Midnight With the Philosopher’s Journal.

Well after midnight the night before last, a melancholy spirit crept into the house via the backdoor, and  joined me, my cup of decaf tea and row of Cadbury Hazelnut chocolate.  Zac, our gorgeous Border Collie x was sleeping across my lap nursing my keyboard,  while the rest of the house slept (or at least pretended to be asleep). In hindsight, I half wonder whether Zac was there to protect me from such spirits late at night, in the same way he guards the house from more physical threats. After all, when you put things in perspective, we often need more protection from ourselves than an intruder.

Anyway, as some of you would be aware, I’ve been researching and writing a collection of short  bios of Australians serving in France during WWI. I won’t just say soldiers, because my latest addition is Bill the Bantam Bugler, a bantam rooster who joined the 13th Battalion 12th reinforcements in camp at Liverpool in Sydney. Not one to be left behind,  he boarded the Suevic on the 22nd December along with the intrepid  Maud Butler and travelled to Egypt, before arriving in France.As it turned out, Billy the Bantam found his own battlefields in farmyards across France where he became the all-conquering Australian Napoleon of the chicken run. No rooster was too big for this little guy bursting with fight.

It was while I was researching Billy, that I came across a series of journals put out by the NSW Red Cross during the war. These journals have been a treasure trove of snippets, taking me off in all sorts of directions.

As you might’ve gathered by now, my research proceeds in anything but a straight, linear path and darts off on multitudinous detours. These are okay. Indeed, you could well consider them “the scenic route”. However, being in unchartered territory, I also need to develop strategies for finding my way back to the main road, or I’ll never get this finished.

Anyway, in the August 1916 edition, I found a quote which has taken me off on a completely different journey, forging a new main road straight through the bush. It reads:

“Never to tire, never to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to

look for the budding flower and the opening heart; to hope always; like

God, to love always–this is duty.”

Henri-Frederic Amiel

Amiel's journal

I’d never heard of this Swiss philosopher before, or  his famous journal: The Journal Intime. That’s now changed, and I spent the rest of the night reading through the most profound, gripping quotes, which I thought you might also appreciate. These all come from his journal:

“I am a spectator, so to speak, of the molecular whirlwind which men call individual life; I am conscious of an incessant metamorphosis, an irresistible movement of existence, which is going on within me — and this phenomenology of myself serves as a window opened upon the mystery of the world.”

“He who floats with the current, who does not guide himself according to higher principles, who has no ideal, no convictions–such a man is a mere article of the world’s furniture–a thing moved, instead of a living and moving being–an echo, not a voice. The man who has no inner life is the slave of his surroundings, as the barometer is the obedient servant of the air at rest, and the weathercock the humble servant of the air in motion.”

“A bubble of air in the blood, a drop of water in the brain, and a man is out of gear, his machine falls to pieces, his thought vanishes, the world disappears from him like a dream at morning. On what a spider thread is hung our individual existence!”

“Our true history is scarcely ever deciphered by others. The chief part of the drama is a monologue, or rather an intimate debate between God, our conscience, and ourselves. Tears, grieves, depressions, disappointments, irritations, good and evil thoughts, decisions, uncertainties, deliberations –all these belong to our secret, and are almost all incommunicable and intransmissible, even when we try to speak of them, and even when we write them down.”

“Composition is a process of combination, in which thought puts together complementary truths, and talent fuses into harmony the most contrary qualities of style. So that there is no composition without effort, without pain even, as in all bringing forth. The reward is the giving birth to something living–something, that is to say, which, by a kind of magic, makes a living unity out of such opposed attributes as orderliness and spontaneity, thought and imagination, solidity and charm.”

“He who is silent is forgotten; he who does not advance falls back; he who stops is overwhelmed; out distanced, crushed; he who ceases to grow becomes smaller; he who leaves off, gives up; the condition of standing still is the beginning of the end.”

I particularly loved this quote with it’s note of pure melancholy, and social isolation:

“I can find no words for what I feel. My consciousness is withdrawn into itself; I hear my heart beating, and my life passing. It seems to me that I have become a statue on the banks of the river of time, that I am the spectator of some mystery, and shall issue from it old, or no longer capable of age.”

As I read this,  I pictured myself as Michelangelo’s Statue of David standing beside the River Neckar in Heidelberg where I lived many years ago. Or, perhaps, I was seeing Amiel, and I’ll recast myself as the Venus de Milo, which I saw in the Louvre on the same trip.

Perhaps, many of us are also feeling like that powerless, detached, isolated statue on the river bank. We’re simply watching as our loved ones, income, jobs, businesses, savings are all being swept away by the river’s flow, and there’s nothing we can do to hold them back. In so many ways, we are powerless. Or, our capacity to respond and “fix” the impact has been greatly reduced, and this doesn’t sit well in our mindset of “Just do it”, “Make it happen”, or “you can be anything you want”.

Where are we to turn?

My Dad used to say that doing something tough “put hairs on your chest”, which I wasn’t keen on as a girl, but I now understand that he was talking about building grit and resilience. Whatever doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. He also said: “life wasn’t meant to be easy.” However, he didn’t use the full quote:

“Life is not meant to be easy, my child; but take courage: it can be delightful.”

― George Bernard Shaw

Anyway, getting back to what brought me into my melancholy zone of reflection the other night. Australia is now at the point of legitimately easing social distancing restrictions. While this is seemingly great news, for me personally its implications are mixed. Being at high risk myself, I need to work out what all of this means for me. Being in more of a melancholy mood at the time, I could see myself being left behind at home, while the rest of the country was out partying. Indeed, I even saw myself as that child stuck inside peering out while all the other children are playing. My hands and face are pressed hard up against the window watching all the others play and there’s such a deep, unfathomable heartache. A never-ending but very private cry.  In hindsight, it’s pretty clear that my thoughts galloped ahead of themselves.  We’re not at the point of coming out yet here in NSW, and I might not be left behind. The spread is being very well contained and might be all but wiped out.

With my chronic health and lung issues, these universal restrictions have not only been a lifesaver, for once we’re all in the same boat. Before they came about, with my husband working in a known hot spot and the kids being at school, we were expecting that I’d need to evacuate both from the community and from our family as well. Australia’s initial infection rates were heading along a similar trajectory to Italy and we had no reason back then to believe Australia would largely dodge the bullet. Consequently, we bought a camper to house me away from the family in our backyard. That’s how serious it was. Now, Australia’s in an entirely different position where we’ve almost eradicated the virus, but we’re not there yet.  New cases are still appearing, including a new cluster in Victoria. Restrictions haven’t eased much as yet. However, we will now be able to visit my parents for Mother’s Day tomorrow with the kids. That’s two and adults and dependent kids. That’s all that’s allowed, although school is going back one day a week, but we’re holding back at the moment. I don’t know how it’s going to look in a few weeks. So, I could well have freaked myself out without reason. Our State Premier is taking a very cautious approach. I might not get left behind.

Anyway, in the meantime, I was pleased to hang out with Amiel for a few hours, which has now extended into reading his journal, which is accessible online here and I strongly recommend reading the introduction as well:  Journal Intime

I am trying not to get too caught up what many of us know as “the dark side of the moon”. However, I also feel it’s important to acknowledge that it’s there. That it’s okay to indulge in it for a time, but like my many research detours, we shouldn’t linger too long and always endeavour to get back to the main road. Or, even return via the scenic and take a more uplifting route if we can.

I would love to encourage you to read Amiel’s journal with me and stay tuned for further posts. I already have a few up my sleeve.

How are you getting through the coronacrisis? Are you okay? Or, have you also had times of feeling melancholy, afraid or just confused? Even just having shops, Church, dance studio, schools, parks, museums and art galleries closed is throwing us out of kilter, and we’re not dealing with the worst of it.

It’s important to let these feelings out and share where we’re at. We don’t need to hide our grief away. Those of us well away from the epicentres, have big shoulders and are able to help carry the weight of your grief. It belongs to us all. You don’t need to bear it alone. Thankfully, the Internet is enabling us all to connect despite layer up on layer of border closures, shut downs and precautions and we can spread the love around like lashings of butter on hot toast.

From my place to your place, hang in there and we hope you’re doing okay.



PS A big thank you to all my blogging buddies who’ve been through lock down with me! I truly appreciate our friendship!!!

8 thoughts on “Midnight With the Philosopher’s Journal.

  1. tidalscribe

    We’re way behind Australia, new instructions on Sunday apparently, but I think most people are happy to carry on isolating now we’re used to it, because people are still dying, it hasn’t gone away.

  2. TanGental

    In terms of quotes, the full GBS is the best. I’m not big on introspective bottom gazing so I’lleave the miserable Henri to you!
    As for us in the UK, well topping the death charts in Europe has left a lot of people questioning the government’s strategy. Personally i think it’s too simplistic to say they got it wrong. It’s a mixed bag and while all the focus was on making sure the NHS coped – it did and all including the government needs a clap – the tragedy in care homes remained hidden for too long and the results are apparent. So our lockdown worked generally the NHS is in a good place and we will begin to emerge- though like you a lot are fearful of what that might mean. Our failure to ramp up testing is a real problem that still rumbles on. On a personal level, I’m enjoying a lot of it. I’m fitter the house has had a total clean and the garden is the best its been at this time of year in decades

  3. Sagittarius Viking

    How interesting!
    About your camper, it must of felt great to have a backup plan? I like being prepared, having a plan B. Of course it’s wonderful if you never have to use it, but knowing that there is a plan B is such a relief. It certainly help me sleep at night. Here I feel good knowing that I have enough firewood for a longer electricity outage to keep me warm in the winter. I also have the means to cook simple food at my wood stove, I have a plan to get water etc. You sound like such a wise woman. I hope it gets easier for you.

  4. Rowena Post author

    Thank you very much, Maria. I try to be wise but it can take a lot of work. Our restrictions are starting to ease but these are very tentative steps and the Chief Medical officer has described the position as precarious. School is opening up one day a week from this week so we’ll see how it goes.
    Your stove sounds like a great idea and sounds like intimate and rustic. I don’t think I’d like to be in a Swedish Winter during an electricity outage especially without a Plan B. We Australians do not cope well in the cold. Hope you have a great week and i’ll be back to see you tomorrow.
    Best wishes,

  5. Rowena Post author

    Had to Google some GBS quotes. I haven’t crossed his path since I was at school. There were some great ones there and I’ll do a post on them soon. However, I had to share this with you: “I often quote myself. It adds spice to my conversation.” George Bernard Shaw. Modest chap! Home repairs and renovation seem to be the go around here and we’re certainly part of that trend. Geoff managed to buy a few pallets of floating floorboards at an auction today for 25% of retail. So after digging up the backyard, he’s now looking at reflooring much of the house and removing the contents as he goes. This includes dismantling the old decrepit piano in preparation for council cleanup.
    Australia has currently lost 95 lives to the virus and while our population is much smaller, it’s a credit to us, especially compared to New York.
    Coming out of lockdown is very tricky. My Dad seems to think as long as you maintain social distancing you’re alright. He’s pretty careful and keeps to himself a lot anyway. We were at their place for Mother’s Day today and it was wonderful to see them after so long. We were sick back in February so hasn’t seen them since Christmas, which is very unusual. We maintained social distancing and it was hard not to give Mum a hug but that’s the way it is. It is hard to navigate a path somewhere inbetween being really excited an rushing round to see your friends and family in person again and feeling social phobic and heading out in gloves, mask with Glen 20 on hand. We’re trying to really limit the number of people we come into contact with for a start. We’re now getting our shopping delivered which is efficient as well. Shops and cafes will be opening up from next Friday but I won’t be out there. I’ll just wait a few more weeks. Besides, looks like we’ll do doing floorboards for awhile. Our big dilemma is around the kids going back to school and we’ll be dealing with that this week one way or another.
    Have you seen any interesting street art around or commentary? I’ll be posting something from Berlin I came across.
    Take care & best wishes,

  6. Rowena Post author

    I had a good chat with my Dad tonight. He’s 75 but very fit. He’s being careful and strictly adhering to social distancing, which is quite in keeping with his personality type. I hug my friends. Pat strangers’ dogs. It really goes against the grain with me, and yet I’m becoming a bit of a social phobe myself. We’ve had a few hot spots here, especially a cruise ship called the Ruby Princess. But they’re looking at these mass infections going back to one person in a very short period. That was rather sobering. Our numbers are right down but it’s still around and we’re currently hovering in the balance. If we stay sensible, we’ll be right. However, it doesn’t take many flies in the ointment to cause a mass outbreak and for many people to die.
    I am trying to keep my chin up and nut out what we’re going to do about the kids going back to school. It’s not straightforward. Our son has been staying home and hadn’t been out the front door for a few weeks so he needs to get back out there again. We’re just doing our best, but despite all my research and caution, it really does feel like we’re playing by ear or gut feel. That terrifies me at times, because we’re talking about lives here, not putting a few bucks on a horse or something, which I don’t do anyway. It’s a great time, as far as I’m concerned, to get on with my research and just let the world go on with itself around me.
    How are things where you are?

  7. Rowena Post author

    Thanks so much for putting me onto that, Geoff. Great story to go with it too. It’s fascinating to how people are reacting, especially creatively, around the world.
    Best wishes,

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