch

in the veil of darkness,

and I sensed you in the light, in the air,

in the perfume of flowers,

and the solitary room was full

of you and your radiance.

 

Absorbed by you, I dreamed a long time

of the sound of your voice,

and the earth’s every anxiety, every torment

I forgot in that dream.

Come back dear ideal, for an instant

to smile at me again,

and in your face will shine for me 

a new dawn.

 

Lyric: by Carmelo Erico. Music: by Francesco Paolo Tosti in 1882.

 

You see, again, without being too melodramatic, Magucha was my "Ideal".