Thomas S.

the ‘Meaningful Work’ thread – 2 (relentless forward progress!)

In Uncategorized on October 24, 2015 at 6:00 am

That urge to work assiduously daily on gleaning outcomes towards employment has not really worked well. I have paid for linked-in membership, and not had the time to use it. I have podcasts listened but not reported on, and I have a nagging sense of time passing without really providing purpose. It’s not a failure, but it’s not an ideal outcome.

So, I plan to do better and fix things. I propose to ask for help, to share a contract for working on gaining meaningful work – and to seriously give this a cracking good go.  I want to ask friends that I can check in with, to use a space outside my own home to work from, and to report back to myself and be checking in with my friends on how I am going. I want to set a month target, and a week target, and to use a line I heard at a fantastic speech from a motivating ultra marathon runner – that of ‘relentless forward progress’ so, I plan relentless forward progress, and to be accountable for it all.

Space : St Kilda Hub ($200/month for 16 hrs availability a week) :
Tools : LinkedIn ($29/month)
Contract : to come
Inspiration: iProcrastinate podcast / Career Cloud radio
Contact: Friends / Meetup Group

First task – Contract
Second task – a run sheet for doing stuff.

And with that … I feel – confident!

Back fence

In Uncategorized on October 22, 2015 at 11:42 am

I stood upon the lawn, doing what blokes occasionally do, and looked. The fence was not. Clearly not. The people on the far side of the boundary where the fence was not, were sitting – mr bald head & ms blond hair – door to the pantry open, shine from a multitude of halogen lights to the black, cream and white surfaces – all visible through their darkened window, so light and visible to me. The neighbours I have rarely seen and have barely understanding of – other than the time they asked for a contact to the landlord’s agent so we could discuss the fence – and the music during parties … and that they have a noisy air conditioner … but other than this, no understanding.

I have a image – of months earlier some time ago when winter gripped my soul with soot and grey miasma I came back from my walkings to find the fence suddenly stood between us shattered. I have the belief a 12 year old pudgy child ran through it, ineffectually climbing before pushing through, more likely it was an adult seeking to flee the police – I have no evidence of either but the fence clearly had partially exploded and I have no idea why it is that I came home to a gaping broken smile of a fence separating me from the rear house

Now I see the house in a rude manner – the people inside are stylish – greatly – the home is polished, spacious, high roof ceilings, tall panes of glass, and the house had these people in it, who I do not know, with their backs to the wall, the transparent wall, the window I looked through – and they had no privacy – no care for privacy –  I stand there – on my lawn with no care for my privacy and have these thoughts of them.  I think,  is this how they live their lives with a fence in place – with openings showing their house internally eviscerated to the darkened world. Why are there not curtains? I remember being asked to draw the curtains often on the remote farm house, presumably to hide from the neighbours who lived so long ago, so far far away, and so remotely, protected from our house by the windows being so drawn.  Soiled fly spotted white lace things, long thrown away. Gauze.  Just thick enough to hide the black panes of night from our loungeroom and the cattleyards to the west..

I hitched up my belt, and withdrew back to the loungeroom, thinking about how I felt as though I had seen something I should not have – the insides of a household from the absence of a fence. The fence that will be there tomorrow, and was not there tonight, and was blocked clumsily by lumber and a ladder and other crap yesterday. The broken fence that was torn down, disposed of, and is now lost to any more practical use.  A slightly illicit view.

They lived their life, in their big polished house, living inside not seeing the vastly black windows showing the lawn, and where was the privacy – the illusion of black windows uncurtained.

incongruous. Odd. In private. Entirely dependant on the fence.  Suburban Lives.

Simple screen

In Uncategorized on October 22, 2015 at 11:16 am

I am old school, the urge to type on a keyboard is prefaced by the urge to pick up a pen and move it over paper, but in writing this opening sentence, I remind myself that I do not move the cursor by pushing my blunt finger into the screen. It is a simple screen, not a smart screen, a simple screen. Why do we not talk about the simple screen any more, it performs admirably but we disdainfully criticise it as thought it should be a better screen than it was originally designed for. The finger is the same finger, but the screen is criticised. Our perspective is distorted by technology – human adaption is only so fast – the blunt finger, but the screen, ah, the disdain.


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