Empathy Fatigue

You are not unempathetic because you cannot be fully, patiently empathetic with all people at all times.

The Power of Irony

The irony of feeling peak-powerful one minute to taking a literal minute to put a shirt on is not lost on me – it’s a lesson.

Seize the Day

If you take an opportunity, and truly seize the damn thing, then opportunities explode out of it in every direction.

Merry and Pure

Young souls have a curative quality, an honesty and an innocence that illuminates the dark malignancies that shroud adult society.

Guernsey’s Gladiators

Gladiators face each other because they must – it is do or die. Why are boxers jumping into the ring?

Estranging Kids and Eritrea

How you treat young people, what you say and do to to them, or what you fail to say and do, may irrevocably impact their life trajectory. 

Boys, Girls, Boxing

Fatigue can make cowards of men, but the deeper into that dark place you go, the brighter the light on the other side.

Coasting

Words rarely work to change behaviour – he says, writing words in the hope they do just that…

Sport, Glorious Sport (and Football)

I was better at reading than running. Or, to say the same thing in a different way: in my tiny Catholic primary school, I was second-pick for goalkeeper. There were two kids to choose from, and the slightly fatter kid got it over me.

“I Don’t Get Ill”…

After two nights of caustic distension and voluminous bilateral expulsion, the image of which no innocent reader really ought to have conjured on their midweek evening, I find myself recovered enough to sit up for extended periods, walk short distances (other than bed to toilet) – and write this blog post.

For-Once, A Non-Chirpy Blog

If there were a single ‘point’ to this piece it would be that: unpleasantness is, unfortunately, part and parcel of life. Being blind to it harms more than helps.

Our Dixcart Dam

Dixcart Bay makes you ache with its beauty: cliffs plunging into a small cove, facing blue waters and rocky outcrops in the bay. “We should build a dam,” Adam declares…

Taxi Tidbits

I have been driving a taxi most mornings over the last three months. Rising well before any hint of dawn, mostly I am driving mostly from 5am until mid-morning, taxiing all and sundry to and from Guernsey Airport, and elsewhere around our little island. Early on in the job, I found myself thinking about my…

Thirty: What Happens Now?!

Sense a change of season today? I have just finished a year working in the most rewarding position I’ve held in my life so far, as a youth worker. When colleague asked why I was leaving, I caught myself saying it’s ‘unfortunate’ the role isn’t financially rewarding. This is not what I truly think. What…

My Youth Club

It’s some feeling, leaving club after belting out Bohemian Rhapsody with operatic passion, alongside kids whose private lives I know to be traumatised and traumatising, having carved out of their day two hours of good, clean, safe fun. 

A Couple of Dear Old Dead Shags

The impossible majesty of a new day announces itself with the sun rising over Herm. A flock of ducks flies by, beating and quacking, in perfect V formation. He is gone, but he is present. He is free.

Talking Shop: Jobs, Careers and Callings

Don’t mind me as I eat my words about talking shop. I promise, it’s bloody interesting, with vicissitudes of gravity and levity that whip from heart-wrenching to hilarious and back again in the space of hours, sometimes minutes.

Early Bird Catches The Chirp

Mornings are an eternally appreciating asset: they increase in value as long as you own them. If you own your morning, you can afford all that your day demands of you.

AMA #5: LGBTQ+

AMA #5: “Is the West’s view of LGBTQ inequality in these countries justified?”

AMA #4: Money, Money, Money

AMA #4: “I used to travel with travellers cheques sewn and concealed in various places, no cashpoint cards, etc. How did you get by?”

AMA #3: Food

AMA #3: “Give us a quick breakdown and overview of the food in each of the countries visited, please?”

Big Up The Banya

As my body is being seared, and in front of me stands a burly Kyrgyz fellow, butt-naked but for his woollen hat, whirling a towel around like a lasso and causing us untold discomfort, it occurs to me I should write about the Russian banya.


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