Where am I heading?

Basically, especially looking from an onlooker's perspective at my life, things aren't going on wrong.

Health-wise, with the exception of the lumbar spine which I will have be careful with until the end of my days, with depression kept at bay, there is nothing more to worry. Should a mishap strike me, money is put aside to ensure superior medical care.

Work-wise, eight months into the path a few years ago I would shun, not only do I not regret it, but apparently I get ahead. My workmates, especially my team and my boss are glad they work with me. At times it is tough, at times I am sick of it, yet those moments don't change my overall positive perception.

My parents are getting older, with mum now 76, dad just turned 77. They carry on, yet their physical and mental fitness has been on decline over the last years. I face what almost everybody faces, maybe except for being totally alone with it. They are my only family, I have no bonds with other relatives and frankly speaking I don't feel like reviving them. Such is the reason why I fear their death.

My social life does exist, I can't complain about intensity of my social interactions (three times out in town over the last week), yet it is not as abundant as of single women who can boast of more robust social capital, built mostly on relationships with fellow females.

With respect to discontinued involvement in Szlachetna Paczka, my decision taken during the recent edition is upheld. I feel burnt out, too much has gone wrong and it would be too hard to make up for it. Moreover, with current work-related duties, the Paczka would be too time-consuming. My lookout for an alternative volunteering has not yet commenced. Maybe I'm putting it back to cool down.

Am I one of those, whose self-fulfilment hinges upon raising a family, primarily passing my genes to the next generation, or, as the malicious one would put into in words – leaving the offspring to this lousy, overcrowded planet?

Are my efforts to pursue the above doomed to fail? Dating-wise, I can't gripe about lack of interest from women (a problem several males of my age have) on dating apps (which is a far broader universe than offline world). Why doesn't it then develop into a relationship? After over a year I make out two repeatable scenarios: either a woman asks more questions to find out if I live up to her expectations and at that stage her letdown comes up (beneficial for everyone, wasted time spared) or we meet in person, often want to meet again or even do so, but it turns out she has no room in her life (in which she's tremendously busy) to fit getting to know a man better. Those women will most likely end up as happy singles.

Writing about interest, unpaid versions of popular dating apps show you some details of persons who swiped you right, including the age. From there I know more than two-third of women interested in me are aged 38 or more. Women in early 30s seeking a male a few years older are in minority. With such age profile of potential life companions, odds to become a father dwindle.

This might be the moment to ask myself a question whether it makes sense to pair up, but not have children. Such relationship would always contain the missing piece, an unsatisfied desire with a potential to blow up a relationship, even if both partners want offspring, but for reasons beyond their control can't have it.

I'm most fed up with going through the same scheme with every match, an experience of fatigue most dating app users are familiar with. The natural defence mechanism is taking breaks, to start over after a while. The in-person meetings are usually a nicely spent time, though getting me nowhere. They are just a form of temporal escape from a mundane reality.

In these lousy times like never before people seek outbursts of dopamine brought by travels, doing sports, fine dining, profligate consumption, seeking attention in social media, less frequently casual sex (I suspect some women have so many other sources of dopamine that they no longer need it). Travels and doing sport bring me joy, some other dopamine triggers don't work with me. Taking delight in pleasurable activities does give relief from the void, partly in the same way as intoxication gives short-term relief from the sorrow of being alive. I wish I can rise above it

Raising children and keeping them company, as they reach next stages of their lives moves a parent's life ahead. You wait for their first words, first day in nursery school, then next stages of education, doing things together, their first boyfriend or girlfriend, first job, then grandchildren. The very latter one becomes an unfulfilled dream of many contemporary folks in their 60s or 70s. Without offspring, life shapes like a circle. You may wait for a next trip to another continent or for another shot of dopamine, for the decease of your parents, you may live your siblings' children's life. Alternatively, you may fall in a self-development trap at which I look with disdain.

Upon talking to friends, then to AI (who does not ask philosophical questions to technology?) I have reached a conclusion I long for a sense of belonging, most easily found in romantic relationships and difficult to feel in a world spoilt by staring at smartphone screens.

Quite recently I got familiar with a concept devised by Paul Gilbert who posits humans exist within three circles: threat, drive and soothing. A proper balance between the three is critical for one's well-being. I swing between the two former, while in the latter circle I can find myself for short moments only, too short to restore a piece of mind, truly relax and calm down.

If my Guardian angel was to have their say about the above, what would they say?

Sailing

From early childhood, summer involved water-related outdoor activities. Swimming in a lake or sea, canoeing / kayaking, long time ago fishing are the ones I associated with summer. But still, there are many water sports I have not tried so far. Until last Saturday, sailing was on that list.

The first encounter on sailing was not entirely off my own bat. Konrad, a member of my circle of friends met in Szlachetna Paczka, has been a veteran sailor. He took it up over a decade ago, got hooked to the extent he honed his skills in sailing academia and now holds a sailor licence which allows him to navigate on an open sea several kilometres from the shore. On the first Saturday of July he took a few people from our circle for a cruise across Zalew Zegrzyński.

Sailing is in some way akin to driving a vehicle. You may decide not to sit behind the wheel and rely on a driver, which might be the case in sailing too. But if you are to steer a boat, you ought to learn some theory in advance and then practise for hundreds hours in different weather conditions to sail safely.

The biggest hindrance for me in acquiring basic sailing skills was… the vocabulary. Words or phrases unknown to me precisely describe boat elements or steering activities, but without a glossary even responding to commands of an experienced sailor is a challenge. So by the next time I undertake sailing, I will brush up on the specialised language.

After the heat wave became a history, the weather swung towards cold and windy face of summer. Few boats were on waters the last weekend, with wind reaching over 50 kmph in gusts and wind chill close to +10C in the middle of the lake. The conditions have given us a hard first time and there were moments of fear, even thought our ship was quite stable. Konrad has proven to be a seasoned sailor, knowing how to navigate the boat in nasty weather circumstances. Watching him, I recalled the old adage a smooth sea has never made a skilful sailor.

After the first try, I neither dislike it nor have grown fond of it. In some time, probably still this year, we will likely set off to repeat the experience and I will indulge in it occasionally, treating it as one of many socialising rituals, but not as a new hobby. Definitely I would prefer not confine to being a passenger and would aim to grasp basics of sailing, which definitely will do good to my brain. Stimulating the grey matter by trying new things should preserve the brain “in working order” for a long time.

The worst human trait, redefined

More than a decade ago, I claimed unreliability is a human trait I detest the most. Although I have not changed my mind about that one, today what winds me up much more is procrastination, being often one step ahead of the unreliability.

The word, translated nearly literally into Polish as prokrastynacja (in my books zwlekactwo), has made it big with psychologists and those who explore whys and wherefores of the human nature. Some define it as a problem, others as indispensable part of being good enough and letting up when necessary. I hold the view it is a shortcoming which makes my hackles rise and which humans ought to try to overcome.

When I am to set about doing something, no matter if ordered by somebody or off my own bat, I either move on without further ado or plan the onset of the activity for a defined moment in the future when circumstances are likely to permit. I dislike having at the back of my head some overdue stuff waits to be sorted out. Besides, not putting back doing things is a part of fairness towards fellow people and myself.

But most people do not handle it my way. I have identified four reasons why humans tend do delay what they are meant to do.
Firstly, I put it down to overt laziness (does not need extra commenting I believe).
Secondly, for some individuals "taking their time" is a part of their mindset and their lack of hurry extends into procrastination. Alternatively some humans are excited by doing things at eleventh hour and feel most motivated when a deadline pushes them.
Thirdly, it is a matter of being overwhelmed with other duties or having different priorities. This is a sign of our times, featured with constant overload.
Fourtly, and I believe this reason is underappreciated, the delay driver is a fear of taking a wrong decision or making a wrong step - by proscrastinating, people allow themselves to spend more time on analysis (sometimes leading up to a paralysis).

I hazard a guess losers tend to procrastinate. Opportunities in life have to be chased. Once they come up, decisiveness and quick reaction let humans grab them and get ahead.

Early June, southern Poland

Good to be home after spending over a week in different venues in the hilly southern part of my homeland. First five days in Wisła; the timing of our stay was not haphazard. We turned up to my girlfriend’s second home to take part in the third “Granatowe Góry” – JerzyPilch Festival, a series of (mostly) open-air lectures, discussion panels, workshops and concerts. Despite not being a culture freak, I picked out thought-provoking events from a rich agenda (usually four events taking place at the same time) and appreciated them.

As I dwell on his works and biography, I discover Mr Pilch as a controversial and enthralling figure. He appeared in the spotlight late, in the early 1990s, after turning 35. Written-word-wise, he could boast a superb skill of building long-drawn-out, complex sentences, in which no word is useless and which do not let a reader lose track of the thread. He deftly and humorously painted ordinary events and spiced ordinary places with magic. On the other hand, he was an outright sexist and misogynist. His most renowned book, “Pod mocnym aniołem” being a brutal record of how low an alcohol addict can stoop, has been an inspiration for a film of the same title. As a male, he had several more of less fleeting relationships with women. Towards the end of his life, he married a poet quite probably younger than me, who stayed with him until the end of his days (in which Parkinson disease kept him company). Currently I presume the widow has an affair with Jerzy Baczyński, chief editor of “Polityka” weekly.

I must say I have little understanding for romantic relationships with age gap higher than a generation (in the aforementioned example the age difference is roughly 40 years). I could not even imagine myself, aged 35, going out with a woman aged 25. Folks claim if a younger woman falls in love (if it is indeed love) with a much older man, money has to be in stake. In Pilch’s case, this could not have been the case, as he never earned a lot and quickly parted with his income. Besides, as an alcoholic, he lacked some of the crucial makings of a reliable life companion.

Customarily, the festival attendees were also my girlfriend’s parents, which involved living under one roof with them for five days and nights (we slept in a living room). With hindsight, I was over-optimistic with respect to how smoothly we would get on with one another. The stay went without spats, but being positioned as a guest in a place I am familiar with and where I make myself at home was a kind of uncomfortable. The unease was felt with my girlfriend’s parents, who had an intruder in the flat in which her father grew up.

What I had to put up with were… rituals (as a person afflicted with mild Asperger syndrome I detest them) and the fact the life revolved around eating. I confess I eat to deliver nutrients to my body, minding healthiness of my diet, but do not take much pleasure in consumption. Participating frequently in rituals related to eating or drinking was a misery to me, a waste of time, energy and money (not mine, yet any). I have recently realised I am not fond of celebrating. I realise why it is important to people and for social reasons I take part in celebrations, but do not cherish them as most people do.

As we were leaving for Bieszczady, I felt a deep relief. The weather during the Corpus Christi weekend was not quite fine (lots of rainfall), but made the most of clement mornings and early afternoons wandering past Połoniny, at times above clouds and relaxed indoors during afternoons. On our way back we made a stopover in Lublin, my first ever visit to the city and hopefully not the last one.

To a wedding

Just returned from a wedding ceremony and reception, the first one I attended since 2016.

Weddings have gained notoriety in the summer of 2020, as several of them were hotbeds of COVID-19 infections, leading to several participants being quarantined and some, sadly, hospitalised or deceased. Needless to say, a wedding is the last event during which a sanitary regime can be stuck to. I turned up there fully aware of risk and supposing that most guests (especially those who do not reside in Warsaw or around) have not been vaccinated. Well, hopefully with still low daily stats of new cases, we have not run across a super-spreader.

The one to get married was my girlfriend’s cousin. The nuptials ceremony was called off two times and finally the day named as restrictions eased. It was the first wedding since many years in their family, hence the excitement was palpable. For me, truth be told, such events are a no big deal I do not feel tempted to have my own memorable, lavish reception. Instead, I prefer a modest ceremony for family and friends. Besides, spending between fifty and one hundred thousand zloty for a one-night show appears to me as a far bigger waste of money than buying a SUV (though a wedding does not harm environment as an SUV does over its life cycle).

The wedding we attended was a typical zastaw się, a postaw się (literally run into debts to impress guests) one, albeit the expense was decreased by the venue of the reception which was in the middle of nowhere somewhere beyond Wyszków (fortunately, close to S8 expressway, whose proximity guarantee a fast comeback in the middle of the night).

I must admit this was the most weird wedding reception I have ever attended. As a company to my girlfriend, I knew nobody except for her, her mother, brother and his girlfriend, but truth be told, most guests seemed to know nobody except for their closest companions. On top, my girlfriend and her relatives shared my opinion nearly everybody had turned up to the reception treated their attendance as an unpleasant obligation to be ticked off and left behind. This was visible particularly on a dancing floor, where droves of people definitely were not witnessed. Also most people pushed along just after midnight to put themselves out of misery and return home early enough not to spend the entire Sunday morning sleeping off the event.

I wonder how many couples manage to tie a knot before restrictions are imposed again, if the Polish government decides (or is forced to) to bring some businesses to a halt if hospitalisations and death toll on account of COVID-19 begin to rise. Look at the approach of the British government which is set to lift all restrictions in a week, despite more than 30,000 new infections daily reported recently, with hospital admissions just creeping up (they rose 3 times, while new infections rose 16 times since trough in early May 2021) and deaths holding low thanks to vaccinating the 50+.

Cooking workshop

Frankly speaking, I am not fond of pottering about in the kitchen. I have learnt to do several basic and few more sophisticated meals after moving out from my parents, yet unless a lust for cooking comes over me (what happens once in a blue moon) I confine to a repertoire of simple and tested lunch sets, which I strive to broaden anyway. I cook lunches to take them to work for 3 reasons. Firstly, I lack time to eat out (it takes an hour, far too long given my dreadful workload). Secondly, I detest packaged lunches sold by people roaming around office buildings (such food contains lots of preservatives and other abhorrent chemistry). Thirdly, this sends a signal to the surrounding world I am self-sufficient and can take care of myself.

A voucher to a workshop in a Spanish cuisine was one of my birthday gifts and has proven to be the most inspiring one. Shortly after obtaining it I signed up for the first possible Saturday workshop, held yesterday.

The venue in which the workshop was run smacked of post-industrial climate. Located in the southern, least prime part of Mordor, not easily reachable by public transport, mixes climate of socialist factory district with modernity. Fortunately, I was there for just one afternoon.

Most participants also had received vouchers as gifts. Out of 16 people, 7 were two families that came together, on top some couples (including two gays) and some singles. Seems that trend of bestowing your relatives and friends with experiences rather than material stuff intensifies. A sign of times. If you wish to make such gift to somebody, a good idea is to hand it to your near and dear person or pass the hat round to decrease the cost per person, since experiences do not rank among inexpensive gifts.

Such workshop is one of such forms of meet-ups where people come, interact and go. I have just noticed all the friendships I have made in life are with people whom I had met repeatably, i.e. mostly at school or at work. I attended several courses and though relationships with some people met there lasted longer than those courses, none of them has survived until today.

The teacher was a seasoned cook, communicative and eager to share her passion with participants, yet for no apparent reason underlining too often she did not eat meat, but had to deal with it during the workshop (the Spanish cuisine is meat-rich). I wonder why she hadn’t given it up or just stuck to the vegan version…

The duration of the workshop turned out to be nearly five hours. For somebody not really fond of cooking and spending in the kitchen just as much time as absolutely necessary, this was a bit tiresome, though fun. Such form of pastime activity is about fun, experiments, learning and tasting something new. My homework to be done is to cook what I have learnt to my friends who sponsored my attendance.

Truth be told, I am not a fan of the Spanish cuisine. Some of the ingredients I like (olives), some I dislike (their meat), yet their dishes seem too stodgy (my stomach gently reminds me of it today), not to mention their nutrition habits over the day which totally do not square with mine (I consume a satiating breakfast, thnn fill up with a lunch and then eat little or nothing in the evening, to wake up longing for another huge breakfast.