I’m So Glad I’m Not An Alpha Male!

wolf and dog imageI’m really glad I’m not an alpha male.

As an alpha male you have a terrible time. You’re always stressed, always under pressure, always fighting to maintain your position in the hierarchy. Somebody’s always trying to steal your alpha female . You have to be butch and dominant all the time and keep people in their place; it’s really tiring. And you have to keep looking over your shoulder because somebody’s always about to stab you in the back or bite you in the bum or worse. It’s just not worth it.

I don’t even want to be a beta male; I’m happy as a regular member of the pack. I don’t get first pickings of life’s carcases (that’s a metaphor) but I get enough scraps to stay alive. It suits me to not be important enough to be worth challenging. I don’t have much of an inner wolf anyway, probably more of a miniature golden retriever.

Being a zeta male – that’s where I’m comfortable. Everyone has low expectations so nobody’s disappointed; what’s not to like about that?

So what about you? What’s your preferred position: alpha, beta, zeta… or status-non-binary?

‘Always’….are you sure?

 

graphic of the word Always

 

Are we over-using words like this? Are you an always-er? Do you say things like…

“You ALWAYS say that”

“This ALWAYS happens to me!”

“It ALWAYS rains when we want to go out!”

“Why does he ALWAYS leave the toilet seat up!”

Alternatively, maybe you get annoyed when others do. Because this is  exaggeration obviously: hyperbole. The problem is that it conveniently conveys inevitability; it’s a tool of serial complaining; it justifies one’s miserableness. Is that a good thing?

What are your favourite ‘always’ statements?

What are your most annoying other people’s ‘always’s?

I’d love to know.

 

Love Story With Vegetable

Artwork of very elderly loving couple
Maisie and Bert were the happiest couple you could hope to meet. They’d been together for sixty-nine years and still doted on one another. Maisie was 95 and Bert 93 – and now Bert was dying.
Bert didn’t mind that he was dying; he’d had a wonderful life and couldn’t think of a single regret. He was ready to go. As he lay in bed, he knew this might be his last conversation with his beloved Maisie. His voice was faint.
“I love you, Maisie.”
“I love you too, Bert.”
“We had a good life, didn’t we, Maisie?”
“We did, Bert. We had a wonderful life.”
“I wouldn’t want to change anything, Maisie.”
“Neither would I, Bert. Not a thing.”
“It was just a shame about the parsnips, though, Maisie.”
“What do you mean, parsnips?”
“We never ate any parsnips.”
“You don’t like parsnips, Bert. We never had parsnips because you don’t like them.”
“But I do like parsnips. I thought we never ate them because you don’t like them.”
“I love parsnips, Bert. I thought it was you who didn’t like them.”
“I love parsnips too, Maisie.”
“Well, that’s a shame, Bert.”
“Still, never mind.”
“Yes. We managed very well without the parsnips.”
“We did. I love you, Maisie.”
“I love you too, Bert.”
And that’s how it ended.

Gerry Thompson

The ancient Celtic concept of thresholds in time and place

THE BETWIXT AND BETWEEN: a Celtic glimpse

Medieval illustration for Gerry Maguire Thompson's blog”This is a time that is not a time
In a place that is not a place
On a day that is not a day,
Between the worlds, and beyond….”

Why is the Celtic festivals of Beltane (April 30th) and Samhain or Hallowe’en (Oct 31st) traditionally associated with spirits entering our world, and with potential for divining the future?

What were the medieval royalty of Europe up to when they went out at dawn on the first day of May, to roll around naked in the morning dew in a most undignified manner? Continue reading “The ancient Celtic concept of thresholds in time and place”

Wishing Things Were Different… Or Loving What Is?

An experiment in getting life to work better

Gerry Maguire Thompson

Medieval illustration for Gerry Maguire Thompson's blog

Here’s something I’ve been thinking about recently: what would happen if I spent more time on loving what’s happening and less time wishing things were different?  The thought has arisen from my meditation practice and prompted a good deal of investigative reflection.

Continue reading “Wishing Things Were Different… Or Loving What Is?”

Heavy negative trips your parents laid on you

witchesI was sitting in a cafe In Brighton the other day, drinking a skinny decaff soy latte and pondering on the nature of existence, when I suddenly realised why things go so terribly wrong in our lives. It’s because of all those heavy negative trips that our parents lay on us when we’re young… Do these words ring any bells?.“You’ll poke your eye out with that stick!”…“We’re not made of money, you know”…“Don’t expect too much, then you won’t be disappointed.” This stuff can shape your whole outlook on life. HNTs, I call them. Thanks, Mum and Dad; I know you meant well. Continue reading “Heavy negative trips your parents laid on you”

Optimism and pessimism: #1

Three Characteristics of Pessimistic Thinking

Dr. Martin Seligman, former president of the American Psychological Association, identifies three characteristics of pessimistic thinking:    

The first is permanence. In other words, regarding temporary, passing events as being lasting and unchanging states. For example, your boss chews you out about something. You react by thinking, “I really hate him,” and you go on from there to think of all the things you don’t like about your boss. Your boss’s reprimand is a single, passing event, but you turn it into something permanent by thinking, “He’s always like that,” and “No matter what I do, he’ll never change.” On the other hand, the optimistic person thinks, “The boss is in a bad mood today. Something must have happened,” limiting the event to that day and not extending it any further.     Continue reading “Optimism and pessimism: #1”

Secret Jam: a tale of rural intrigue

home made jam and breadThis is how it began.

Every Tuesday morning, I travel to the delightful Sussex village of Ditchling for yoga class; I’m the only man among thirty delightful Ditchling ladies. At the end of class, another delightful group of Ditchling ladies takes over the space for a choir rehearsal. As part of this activity they make wonderful cakes, chutneys and jams, and sell these to one another to raise funds for the choir. I purchased a jar of this home made jam from a delightful choir lady at the produce table, and brought it home; it was the most delicious jam I had ever tasted.   Continue reading “Secret Jam: a tale of rural intrigue”