'It was fun for me; but it wasn't funny for you'

The above platitude of proverbial depth was uttered by a four-year old. I met him walking along a road a few days ago. He had just pulled a crazy face in public and his Mum was not impressed; he'd enjoyed expressing himself but his Mum disapproved.
Why?
If it was so funny for someone directly related to her why didn't she find it funny? What life experience or character traits meant she had a different response? Was she embarrassed?  Should she have laughed? This blog is about the divergence of human experience, how we can view the same place or event from completely different perspectives.

Southend is bonza!
This week we have had a couchsurfer staying with us. She is from Queensland, Australia and is currently touring Europe, staying on people's sofas and earning a buck or two. She came to us for a few days on a seaside holiday; she enjoyed visiting a castle ruin, the coastline and an impressive thunderstorm. She thought Southend was a great place to stay for a few days. Now, I know we never really appreciate where we live but she was disproportionately positive. At home she has the rainforest in her backgarden and Australian coastline out front and yet she thought Southend was great...needless to say its got me seeing my home town in a different light.

Auctoritate mihi commissa admitto te ad gradum
This is one of the many pieces of Latin uttered over graduands at the Cambridge Graduation ceremony. I had the pleasure of taking part in this ceremony last year.

I remember feeling a strong sense of achievement when my name was called and I received my degree, but I also remember quite a lot of hassle. Before I even got to the day I had to find articles of a very specific uniform which included suitable shoes (no buckles, less than three inches, black or blue) to graduate in. On the morning of my graduation my failure to provide a jacket with my suit nearly resulted in my not graduating, but that's another story for another time.

When the day is in full-swing there are two groups of people who want to spend time with you and they don't usually meet. These are your proud but occasionally demanding family, and your friends, your comrades in arms who've battled finals at your side and who you might not see for a while. These groups can be combined by the skillful but for me I found them mutually exclusive. It was also unbearably hot under all the layers of fur and black robes. If you survive all of that you then have the pressure of doing all the right actions whilst the important people utter Latin and you attempt not to trip over your gown. One Mum remarked she thought this bit was actually the hardest bit of getting a degree! I was pleased to graduate but you couldn't call it unadulterated joy.

This year though I experienced the ceremony from a quite different perspective, I returned to watch dear friends graduate. I wore what I wanted; so I wasn't overheating. I got to be a proud friend enjoying a day in the sunshine with familiar faces and, most importantly, I didn't have the threat of falling over in front of loads of people. It was much more pleasurable. I suspect swapping places with this year's graduands would have produced a different experience again...

Graduate joy?! Photo credit: Kenichi Udagawa
'I do enjoy identifying plastics'
This immortal sentence was uttered by my little sister on a Friday night. We'd just played our first joint-gig and were winding down from the buzz of a great night and she just kinda came out with it. And I thought, how strange, we're from the same genetic background and yet we have such different interests.

 I categorically do not enjoy identifying plastics; I like words and people, music, languages and food, but not plastics. When I was little I used to frequently ask my sister, 'What are you thinking about right now? What's it like in there?'. She would always roll her eyes at me and say, 'I don't know how to answer that'. (I tried the same question recently and got the same response all these years on.) We're similar and yet we're so different. I want to know how it is in someone else's skin and she likes identifying plastics!

For those of you that are interested, I failed my driving test again, but for completely different reasons and I feel quite different about it this time. Last time I was devastated and thought I'd never pass. This time I realise I can always try again and there were many parts of the test I did well; my three point turns and the way I treated a bus being particular highlights. The same situation, but 10 weeks later can feel quite different can't it! A conclusion I also reached from walking the Camino...