Haters

It is said that if you find that you have no enemies, it would be wise to create some.

I have been blessed and favoured with so many things in my life and as a consequence I have never found myself in the unfavourable position of ever having to create an enemy; I am easy to find and I am an easy target, perfect compost to propagate the haters. They have constantly sort me out and found me by their own energies and inclinations as a natural course of events like a river snaking its single minded path to the ocean. These defamers, detractors and falsifiers always serve a great, noble and defining purpose, as do ten thousand rivers that consummate the greats waters.

We are always drawn towards and magnetised by family, friends and lovers, though sadly it is a profound truth that family and friends can be fickle and lovers can be lazy with with their opinions and truths, as they see them. It is most usually so to avoid hurting our feelings. Our enemies and back biters are never so shackled in the least degree and have free reign on their opinions and truths. As humans, we are most driven by love or anger and, as it were, anger has much more commitment and reliability, it has its own constantly fuelled ready engine. With that turbo charged engine rumbling nicely, it is then that our detractors become the most predictable and consistent people that we could have any contact with in any sphere of our lives, and more so, they are compelled to express and vent their truths and opinions in the action of calling others to their battle torn banners of closed minded bigotry and hatred. These defamers are extremely useful in the same manner as plastic bollards and crude warning signs, in that they can help to keep you honest and on the straight and narrow. I will always listen intently to what my enemies say and I will continually observe hawk like as to what it is that they do or do not do, and I so learn from them a facet of the nature of my character and the frame and focus of my actions as some others genuinely see me. This is very important exercise and must be endured.

It is one of the lessons of life that one must understand in order to develop into a balanced human being, that you are never a perfect specimen and constant improving and polishing is always required. Enemies eagerly offer granite hard edged help in this regard. Very occasionally and only in extreme cases have I ever knowingly changed anything about myself or how I conduct myself in any facet of my life, based on what I have taken inboard by their bare naked and vengeful honesty.

As for me, though I do freely admit that the back biters and antagonists have their rightful place in the great complex scheme of things I do not offer their kind of service to others, because those people who believe in brutal honesty get their pleasure from the brutality only, their ‘honesty’ is a mere bi-product of the exercise of delivering anger, humiliation and ridicule. This is because they are basically small minded people who can only feel any sense of self-worth by demeaning other people. Haters are unhappy people, people with broken confidences and shattered egos. They are mean minded people, and nothing is more unseemly and unpleasant than a righteous person with a churlish and malicious mind. They may, and often do pretend otherwise but the simple and elegant psychological truth outs them every time they speak or act in full accordance of their antagonist actions. Happy people do not fight, happy people do not condemn but happy people do find other expressly positive methodologies to help other people along. I am a happy man who likes to sing a happy song.

The most wonderful thing about having haters camping and campaigning in the back yard of my life is that it is proof positive that I am making a difference and I have the balls enough to change and challenge things. That makes me an easy and consistent, rational and logical target and I welcome that, more than that, I am very grateful because it proves to me that I am always more than they could ever be, in shape, form and thought and I will conspicuously and consistently strive to keep this very convenient status quo.

For those who are genuinely interested in, and or in need of an enemy or a detractor or two, for all the sound reasoning’s above. The simplest and easiest way of achieving this goal is to change something, try and make a difference to other peoples lives. It is as simple as that, try it and you will be rewarded by backbiting and verbal assassination. Job done. It is only at the tree heavy with fruit that people throw stones.

First they ignore you,
then they laugh at you,
then they fight you,
then you win.
– Mahatma Gandhi

With my chief supporter and avid none hater, the rather lovely Sinead (Shorn) Byrne.

Remarcmoorable

I am what is generally called a martial artist of long standing, I first started attending Judo classes in 1964, and I also went on to make a reasonable study Karate and Aikido; it is gratifying to me to  find that I am still learning my craft today almost fifty years on, and so I believe that I have earned my right to express my opinions through my teachings with my own philosophy and outlook, born of my experiences, inside and outside of my classes. I have luckilly spent my time since June 2000 in utter selfishness with regard to my martial arts, I train only for me and I teach only for me, yet somehow I have managed to gain a strong loyal student following and a base secure enough to leave a lasting legacy of my collective thoughts and strategies.

I have always had a fascination with violence as many men have, that never made me particularly unusual. I became unusual by what I did with my life and studies once I was truly smitten by the world of ferocious disorder and disturbance. From the age of eighteen until my semi retirement as a bodyguard in 2000, I deliberately put myself on the painful and sometimes humiliating path of outrageous practical studies. At the tender age of eighteen I became a doorman with the sole intent of pitting my martial arts against the rough and toughs who gave not a fig for my stances and Japanese terminology. On my first night, I got beaten up so badly that I was in bed for over a week and I had a pressing concern that I may be permanently blinded in one eye. Once I was over the shock I was left with a total feeling of invigoration, I felt more alive that I had ever done before and I had realised that I had dutifully played my part in the best martial arts lesson I had ever had, and I even got a small wage packet as well, I was truly hooked.

Writing about martial arts is strange exercise rather like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands or to hold back the moon, one day you always feel that against all the odds that you will successfully pull the trick off. I am still typing and still waiting.  When I write about martial arts I only write for me because I find it a cathartic experience in that it is only an exercise in organising and clearing my thoughts. Please accept my apologies in advance.

There are only two types of martial artists, those who study to show and those who study to do. I am only talking to those who train to do. Whatever art or system that you train in it is vital to never lose sight of the fact that when you move it must make sense in every direction and angle. Hopefully this will lead you to discover that you will need to abandon your style to become formless and devoid of stylish movements and flourishes. The more style that you move with and fight with the easier you will be understood and thus more readily attacked at your weakest point. Take everything that you know to its base and simplest level and learn the principle of what you are engaged in, the technique may be irrelevant but the principle never is, and to truly understand one thing is to truly understand many things; do not forget this simple rule.

Forget strength and speed and fitness, these are all paths that lead to dead ends or to the cul-de-sac of wasted years. This is simply because as the years advance on your body it will lose its grip on all those vitalities and so, there has to be a smarter way, and the sooner that you start out on the smarter way the better, as your life may well depend upon it. I too was young and fit and strong and I too wanted to flaunt my machismo and so I do fully understand its red blooded temptations. Now, in my purple muddle age I can aptly demonstrate and teach with sound principles and strategy that the easiest three things to overcome in any antagonist are strength and speed and fitness. In consequence what is extremely hard to overcome is someone who has a sound knowledge of their personal strengths and weaknesses and is well versed in the strategies of movement and distance and timing. This must be experienced to be fully understood.

Perhaps the most important principle to understand and also perhaps the most difficult principle to master is that you cannot adequately control or become victorious over your antagonist by the power of your body pitted against the power of his body but only by the continuing adjustment and manipulation of the ever changing space between you and your antagonist. The very idea of this principle may only be understood by the more experience practitioners and then it can only be practised and polished with the correct training. This very idea of only controlling and manipulated that changing space between you and your antagonist is only one of the many methodologies that I study and that I practice and then in turn teach to those students who studies are at that point of understanding and experience.

Please do not practice martial arts to only become an expert as this very attitude will hinder your studies and it must be understood that the mountaintop is a barren place, as all life is sustained only on its slopes.

This is another short article but then again, I am a short man who is short on words. Thank you for your time as that is more precious to me and more of a compliment than your agreement of my ideas based on my life experiences and training.

Black is The Colour

Perhaps the most important milestone for any martial arts practitioner is the attainment of their Black Belt. This, though can be a more contentious area particularly for instructors and their school or association. The issue can easily become highly personal to the instructor or a particularly political concern for the school or association concerned.

Throughout my many years of instruction and my granting or awarding of the hallowed artifact of a Black Belt I have never witnessed any student who did not genuinely give of their best; some indeed are better prepared than others, that has certainly been true and will always be so but I view that as a separate argument or concern. I have ceased to look upon the Black Belt grading as the acid test of ability, focus or personality of any particular or all the relevant students, but rather I have fashioned my mind to observe their humanness and thus grant them the privilege of living up to their own ideal of themselves. I award a Black Belt as a gift of things to come and not as a marker of what has come before. As any heartfelt gift that is given you are always acutely aware of what becomes of that gift, perhaps like a carefully crafted and chosen vase, will it be left in its presentation box and placed most carefully away with a host of other dry memories or will it be settled in pride of place and appreciated for the wealth of sentiment and encouragement, thankfulness, gratitude and acknowledgement that this token represents?

Having said that, I have known students to resign themselves from the group or class once their Black Belt has been attained, either eager to try their hands and feet at a new system or to leave the martial world behind them. Whether this happens or not, it does not in my mind devalue my gift to them, they can do with it as they wish, no one gives a vase on the condition that it must be displayed center stage on the mantlepiece.

The problem that all instructors have to overcome is that the less physically able student will reflect badly upon himself as the instructor, while the issue concerning the school or association is of a similar nature. Neither view is helpful to the student and is not designed for their benefit. Of course, it cannot be so allowed that students who are clearly not capable to take on the hefty responsibility as a Black Belt can be allowed to flourish. The answer is the same to most things, it is found in the balance of all relevant things.

Whenever I choose to stand on this hard compacted ground of experience and hindsight and I can boast most proudly that some of my Black Belts are technically not the best that I have ever seen, while others I am happy to state could be called average and yes, ultimately some of my Black Belts are amongst the very best I have ever seen. That though, is an exercise only in the seeing eye and not of the observing eye and of  the benevolent heart. Whenever I choose to warm this old heart of mine and observe the fruits of my students constant labours and sufferings that converge and culminate in their award of their Black Belts I only see their dedication, their indomitable will and their spirit, I look for and see nothing else. As for me personally, I will hang with the consequences. As for my organisation it is always the stronger and more resilient with such personalities and skills within than without.

I salute every Black Belt that comes through my watch, they are the keepers of the way and they are all amazing. Recently, a small thirteen year old boy by the name of Jamie, who after almost nine years of training under my guidance and also more recently that under Sinead Byrne had spent over a month of continuing grading and assessment for his Black Belt. In my many, many years of instruction I had only twice before ever awarded a Black Belt to anyone under the age sixteen, so this was an extra special event. On his final night with his final task he did that which I had never witnessed before and nor would I have thought practical or possible, he took on seventeen adult students many of who were Black Belts of various ranks with the simple instructions that they could attack him in any order or combination until Jamie could take them to the ground, at which point the adult would be out of the fight. The complete task took some twenty minutes, twenty minutes that I will not forget and nor will anyone present that most amazing of evenings. Jamie, is now both the smallest and greatest example that I can ever consider as the perfect epitome of a Black Belt. No one can ever say to me that Jamie did not earn the belt that he is now wearing.

Young Jamie, with myself and Sinead Byrne

A Simple Test

When a student is first presented with the cold words first formulated hundreds of years previously by warriors of ancient times, and when that student is filled with the expectations of their fellow students, reading, understanding and then teaching a chosen form at a moments notice this then is a daunting act of faith.

This is an exercise that I have once again pitted towards my black belt students. It is their vision of their own understandings that I am particularly interested in, it is the best methodology that I have to observe their general levels of assimilation and awareness, and in turn which areas require more polish and practice for them.

Though I find it a good test I find that it is also an unfair test as the students cannot possible hope to understand any form in such a pressurised and short span of time, but that is part of the test. The students always initially make the same mistake as they believe that the simplest forms to read are always the simplest forms to learn and to teach, this again is all part of the process.

In the understanding of a written form it is obviously important to understand what is written, but it is equally important and far less obvious to understand what is not written. Also, it is wise to never show more than you can explain.

When working on a form, you should never think about the artistry, refinement and the grace. Only try to solve the problem, but when you have finished and you find that the solution is not beautiful then you know you are wrong. You would be wrong because Budo is the ultimate sculpture because it has to constantly make sense from every angle, and this is artistry, grace and refinement. This is beauty.

You can learn many things from Budo. For example how much patience and commitment you have. The effort of understanding Budo is the one thing that can lift you above the drudgery of life towards the grace of living.

Budo has never failed in giving me a sense of consistent truth and sincerity that I have found lacking outside of the art. This is part of the feeling of which I endeavour to express and to teach.

If you want to be happy for a short time, get drunk. If you want to be happy for a long time, fall in love. If you want to be happy forever, please take up Budo.

Budo and love; love and budo

My very favourite typing fingers have been tweaked, sharpened and thoroughly educated to carefully construct this piece so that it presents itself with a distinct beginning, a middle, and a definite ending, whilst most carefully keeping the beginning and the ending as close together as possible. This is a budo and a combat trick that has been educated into me over the decades, you may also use it with my compliments whenever its opportunity presents itself to you.

The beginning: Some years ago I found myself in an idle farcebook conversation with a rather cute yet sulky looking Irish girl. She was an eight times Kenpo Karate world champion at the top of her sporting prowess and yet she wanted to find out more about the big bad world of budo and so we became engaged in a firm farcebook friendship. Then, sometime later as luck, happen stance or even love can do it provides a bridge or a path to the next development, and so out of the blue I was for the first time invited to teach a budo seminar in Ireland. We met, this grumpy budo bumkin and the sulky girl called Sinead Byrne. Years later she said that although she did not realise it at the time, it was for her budo love at first sight. As for me, I was short sighted and I still am in so many ways.

That was then and this is now, and the now is that we can now protest the first anniversary of our budo bondage and long sort after love. I congratulate us both as we have both had to overcome and surmount an assault course of life’s obstacles to reach this place of love and peace, and I wish to thank those that do not point out with wicked withered fingers the obvious disparity between us and as a result the difficulties that may face Sinead and I as a couple. For those who wish to know but have had the human decency not to ask or to gloat at that which may have been obvious to many. I am now armed with the courage and the firm belief in common decency and I now honestly state unequivocally for the record and to cease the sniping of the shallow minded that yes, Sinead is actually half an inch taller than me.

Despite the height difference we are very much in love yet we are aware that there are many who still regard this difference as unseemly, and we patently acknowledge the possible issues that this unusual disparity may raise. I for one never intentionally sort the tender affections of a taller woman and Sinead has stated that she is not necessarily only attracted to shorter men. I have also looked around and googled this issue and I understand that there is an increasing trend in loving relationships that have similar height differences.

The middle: Sinead has now left Dublin, the city of her blue eyed birth and we now live together in the Glorious city of Gloucester surrounded securely by love, budo and rugby and with the blessings of our respective friends and families. We share our budo and our lives as we would share a grand fish supper and we are the better and stronger for it.

This last year has seen the culmination of almost five years of dedication for Sinead in her new budo path and I can say that her spirit of an eight times world Kenpo Karate champion has constantly shone through with blood, sweat, tears and humour and I will state that I am captivated by her unbroken enthusiasm and sense of purpose. I may have taken her on a journey of budo wonders but she has taken me along the path that leads to the deepest dimensions of love, and for that she has as yet only received scant reward for that gift of the senses. I owe her big time. I know that.

Recently on a snow blown winter Wednesday in Swindon Sinead completed four long arduous evenings of demonstrations and instructions regarding certain principles and techniques of Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu. Then to cap it all, she had to repeatedly defend herself against up to nine strapping blokes of all ranks. She smashed them all in a fabulous and furious and yet feminine flurry of movement distance and timing. She delivered her kicks, punches, throws and locks with precision and consummate control. To award Sinead her black belt was one of the joys of my life.

And so the story of Sinead shall continue with her Bujinkan black belt as her badge of honour. Budo Warrior Schools is a stronger and better place with Sinead in it and leading the way for any brave woman or man to follow in her wake.

The end: Well, this brazen story of budo and love and the ties that bind them has only just begun so, how can I say what the ending is. My belief is that the story will magically settle on the wings of a dove.

What I would like to happen is to one day marry this blue eyed, raven haired Irish kunoichi flibbertigibbet, though I do recognise that she will have to ask me first. Also, I would wish that Sinead fulfils her abundant budo promise and talent to be one of the premier female Bujinkan practitioners. Sinead is additionally a young woman of dynamic ideas and systems that can only strengthen and complete Budo Warrior Schools. And to that end, I say that this is indeed the end of my search for love, romance and budo of the heart.

My love and congratulations to Sinead on passing her shodan grade. Gambatte, the journey continues.

Some things you should know

Writing about Budo is a very difficult and often times a ridiculous enterprise. To write about the attainment of a feeling of intuitive flow, that makes sense of the journey from complete novice to experienced practitioner is fraught with dangers. My chief motivation to keep muddling along with such a blog as this is that no one else has managed the task quite as badly as me.

The effort of understanding Budo is its own reward as it is the one thing that can lift you above the drudgery of life towards the grace of living.

Familiarity and total involvement in Budo is a dangerous commitment, because with experience you begin to copy yourself, and that is far more dangerous than copying others. It begins with the loss of creativity and only leads to sterility and possibly death. Never become complacent with your training.

Hard times and constant struggles can often develop the highly valued and virtuous qualities of the great leaders, but tough times cannot change the nature of the vicious, selfish and small minded.

If you have nothing at all to add or say, then you should be highly advised not to say it. Think carefully before you speak as your words can easily betray you.

Budo is the ultimate sculpture and representation of nature because its dynamic balance has to constantly make sense from every angle.

Standing still is not as simple as it
looks.

Everything that is exact is short.

It does no longer bother me or concern me as it continues bother and concern others that I do not teach Budo as they do.

A Budo practitioner should concern himself more with the nurture of his nature rather than the nurturing of his techniques.

When fighting, few things are are certain, least of all success.

Two techniques or principles are always required: one to counter the other. You must learn that what can be done, can also be undone.

Those who undertake Budo must investigate many more things than just the practical nature of such techniques that come their way. Budo is in the brain and not in the hands and feet.

The first and last thing required in Budo is the love of truth in the balance of consequences.

Only two things should be in a constant state of repair; friendships and Budo.

Your vital thoughts are the ones which successfully contradict your emotions and thus your reactions. Thoughts are things.

If you can truly master one thing and understand that one thing well, you then will have insight into and the understanding of many things. To know one thing is to know one hundred things.

Do not put your faith in what a kata or technique says until you can understand what it does not say.

To know how wait is the great secret of Budo, it is always the timing of nature. Timing is the meaning of Budo.

Be very watchful of what you allow into your head as you may find that it will never leave you alone.

Initiating your retaliation first is sometimes the best strategy, in any case be sure to make it a rule never to have more than one fight at a time.

Twenty six things

Twenty five things that Budo has taught me, though I do reserve the right to change my mind at the very next opportunity.

1) I’m shorter than most people

2) The gift of fear; the very thing you are scared of is proof that it is not happening, because if it was you would be scared of something else.

3) Do not trust any technique further than you can throw someone.

4) Detachment from any weapon: the less your attachment the less you will use it and therefore you will only use it at vital times.

5) To have a calm mind and an aggressive body, or an aggressive mind and a calm body.

6) Even the worst practitioner can sometimes have the best technique.

7) Strength, speed and fitness can never be relied upon.

8) Love is stronger than hate but hate has more commitment.

9) Learn a technique as well as you can then learn the variations as well as you can. Forget the technique and variations, just polish and understand the principle. Forget the principle and learn the strategy.

10) Seek everyday to accept and understand yourself a little more and to only practice your movement, distance and timing.

11) The only weapons you have are fear, doubt, surprise and confusion.

12) He who asks a question is a fool for five minutes but he who never asks is a fool for life. Once your questions have been answered, shut up and punch.

13) Most martial artist only allow their knowledge to go straight to their fists.

14) There is far more to a punch than meets the eye.

15) The only way to successfully move someone is to alter the space between you and them.

16) Be the master of your own centre line.

17) You need only to find some mischief to upset the spine of your antagonist in order to defeat him.

18) Three points of contact works best.

19) You are never as good as you think you are and seldom as good as other people think you are.

20) If I had no enemies I would soon create some, they are the most consistent people.

21) It is perfectly ok to laugh at yourself.

22) Do not be too attached to any results.

23) Never show fear.

24) Trust only to love, justice and truth.

25) To strive to be the best human being that you can.

Budo has it seems taught me many things, yet life has taught me but one thing.

1) Be first, best or different.

Let it begin

It is now 2013. The New Year has truly begun, much like last year, if my memory is correct but then my memory is lending me the distinct feeling that 2012 only started about three months ago. Time increasingly kicks you much harder in the pants as you get older and let that be a warning to you youngsters out there.

One of my major annual goals never changes and that is to be a worthy man in all aspects of my life. Well, let me tell you that is a continuing struggle and I have never reached the peak of who I want to be as the sides of the mountain that I have to climb are awfully slippery. This past year has brought me love, understanding and tender affection in the delicate shape of a raven haired blue eyed Irish girl who is never too afraid to kick me in the arse when ever deserved, and without her constant help and encouragement this blog would have been written and finished months ago.

For the past eighteen months I had placed myself with the responsibility of studying and teaching the complete system of Shindenfudo Ryu Daken Taijutsu, and this I did well enough to spot where I could improve myself, if I were ever to undertake the same task again. I had thought that I would look closely at another system such as Koto Ryu for a similar task but I have decided to turn that down for the time being in order to make a full in depth and rigorous study of the much misunderstood art of the advantage. As far as I am concerned at present the art of the advantage is a very well studied and reasoned set of congruent thoughts and allied actions specifically tailored and used in unison and targeted at pitting your natural and learned advantages and strengths along with bluff and subterfuge against your studied weaknesses of your antagonist. This is strategy. This is the art of the advantage.

So, this will be the main thrust of my personal studies and teaching for this year at least. This decision does come with its own set of problems because unlike a martial system like my previous study of Shindenfudo Ryu there is no specific start or finish and no handy notes to pinpoint tricky of ‘secret areas of study’. I shall start where I shall and just let the journey take me to wherever it will take me and for those that will trace the journey with me I hope that you enjoy the ride.

Tonight, at my first class of this year I shall begin my new journey. Wish me luck.

No, I am not Superman

I am chiefly known as a mean man of martial arts, and that I can tell tales about my death defying adventures that can curl a cat’s whiskers, I am though not such a thick skinned superman as some may think, for example, I find that for me, genuine honest criticism is very hard to take, especially from a family member, a loved one, a friend, an acquaintance or even a stranger, which is strangely odd as I have become very well accustomed to this form of free speech over the course of my turbulent life. I have discovered and rediscovered that there are people out there in plain sight who wish to take pride in their brutal honesty, though for these people their principle pleasure and focus is clearly in the brutality and not in the honesty.

Personally I much prefer to hear how wonderful I am, and I know that I am also not unusual in wanting to hear those wisdoms of joy as we all love hearing how scrumptious we can be. It is just that as much as I thrive on hearing them, I tend to mistrust much of those words. I am a difficult man to know and very few get within the close compass of a hug and it is of those brave few that I trust. Trust to me is everything. I mainly take my criticism and my praise like I take my punches, I just shift a little and let them slip harmlessly by, but occasionally the odd one takes me off guard and crashes through my subtle but stringent defence.

It is obvious that of those whom I can accept praise from serve a vital and very welcomed role in my life and I love them all dearly. It is though less obvious and equally important and relevant that I accept and learn to tolerate the criticisms from whichever directions they come and as fast as they come as they also play vital role in my life. Theses harsh words and their authors keep me honest and constantly striving to never hear their kind again. I let harsh words sustain me by spurring me on to extinguish their fire, their pain is a reminder of their helpfulness

This attitude that I have regularly polished thankfully mirrors my lifetime of budo and bujutsu training, in which the one who truly wrestles with me and seeks to break my balance, the one who strikes at me from hidden places and tears at my flesh is clearly a worthy opponent and a rightful antagonist. Such a person is my keen helper because he can only test my nerve and sharpen my qualities and he so hones my skills and he focuses my thoughts on my craft as no other can. My enemy is thus my helper and my ally and he is invaluable to the dark arts of my survival.

In my life as in my budo and my bujutsu I willingly encompass those that will seek to injure me with their sharp tongues and barbed words, whether they are genuine haters of me or loved ones who need to remind me of things as forgotten by me, just as those who will risk their bodies and in some cases their lives in their pursuit of bettering me or of the taking of my life. I will welcome everyone, loving or harsh as a fellow traveller of the way.

No Larkin About

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.

– Philip Larkin

When I was fifteen I did not leave home. At fifteen at ran from home. I escaped and I dashed just as fast and as far away that I could. At fifteen I was alone and one of my first decisions was not to jump, I looked down from the heights and was struck by how the cold icy water looked so warm and inviting. I did not jump but I’ve never been back to that bridge.

Between the ages of around fifteen and twenty five I believe I was at the most emotional and complex point in my relationship with my parents. The sudden death of my father helped kick me uncomfortably out of my mental exile but with the hope and belief that I would be a much better father than he. My father told the world he become a pacifist but he was a psychological bully. He was a pacifist bastard. He told me that I would never write, because I had no talent and that I would amount to nothing worthwhile. He died as he lived with no friends or flowers. I swore on that day, in that cold lonely crematorium that I would not die like him, and the only way to achieve that was not to live like him.

My mother is now old and very forgetful and mostly at home on her stairlift. She speaks to me in loving tones and she is very fond of my girlfriend, and that I find to my liking. I do though, only have one memory of my mother ever showing any affection to me as a child, I remember it very vividly because of how odd but warm and loving it felt, and I also recalled the strangers in the room.

By the time I had my own children I was not fully aware of the famous Philip Larkin poem and certainly not of the last verse. The poem became true and I became true to the poem. I did not mean to be a weak and poor father, I loved my children so utterly tenderly and fully and so I do to this day. It is just that I am not a perfect man and the job of a father is to get as close to that perfection as possible. How far short I fell from the bulls eye is up to my children to determine for themselves. I can read their hurts and trace their scars more clearly now as they have all entered adulthood. My only defence is that I was ignorant of myself much of the time and that I did not make the terrible mistakes of my parents, this I know because I took great pains in avoiding that particular litany of tragic tangled webs. I just messed up elsewhere along the way, on my own accord and repeatedly so, I am a serial offender in my crime of being a short sighted prat. The fact that my children still love me is only proof of their devoted and generous natures. I fully accept their love and I can only hope that they can accept my apology for my numerous limitations as their father.

When my dust is finally settled and they can asses their lives without my shadow, they will though at the very least believe that I loved them and they must recall that I never belittled them, and in the acknowledgment of those facts I hope that they will also in turn realise and accept their own personal shortcomings as human beings as they see them. My only advice to them would be to let their mistakes be their own and not mine, also at all costs do not grow up, it’s a trap and you won’t get out alive.

I can accept myself as a father of flawed character and yet still be true to myself and regard myself on balance as an unbalanced man plagued by being a childish selfish show-off. On the plus side I am loyal to my children and love them all with equal abundance.

I sincerely believe that if I myself and my children, and indeed anyone else can more readily and cheerfully accept our blistered personalities then we will receive in due course VIP tickets to the First Class lounge of the human race where love, compassion and tenderness are the only acceptable currencies, and believe me, very few fit the invite and so not many people get a ticket.

If I see you in there, mine is a single malt.

I hasten to add that the above is an old photograph and only the ones who love them all dearly would recognise any of them as the transformation into adulthood is another great adventure.