I watched in some wonderment to the results of the Labour Party leader election results last Saturday. Could this be the sign of an emerging and long awaited sea change in the political life of this country? How can we continue with a professional class of politicians who are merely advertising industry stand-ins or cunning lawyers who are happy to swear to anything . . . and look, up pops this Corbyn guy who has been respectfully ploughing his course as a member of parliament for thirty or so years, maintaining a principled stand. Surprise surprise we (well, many of us) like him and what he is saying and voted for him.
What can he do now? What will he do now?
It seems he has already achieved a great deal. And I’m watching with excited anticipation and some trepidation.
After the first week Corbyn seems to be finding his way but there remains in me an anxiety about how on earth will he tolerate, to survive the onslaught of the right wing media blitzkrieg? I would like to fast forward a few years to see what he has managed to achieve.
Meanwhile back in the tortured flesh of real life . . . there is still some bleeding, presumably from the prostate, following the TURP op, now more than a week ago. On Monday I am due to see one of the district nurses at the surgery who will remove the catheter for another try to see if the machinery and its reflexes will cooperate in its water control functions. Alone I am finding it difficult to maintain the feeling of being on top of things. But how can I when there are these vital functions that I have no conscious control over? The nature of the body and the life that flows from its being will at some point remove from the created ‘me’ life itself. No longer allowing this me-thing its illusions of control.
Meanwhile keep up the yoga practice.