A Brand New Day...

On Sunday night, we got hit by the tail end of the Hurricane Katia and although it was comparatively mild where we live in the Shropshire borderlands, it did still cause a hell of a racket.

I've mentioned before how having labyrinthitis makes you feel as if you're on a ship at sea, well on Sunday night it sounded like the whole house was a ship at sea. The gusts would start low and quiet and then whoosh over and crash around the house like waves, joined by high-pitched, shrill whistles as it rushed through gaps in wooden fences and the corrugated sheet roof of the garage next door, the clatter of bins being knocked over, and gates rattling and banging against fences. The irregular patter of rain drops swept against the sky lights by the gusts of wind was like sea spray on a boat as it pitches dangerously from side to side. It genuinely felt like the house was being battered by a really rough storm, and it took quite some time before we were able to drift off to sleep again. I think we all (I had family staying over that night) felt somewhat nervous by so much noise, even though there really wasn't much risk of damage in our area, but it just felt as if something bad might be about to happen.

The fact that Sunday was also the 10th anniversary of 9/11, made me think of poor young Dorothy Gale in 'The Wizard of Oz' (my favourite film as a child) getting caught in that twister. Dorothy's character, as played by Judy Garland, is knocked unconscious inside her house, which is raised and dropped from a great height and eventually crash lands into a whole new world of technicolor vision, and for her nothing will ever look the same again. Similarly our world was changed forever in the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, and not only in the sense of that specific act of death and destruction, but as with Dorothy's experience in Oz which was often frightening and fraught with danger, the way we view the world (and each other) has changed as well. 

[Anyone interested in this might want to watch the British film Yasmin (2004) which looks at how the 9/11 attacks affect the lives of a Pakistani community living in West Yorkshire, and in particular how prejudice, intolerance, and the anti-terrorism measures may have led to increased tensions between different communities, and even pushed people towards extremism.]

Time is a funny thing. In some ways it's hard to believe that 10 full years have passed already - just where have they gone exactly? When I first found out about the twin towers plane crashes, I was on the school bus back home at the end of one of the first few days of sixth form. At around that time I met and became close friends with the man who would eventually become my boyfriend and with whom I now live. Time seems to have flown by in that sense. On the other hand the resulting war in Iraq seems to have dragged on for an eternity. Yes, in 10 years the world has most definitely changed, almost beyond all recognition. Yet despite the passage of time, for many the pain of grief, the feelings of loss of loved ones will never ease. And I don't of course just mean those who died in the attacks on New York and the Pentagon, but all those who have lost their lives as a result of that event; those fighting in the Middle East, and subsequent terrorist attacks such as those that took place in London on 7th July 2005, and in other attacks around the world.

Getty Images Photo By Getty Images/Chip Somodevilla Sun, Sep 11, 2011

For those that were present at the Memorial events in New York and who were grieving the loss of friends, family, and co-workers, it might seem, like Dorothy when she awakens in her bed in Kansas, that barely a day has passed since that fateful day, when the world was literally turned upside down.

For my mother, the attacks on September 11th 2001, signalled the start of a series of pretty awful events in her professional and personal life. For one thing she turned 50 on the 12th, the day after the attacks took place. While many people choose to celebrate their 50th with big family parties where they can joke about being over the hill with a glass of bubbly in one hand and a piece of cake in the other ("Ooh I shouldn't really, I've not got the figure of a teenager anymore... but it is my birthday after all"). In my Mum's case, my Dad had arranged a lovely and thoughtful day out at the races in a posh car, which was owned and chauffeured by a family friend, but unfortunately with the shock of the previous day's events still sinking in, Mum really didn't feel like celebrating her birthday at all, let alone swanning around like a lady of leisure at the races. After much cajoling she was persuaded to go along with the plan, but when my Dad mentioned that he would like to take shopping as well so that she could pick out something she liked, she had to put her foot down. How could she possibly want to go shopping after what had happened?

Mum quite often talks about 9/11 as a catalyst for all the big changes that took place in her and our lives after the attacks. What happened immediately before the milestone of her 50th birthday made her question a lot of what she had previously taken as given in her life. I won't name names or apportion blame as that would be unprofessional, but sadly this spelled the beginning of the end of my parent's marriage, which in turn led to the liquidation of the family training business (which my mother had built up over the last 18 years), us eventually moving house, periods of unemployment, and so on and so on. Over the past decade, Mum has had more than her fair share of crap to deal with, from Administrators (always with a capital A in my mind since we lost the business), to lawyers, planners, banks, redundancy, debts, DIY, and dating.

But now 10 years have come to pass, and Mum has now turned 60 (although you wouldn't think it if you didn't know). Like her 50th, the idea of a lavish celebration that happened to coincide with the 9/11 10 year anniversary seemed wholly inappropriate, so instead of a big party we just invited Mum and my siblings round to our place for a bottle of bubbly, followed by a yummy curry in town, and everyone stayed with us so Mum didn't have to drive. On the next day, Mum's actual birthday, I accompanied Mum and my younger sister Annie to Cardiff to drop her off at her new house before the start of the third year in Uni. For some reason on the way down Mum kept saying how much she wanted to buy a Sting album (specifically one with the Brand New Day track).

We had a tasty lunch at Gourmet Burger Kitchen (yay!) in the city centre and then Mum and I drove home with Sting playing on repeat on the car stereo.

The track, Brand New Day, was to be her new anthem, and it would be symbolic of the end of a horrible decade, and the start of something new. Far from feeling depressed about turning 60, she was feeling really positive and had loads of ideas of things she wanted to do with herself in this new period of her life. We both decided we wanted to "do more". I opened up about feeling frustrated by being stuck at home with this labyrinthitis, and decided that I wanted to get out and do more interesting things that were for me - not just watching films with friends (you can do that anywhere and anytime), but I want to see more exhibitions and plays, and go to more concerts and gigs, things that might not necessarily be 'couple things', but that I still want to do, whether it's with other friends or family, or just on my own.

I'm really enjoying writing at the moment, so I'm going to keep that up and I also want to keep learning new things. I'm thinking of signing up for a course in web design which would no doubt help me with my current job and take a bit of pressure off our in house designer, but it would also be another string to my bow in general. I'm going to keep on selling things on Amazon and Ebay to help clear out the junk, and clear my overdraft.

But that's not to say that the end of a decade is just about wiping the slate clean - a lot of good things have happened over the past 10 years as well as the bad ones. During my time off work, I've finally started sorting out all the postcards that I've collected over the years and I'm hoping to display them creatively, if not stylishly (but not holding my breath) around the house. I've already got some up in the downstairs loo!

"What's the use of Enlightenment, when you're out of loo roll?"

Looking back through these old postcards helps me remember the places I've been to and the fun times I've had with friends and family, but it also motivates me to see new places and to keep my mind active and curious.

What I have to remember is that it is up to me to make the decisions that are important in my life, and how it will turn out over the next 10 years. There's no use in regretting past decisions, or blaming circumstances for being unhappy about something in your life, if you're not willing to do anything about it. That would be a very good example of Sartre's "bad faith" or mauvaise foi.

Turn the clock to zero, honey / I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money / We're starting up a Brand New Day.

Turn the clock to zero, boss / The river's wide, we'll swim across / Started up a Brand New Day