Random Thoughts on a Sunday Morning
Since I last wrote, I’ve marked Paul’s birthday, visited my nephew’s house, and caught up with my sister Nett. I felt an unexpected urge to connect more deeply with my brother-in-law David — someone I’ve known since 1972. I’ve cleaned, I’ve walked, I’ve shopped. But I find myself wondering… is that really fulfilling a purpose in life?
It seems that most of us just live. We breathe, we experience, we drift, and if we’re lucky, we gather whatever good comes from our actions along the way.
If this is the journey — and it is — then we may as well surround ourselves with beauty. Music. Art. Objects that speak to us. The kind of stuff that makes your soul blink and say: “Yes, I’m here.”
Lately I’ve wondered if I’ve stagnated a little. But then I realise my views are still fluid, still questioning. I see things shifting in the world. I notice that freedom of speech is under pressure — we’re walking through a minefield right now. And the disturbing thing about free speech is that it only works when it’s tempered by personal ethics, logic, reason, and restraint. It’s far too easy to be tampered with. Words fly everywhere. But somehow, we have to hold on to our own compass — to let our own integrity guide us toward a personal north star.
The values and ethical codes that matter to me are the same ones I’ve carried for decades. But it’s so easy to get nudged off-course. A single phrase, an idea that sounds reasonable, can shift your viewpoint. Sometimes that’s good — it means you’re alive to nuance. But sometimes it’s just the algorithm dragging you deeper into a vortex of curated opinions, feeding you exactly what you want to hear.
I’m happiest when I’m listening to people talk about music.
This morning I’ve got John Coltrane’s Ballads album on — recorded in 1963. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference between his late 50s and early 60s sound if it wasn’t for a podcast I’ve been following. It’s called You’ll Hear It, hosted by Peter Martin and Adam Maness. Two musicians just talking shop, quietly unpacking the layers of jazz. It makes me feel connected to something timeless. Music is like that.
Anyway — enough random thoughts for now.
We’re going for a walk.
