I felt like a bit of me died with Dave Greenfield’s passing – my rebellious, non-conformist past, my youthful grasp for sex, drugs and rock n’ roll.
5:15 am on a dark and stormy Perth morning – I stagger out of bed into my training gear and into the blinding light of the living room, collapse into a chair and pick up my phone that has been on charge overnight.
I read the single WhatsApp message from my friend Rebecca back in the UK and my heart plummets with dread. “Oh no Ben – so sorry to hear about Dave Greenfield. Terrible news (sad face emoji) xx.” Horribly awake and panicky now I quickly tap in his name into Google and there’s the headline on the Rolling Stone website “Stranglers’ Keyboardist Dave Greenfield Dead at 71, After Coronavirus Battle.” Continue reading “Loss, Love and A Lime Tree”
He still remains something of an enigma to me – and I think he probably always will.
I’m struggling to identify a defining moment in mine and my dad’s relationship.
I’m struggling to pinpoint the qualities by which I can give you an idea of who he was as a man and who he was to us as a father and husband. I’m struggling to split out the spectrum of emotions he evokes in me into black and white words – but there’s nothing new in that, even a year-and-a-half after his death, he still remains something of an enigma to me – although these days in a good way. And I think he probably always will.
Continue reading “Dad”
Unless the Buddhists are right, we only get one crack at this…
February the 16th and I [expletive-deletive]ing love celebrating my birthday. Continue reading “Let’s celebrate, it’s alright baby”
Don’t waste time – now is not a rehearsal for the future.
“Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph, preserve your memories…”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck – where is the fucking thing!” I growled as I rummaged through yet another dusty storage box. Continue reading “I have a photograph…”
It’s a fecking blog – of course it’s self-indulgent – but it’s therapeutic processing some of my mental murk and connecting with you.
Well, it’s been a while since I’ve put finger to keyboard to capture some of my pomtifications. It’s not that this blog is one of those side projects of mine that I initially throw myself into guns-a-blazing and then let drift off on to my psychic shelf to gather dust, unloved and forgotten. The truth is I’ve been through/am going through an intensely busy, but richly expansive phase of my life right now with shit loads going on and mental, spiritual and physical challenges aplenty floating around my little sphere. Continue reading “Getting back on the horse”
My life just seems to get better with doors opening up to a universe of positive energy, light and possibilities.
In my previous three blogs I looked at how I got sober and my early recovery (see part 1 here, part 2 here and part 3 here). In this concluding part, I describe how I have found a more spiritual way to live in sobriety finding more happiness and fulfilment than I could have ever imagined in my old life. Continue reading “Getting sober (4) – living the high life sober”
Early recovery was an introspective roller coaster of fear, self-loathing and seething emotions.
In my last two blogs, I looked at waking up to my drinking and finally putting the booze down (see part 1 here and part 2 here). In this blog, I’ll share with you how I took my first shaky steps through early recovery. Continue reading “Getting sober (3) – early recovery: clearing up my earth”
Every situation I faced in my life…happy, sad, bored, angry, socialising, being alone, celebrating, feeling uncomfortable…I reacted to it by drinking.
In my last blog (click here to read it), I described how on a visit to see family in the UK, I hit my personal rock-bottom with my drinking. In this blog, I outline how I got sober. Continue reading “Getting sober (2) – “If it looks like a tomaayto…””
My powerlessness over alcohol had been sneaking up on me for years as my binges got more voluminous and my drunken behaviour more erratic.
I was trying to walk straight, I really was, but my legs had other ideas and all of a sudden I was bouncing off a wall and the pavement was rearing up fast to kiss my forehead. Continue reading “Getting sober (1) – hitting my rock bottom”