On 5 November my friend Tamara goes into hospital for an operation. Although she knows it will cause her a lot of pain, she’s being unbelievably calm and – in fact – she’s even excited! It’s testament to her unbelievable character, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be more in awe of her. It’s just a shame I won’t be able to tell her that in person.

Quite understandably, Tamara doesn’t think she’ll be up for visits in hospital. Instead, she seems to have plans beyond that – she wants to get the operation over and done with and go home as soon as possible. After that, she’ll want to see people. I hope I can be one of them, because it’s the very least I want to do after all she’s done to help and reassure me over the past year. Sometimes she seems to put herself down, but there’s no need for that at all, because she has a heart of gold and everyone should recognise that. She’ll say or do whatever it takes to see those who are most important to her smile, and she lights the fire within you so that you can feel warm and calm again, even if it’s only for a split second in the middle of a crisis. I don’t think anything I write here will really do her justice – she’s one of these people you need to meet for yourself. When you do, she’ll instantly make you comfortable. Even if you’re at a stage where you’ve only exchanged a few words with her, she’ll still look out for you. When I started sixth form, I didn’t know Tamara as well as I do now, but I could tell there wasn’t a bad bone in her body a mile off. My observations were proven to be correct when I was eating lunch outside the sixth form block alone one day. It wasn’t a particularly warm afternoon, and I’d been a bit stubborn by insisting I shouldn’t wear a coat. What a silly decision – I was shivering, but before long Tamara popped her head around the door, asking if I wanted to sit inside with her. I can’t remember if I accepted her offer, but there was no denying that it meant a lot to me. I thought I was insignificant, a bit of a blot on the landscape, so it was amazing to think that someone I hardly knew was noticing me. Later that year, when we went on a Christmas shopping trip, I was left on my own whilst everyone else went off in their own groups. Afterwards, I got a Facebook message from Tamara saying that if she’d known I was alone, she would have invited me to accompany her. They say it’s the thought that counts, and this was one that certainly meant a lot to me.

From there, our friendship has gone from strength to strength, and she has been one of my most trusted confidants through some very difficult times. In any case, she’s definitely someone who can restore your faith in humanity. With this post I wanted to lift her, cheer her up and make her smile as wide as possible through an uncomfortable ordeal, but the truth is that I think she’s better at doing that than I could ever be. Still, I hope this helps, and I hope you like it, Tamara – we’ll all be behind you as you get through this!

Mason

From this year onwards, I want to make “November” a byword for positivity, especially compared to November 2014, which may have been the single worst month of my life so far. Not that I’m blaming anyone else but me for that – my point is that just as I was responsible for the rotten time I had this time last year, I want to be equally as responsible for making this upcoming month better than ever.

Metaphorically speaking, the embers of last year’s fire need to be nurtured so that they can glow more like a light at the end of the tunnel. If I’m going to pull this off successfully, I need to think about why November can be a real highlight of the year. The nights are darker. Sorry if this sounds miserable, but that’s the way they’re meant to be, right? You can’t always get to sleep if there’s too much light and, apart from that, darkness means the conditions are perfect for the firework displays. Unless we went to a party or a public one, ours were often confined to the back garden, with the fireworks hastily bought from the off-licence. Even now, having seen so many low-key setups like that, I’m still mesmerised by the flashes of colour. When I was little, I never wanted any sparkler to go out. I’d let it run down as far as possible to my gloved fingers before having to dunk it in the bucket. I still can’t help looking straight at some bright lights, even if I’m told not to – weird, I know!

There are also the things that everyone loves about winter as a whole – firstly, you get to really appreciate being warm and cosy, and secondly, the Christmas period is getting ever closer. To be honest, my countdown starts from my birthday, 25 August, which is exactly four months away from the big day. I know that for a lot of people, including myself, it’s acceptable to start listening to Christmas songs not long after that. I’ve seen that people can feel festive at any time, and I think that’s really uplifting. I don’t understand why anyone would frown upon it when it makes so many others so happy. The joy is infectious, as most of us know, and when I also think about everything I’ve already explained here I see no reason why I can’t do my best to make November special in my own familiar way. Beyond that, in fact, I should look at what’s left of 2015 as a chance to prepare myself for wiping as much of the slate clean as possible in 2016, so that no sad embers need extinguishing again.

Mason

This morning, it was sunny outside. Whenever it’s like that, my mum and dad are very quick to suggest going out for some fresh air while it lasts. As we all know, however, there are days when you’re just not feeling it, and you’d rather be within the comfort of your own four walls. Today has been just like that for me. I’m on autopilot first thing in the morning, so recently I’ve been getting up and heading straight for the kettle, where I’ll make myself the strongest cup of coffee possible. I like strong coffee, I feel like it’s grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and getting me as wide awake as I’ll need to be. It’s a job done for you in an instant, but I know there’s something – or someone – else that’ll compliment it perfectly.

When lots of your friends are working, away at university or just busy in general as mine seem to be, you can miss their company more than ever. A void appears that not much can fill, and when that happens all the shit that comes with everyday life can weigh more heavily on your mind. I find that these situations prove just how brilliant social media is, because physical distance is obviously no obstacle. All of the people I like best are just a click away, night or day, rain or shine. Even people we only have a short time to interact with in person can be kept close by online. It works both ways – I can joke and reminisce with Will just like I always do, or I can build equally important connections with newer people. Some people say we are social media addicts – if there is any truth in that, I think it can be justified, because I think we’re just taking every last opportunity to cherish those most important to us.

Yesterday I posted a link to this blog on Facebook. One of the many people to kindly compliment it was Grace, a friend I made on the college course. She exemplifies why I’m so glad I can keep in touch with my friends, because she is relentlessly positive and her enthusiasm for what she does seems to be infectious. She’s a breath of fresh air. I told her that myself, and who wouldn’t want that in their life, from anyone? As is the case with all of my friends, we understand each other and are compatible and comfortable talking to one another. I’m thankful for all of these people, and I’d probably need another blog post to cover that fully! Instead of doing it here, then, I’ll do it individually with them whenever necessary. Grace, Will, Tamara and all of my other friends may have been even further away right now were it not for modern technology. So there you have it. Embrace what we have today – because it means nobody is ever too far away to brighten the day. Thank you Grace!

Mason

Five years ago today, on 27 October 2010 (I think), I had my first proper operation. If I remember rightly, it was to lengthen both of my hamstrings so that my legs would be less tight and learning to walk would be easier. It was a serious low point in an otherwise memorable year – I did get to go to the British Grand Prix, after all – and the six weeks that followed the procedure, with both legs in plaster, were among the worst I’ve ever had. Ironically, considering the operation was meant to increase my independence, I was totally dependent on everybody else. Even when the plaster finally came off, after what seemed like an age, nothing really got easier for quite a while. In the hospital, when my legs moved free after being stretched out in front of me for weeks, the scream I let out was one that can only be described as blood-curdling and one that even dogs could’ve heard. When I got home and settled back into normality, I was still in discomfort, and I’d also lost a fair amount of weight with the lack of movement or exercise. By this stage, Christmas was only a few weeks away, and that wouldn’t be the best time to “lose sparkle” – as someone at school put it – for anyone. My mood was rotten, and part of me really believes that that Christmas was slightly ruined because of it.

In the subsequent months, my then-normal physiotherapy at school continued to try to get me back up to strength, whilst hydrotherapy in a special pool at the hospital got my legs moving again in the comfort of the water. This must have had some benefit, but I didn’t really help myself. Five years down the line, I’m not walking and there have been no real changes as a result of the operation. I didn’t do any of the exercises I was supposed to at home, nor did I try walking on my sticks. Some might say it’s laziness, and maybe that does come into it somehow, but mainly I believe it’s down to the simple fact that if I did start walking, getting around like everybody else, it’d be a massive culture shock. Life from a wheelchair is all I’ve ever known, and I’m not sure I could deal with everything changing into something completely alien to me. This is my life, and from my chair I’ve learned to be independent in other ways. I can dress myself, make tea and toast, shower independently and get around my house. To an able-bodied person these things wouldn’t warrant a second thought, but they are achievements I am proud of. I try to act and treat others in the right way, and I’d like to think I haven’t misjudged this very often. I’m also grateful for the chance to discover new abilities from my own perspective, as a disabled person – judge me if you like, but in many ways I’m comfortable just the way I am.

Mason

Whenever I look at a finished post, two thoughts go through my mind. Firstly, I’m pleased that I’ve been able to ramble on and then publish what I’ve written with no editing, and secondly I experience disappointment at having written so badly. I’ve actually had a fair few compliments about this blog, and I often ask people to have a look so that I’ll know whether it’s worth carrying on. Of course, I appreciate all the kind words because they are encouraging, but for me personally there’s something missing from my posts.

In my opinion, there’s too much order, and not enough personality, not enough to show people that I actually do have a very good sense of humour. I blame English teachers! I want what I write to be more “indie”, to be less conventional and more quirky. In popular culture I’ve always admired what isn’t afraid to go against the norm – I have a much-loved DVD box set of surreal sitcom The Young Ones, which is unfortunately only really appreciated by me. When Dad watched it again after 30 years away he said he thought it wasn’t as funny as he remembered. I don’t know if he or Mum really understand the benefits of experimenting with things; when they saw an Absurdist Drama performance in sixth form once they thought it was nothing but a weird racket. I remember feeling a little put down by this, because from the moment we started studying Surrealism in Drama I thought it was the best thing ever. Why should anything – or anyone – make sense? If I have the power to confuse my audience, that’s exactly what I’ll do, and there’ll be many more possibilities in the process. Brilliant! Since realising that, not much of what I’ve written in private has made sense at all, and I’ve made a point of not listening to anybody who’s tried belittling it. It’s the same with music. I recently downloaded a greatest hits album by The Smiths, one of my favourite bands. There are so many contrasts – Morrissey’s soulful vocals against Johnny Marr’s pop-like riffs, both accompanied by more downbeat lyrics. Their songs are so enjoyable and so fascinating, and they are the latest things to encourage me be creative in whatever way I like, whether other people like it or not. From the next post onwards, then, I’m making a pledge to be wilder, more imaginative, and maybe unpredictable when you least expect it. Cupcake.

Mason

In my room I have a few notebooks, most of which are half-full. Every time I buy one, I tell myself that this’ll be the one reserved for the big, brilliant, earth-shattering project idea. This hasn’t quite gone to plan so far, but it’s not all bad. Some of the ideas – and I hold onto them all – are so bad they’re good, and if nothing else they raise a smile. One of the notebooks is a regular, blue, inconspicuous WHSmith number. Its more cringeworthy highlights include a soppy diary entry about not asking a past crush to prom, and I also used it as a schoolbook on occasion, probably whenever I couldn’t be bothered to get a proper one out of my bag.

On one page, there’s a short list of names I thought would be great for a band. The most notable of these, to me at least, is “Pacifist Party” (if anyone does want to use it, I want royalties). I remember thinking it could be used for making electronic music, just like Owl City – before you judge, that was the first act to pop into my head! When I look at it now, however, I see something more significant. A motto or an ethos I can try to live my life by. Let’s look at what the two words mean. A pacifist is peaceful, considerate and truthful, and these are all qualities we admire. By contrast, a party is loud, energetic, humorous, jovial and memorable. If you put them together, you can have something to aim for, and I’m glad I did that. If accusations come that are against who I am, I can defend myself whilst being safe in the knowledge that they mean nothing. I can have fun, I feel confident and relaxed at a party, but when it is required of me I can be deadly serious and highly mature.

I’d like to think that’s my default setting, and that I stick to it pretty well, but what about the qualities I want to achieve, the ones that we can put more work into? On my laptop, I have another potential band name saved. It’s just three words long, in size 11 font, and it reads “Wit and Truth”. We’ve already been over the latter, but the former is also something I’d cherish. I’ve said before that if the only thing I ever gain from life is a good wit, I’ll die a happy man, and I absolutely stand by that. It’s a lasting wish, and so that band name is as important an expression as any I’ve read before.

You can look at those two examples as band names, motivational quotes, or simply as an aid for creativity. Putting two or more words together (with a connective, obviously) can be a revelation in whatever way you want it to be. Unfortunately, though, it still hasn’t helped me get into a band yet!

Mason

When I started this blog, I was worried that I’d have to write something compelling every day, without fail. It didn’t initially occur to me that I could just leave it until I decided I had something worth saying, but thankfully that is what I have since done. What’s more, I’ve been able to recognise that even the tiniest spark of an idea is worth hanging on to, because anything is capable of flourishing into something great. This can be the case regardless of whether said idea is a creative pursuit, or something that applies specifically to your life.

Where the latter is concerned, the idea could just be a word, an expression, or a thought. As I have recently found, these things have been the seeds that have grown and allowed me to tell someone close to me just how much I care about them. Using only a miniscule snippet of information, I was able to pour my heart out, and I think that’s amazing. I expressed my appreciation for my friend Will in a previous post and I’ve now learned that the more people I can enlighten, the more I am lifted afterwards – not that I ever do these things for my own gain. I feel, quite simply, like I shouldn’t have to be nervous ever again. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out that way. At the moment I feel a degree of pressure, although I will admit that I bear this with pride.

I have another friend who, like Will, has helped and supported me through thick and thin. An important period in their own life is forthcoming, and it begins with a journey to fix a relationship. It isn’t my place to go into detail, but if this were to end badly, it would break their heart, and that would upset me considerably too. No matter how hard I try, I don’t think anything I could say would illustrate how much I want this to work out for them, because it’s the very least they deserve. And that’s where the pressure comes from. I can’t speak to them in person at this time, so I have to communicate over Facebook or text, and when I do this I want them to feel fully cared for and supported, as I hope they always do. The only problem is that even if you’re always telling someone you care, the sheer emotion won’t show through. I feel a lot of emotion in this case, too – I want my friend to be happy, content and carefree more than anything. All I can do, it seems, is clutch on to the care I feel, and tell them I’m always there as much as possible, so that they’ll be kept smiling – and safe. Thoughts and feelings, no matter how small, can go a long way if you just have faith in them.

Mason

I should probably admit that, although my enthusiasm remains undiminished, I haven’t played keyboard in a few weeks. I just haven’t had the time, although in the past this would have worried me more than it does now. I often read that it is best to practise keyboard or piano little and often, to avoid tiring yourself out. So that’s exactly what I do; it helps when you’re trying to remember what to play. Once upon a time, this would have been concerning because it sometimes feels like you aren’t progressing as a keyboardist, and you’re condemned to always be an amateur. To many, that probably sounds like a bad thing, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

I’ve said to several people in the past that I believe people are put off playing piano by classical musicians. Whilst I respect their talent immensely, I can’t help but think that seeing their fingers become a blur on the keys must be a little offputting for some. Even listening to the music that inspires me the most was intimidating whenever a piano featured in it. It fooled me into thinking that you have to be highly proficient in order to make learning any instrument worthwhile, and when I subsequently started my piano lessons I chose to learn to read music, thinking it would be beneficial. In some ways, it must be, but I’ve since realised that it’s hindered me more than it’s helped. I came to find that when sat at my keyboard I was spending more time squinting to read the notes than actually playing, and that can’t be a good thing! As a result, I’m now just using the letters of the notes or chord charts, and it’s improved my mentality towards the keyboard a great deal. I was aided further in this by the sudden realisation that you should just play whatever you want to, whether it’s complex or not – and this is good news for me, given my slight dexterity problems. It made me strive to just do whatever I can, and to always enjoy it. I was particularly inspired by Candida Doyle, keyboardist in the band Pulp. Despite suffering from rheutamoid arthritis, she has been an integral and enthusiastic part of the group for over 30 years, never letting her condition get in the way. She is a true role model.

Here she is talking to BBC News. Watch, enjoy, admire, and then play.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-28853792
Mason

This week I tried meditation for the first time, and as what I had seen before suggested it was very easy; all that’s required is a deep breath and the release of all tension in the body as you focus only on being totally calm. Some people in my class weren’t quite as enthusiastic about it as others, but I thought it was a revelation. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed, and I found this to be twice as beneficial as I now had a second solution to the considerable amount of stress life has in store for everyone.

The other has always come in the form of the things I love most, fast cars and motorsport being the biggest example. Whether it concerns this or any of my other passions, however, the ability to retreat from sadness or worries is greatly valued. If there’s something you really love, something you live and breathe, and you keep it in mind, you might be surprised by what you can cope with. It’s like a safety net, and it’ll always be there to catch you. If, like me, you’re not much good at the maths you were taught for years at school, you can take comfort in knowing that you’re an expert in whatever makes you happy, and regardless of what you might be told that’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. I feel like I’m stating the obvious, but when I panic I do tend to realise just how much time we all spend doing that. Someone told me this week that, even with all of life’s demands in mind, we should concentrate on what we enjoy more often because – after all – we only get one shot at life.

I’m writing this post whilst also doing College work, and usually I’d be told off for distracting myself, but I personally think that digression is important. It helps top up my “can do” attitude (when I have one), so in that respect it’s like medicine – sweet medicine that lovingly coats your tongue and warms your heart. I think we should all taste it as often as possible. I’m telling you right now that, if you can spare the time, you should stop the work you’re doing and indulge yourself in your interests. Have a little bit of what you fancy, and see what it could do for you.

Mason

That’s how my friend Will wanted to be referred to here. He enrols at university on 14th September, so I promised that before then I’d give him a cameo in one of my blog posts, but because I’m so considerate I’ve decided to give him a whole one instead. If you’re reading this, Will, I hope you like it.

Ever since I first met Will a few years ago, our friendship has seen many memorable moments, things he likes to refer to as “national scandals”. Whenever something happened, it always seemed big, but we always found some way to laugh, a lot (you probably had to be there). We did then and we still do now, and I’m so thankful that we appreciate the same humour. Everyone says it’s important to laugh, and I don’t think I ever laugh more than when I am in his company. He has such character, and a razor-sharp wit unlike that of anybody else I’ve ever met (seriously, the puns flow like the Thatcher’s he drinks). If he ever puts himself down, he should snap out of it, because I’ve seen with my own eyes how many people react with laughter and joy to his presence. A room is instantly energised whenever he walks in, and when that happens I am filled with anticipation for the engaging, imaginative, surreal and hilarious conversation that follows. I don’t think I’ve ever told him this, but my life would be so much darker without him. His friendship and the help he gives are very gratefully received.

We’re kindred spirits in other ways, too. We’ve often come up with many new ideas together, although our version of Doctor Who, which imagines the characters as played by members of the Cabinet, probably needs work! Unfortunately, we haven’t gotten around to setting anything in motion yet, but our media super-company should change that – I can’t wait. Every episode of Top Gear gets a thorough review from the both of us, and I’d like to think I’ve been educated in the Marvel universe at least a little bit. We’ve both learned that Hot Fuzz is probably the most quotable film ever made, and our shared love for Monty Python and the Holy Grail knows no bounds – as does our dislike of Piers Morgan. If I could summarise everything that is great about Will and our friendship, it’d probably take all day, but maybe I’ll fill you in on some more another time. Instead, I’ll give you a few nuggets of advice.

If anybody reading this is going to university in Preston shortly, and you meet Will, definitely say hello, because you’re never going to regret it. I feel like I should give you one or two pointers, though:
1. Don’t ask him what he knows about Lionel Richie, because he only knows two things about him (one being that he’s dead and the other that he’s gay). Both of those are wrong.
2. Don’t ask him what happens at the end of the classic children’s book The Tiger Who Came To Tea. No, the little girl’s head is definitely NOT bitten off by the tiger. For the record, they all go to a cafe and have a nice meal there instead.
3. Here’s one thing you SHOULD do. Ask him about the “national scandals”, and thank me later 😉
All joking aside, however, I’m going to be slightly emotional when Will goes, and I told him that myself recently. It will leave a hole, one that simply can’t be filled. When he makes friends at uni, I’m in no doubt they’ll feel the same way. Don’t get me wrong, though – he can’t get rid of me that easily. He knows I’m only a message away. There’s just one more thing – if you’re reading this, Will, I want to hear about any future national scandals, OK?

Have a safe journey my friend, and an amazing time in t’north.

Mason