Real time

I'm steadily becoming aware that the best, the most real, time of the day is in the evening. That hour or so is what makes life worth living. It seems to last so much longer for its intensity. After dinner & I've got changed into my nightwear, assuming we're both feel up to it, we often switch off the television, put on some music, open a bottle of wine & chunter to one another.

I often wonder what we can find to chunter about after nearly 37 years of marriage, but we never seem to have difficulty. In a way I find this extraordinary, especially when we live such quiet lives. These days we don't go out to work to discover new stimuli. We spend most of our time together so how can there be much new to talk about, yet there always is. We rarely go out for much except shopping - not a particularly inspiring event, more of a chore than a source of conversation. Oh we do go to the Pub a couple of times a week but that is mainly centred on the crossword, another topic we're unlikely to talk about at home.

Yesterday's talk, to the background of hits from the '50s, was mainly about the value of education. I'm not talking about the formal variety at school or college. Rather how, no matter what your age, there is still more to learn, still more intellectual & spiritual growth to be made. 

I can see why we are graduates. We still have a thirst for new thoughts, an urge to look into things with enthusiasm even if the subject is just the birds in the garden. What surprises me more is how many people we know, many of them graduates like us, who have ceased to ask questions. A sort of metal wall has come down in their brains through which nothing new can penetrate. That's not to say they're fools. They just seem to have stopped growing.

We talk on. We discussed the value of doubt. It makes you stronger, not weaker. It drives you on to find out more, & knowledge always puts you in a stronger position.

All this is the positive of yesterday. The negative is that I had a phone call from Jobcentre Plus to advise me my benefit forms should be with me within the fortnight. I dread them. I couldn't help noticing that even in responding to her questions my voice had gone flat. Anxiety was striking. I was getting uptight. I'm telling myself all will go well. They will accept my inability to work just on the basis of the form, without me having to undergo yet another medical. Unfortunately I can't quite believe that. We'll soon find out.