Poetry – Page 10 – Achilles & Aristotle

Shirty

Suckered in to fronting up
It’s my job, but it’s other people’s too
It brings admin, stress and cortisol
But also profile, contacts and stories to tell
I feel shirty
But perhaps I should get over it
Writing this has helped, a bit.

Fronting-up at big events has never been my favourite occupation. I’ve got more sanguine with age and experience, but the worst part is the uncertainty: what’s the format, how many people, who’s talking first, speech Q&A or panel.

It all takes time to bottom out and you never really know what you’re going to get until you show up. Being lumbered makes me shirty, but I probably shouldn’t be. A poem helped – a bit.

Aristotle, Ethics, Life, Odysseus, Philosophy, Poetry, Work

In Praise of ‘Prudentia’

The virtue of ‘Prudentia’
In Aquinas’s teaching,
Is ‘practical wisdom’ in
Choice and decision.

It’s a Bayesian thing,
Not just logical stages.
Which a life of experience
And virtue engages.

Grounded in reason
But felt in the boots,
You can’t teach Pudentia,
We must find our own routes

Each person’s is different,
Our wisdom’s our own.
When we try to describe it
The words struggle to form.

But don’t deconstruct it,
The details mislead.
If you try to explain it,
Confidence bleeds.

Invest in Prudentia.
Your gut’s not often wrong.
Thought, experience, emotion
In symphony belong.

I’ve spoken in praise of ‘Prudentia’ twice today. The first time was inviting someone to really use their ‘practical reason’ in designing something. That meant acknowledging complexity, personalities and what we’re trying to do – and really, based on their experience and judgement, coming up with something that has a fighting chance of working.

The second was in acknowledging and appreciating a way forward I’d not thought of. On the face of it I had ruled it out, but on reflection it had a good deal to commend it.

Not everything in life is rational, simple or binary. As someone said to me yesterday, probability is rarely 0 or 1. ‘Prudentia’ is our Bayesian gift for dealing with complexity – practical wisdom.

Life, Odysseus, Work

Caterpillar

The throbbing caterpillar in my vein
Concertinas toward my brain
Which tells me that I must be calm
Not much time for repose
Life all over me like a rash
Oh for some time to ponder,
To dream or meander, as I dash
But instead I keep on marching
Doing, fixing things
But snatched words with good comrades
Some solace brings.

When I’m busy and under pressure at work, the ‘caterpillar’ – which is a prominent artery on my forehead – sometimes comes out. It’s a bit of a standing joke, as I suggest it’s marching like a thrombosis towards my brain, shortly to bring blessed relief in an aneurism. But it’s also a warning sign. When the ‘caterpillar’ comes out I’m working myself too hard. Time for a brief pause. Friends are an important part of keeping the caterpillar at bay. Three of them, in three good humoured, thought-provoking and rich conversations, this week, helped keep me sane. I salute you Comrades.

Children, Life, Odysseus, Poetry

Our Changing Seasons

The changing seasons
of my children’s lives
Throwing and catching,
she improves before my eyes
Then rubbing together gingerbread,
her application a surprise
He seeks out phonics
and connects them into words
Three letters, four letters,
decoding as he learns.
Today is bright and colder
with leaves starting to turn
Our seasons steadily passing
It gets easier all the time
Their tiny years are over,
But, one day, I will yearn.

Life, Odysseus, Poetry, Work

Not on my bike

Memory lane
Commuter train
This one is composed of four coaches
Set of jokers

Odysseus’ suffered all the trials and tribulations of life at the hands of the gods. And he came through a better man. So I’ve opened a new poetics category in his honour. A packed commuter train is a small inconvenience compared to his quest for Ithaca, but if he were around today that’d be his lot too. The small indignities are the worst. Still the sun is shining.

P.S: The train should’ve been eight coaches. When I used to catch them, Monday morning was always dogged by me being late, trains being randomly cancelled and then the critical one arriving with four carriages instead of eight causing commuter carnage. As it was, so it still is.