Personal Blogs

All my posts: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?u=zw219551

or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' Take note of the position of the minus sign to eliminate caldwell returns or search for 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser. There is a space between my name and the minus sign and NO space before 'caldwell' to eliminate the name 'caldwell' in the Google listings

I am not on YouTube or social media

Cadwell NOT Caldwell

Laser beam Kindness

[6 minute read ] 

Opinion

Knowing me for who I am, the vicar's dog-collar I wore wasn't about to fool my friends. Well, I say friends, but this morning I am certain they are not. I had spent some time selecting which dog-collar to buy, and at least one person was skeptical as to whether it really had any legs.

       'It's quite yellow.' said one. I agreed and thought it also cheap and tacky.

Last night, I met up with some acquaintances, a rowdy bunch. One or two jeered me for the vicar get-up but I felt I should present myself as not being fertile ground for mischief or wrong-doing, such as I know the rest of them are.

It was a morning dream, rudely shattered by I know not what. I can guess, but it would only be a guess; one with significant weight of belief behind it, but still only a guess.

When I was sixteen, I dreamt that I awoke and in my bedroom I made out two semi-opaque figures facing one another. There was a question in the air, 'You need to choose. What will you choose?' I suppose there can never be a question as finite as 'Do you choose to be good or evil?' since there is a small element of evil in everyone and vice-versa. Yeah, I know, the truly evil person surely cannot save a kitten from starvation, right? The answer is wholly outside of my bailiwick of comprehension. 

I didn't ponder for long; I was sixteen and just like how a lot of cartoons portrayed teenagers way back when, the only thing that resembled any conviction of intent or might volunteer for comprehension was the singular, 'I dunno.' Hence, the answer I gave was 'I can't answer that right now. Let's wait and see.' I have been chased by that indecision for all the days following. I don't mean I plan to be bad or make people miserable; I mean, in trying to be good, I suppose without the support I would have received if I had made the right decision back then while still malleable, I recognise my badness. I don't steal or beat people up, and I am pretty certain I don't lie anymore. Yet, I think by being remiss in 'giving' in some ways (which I still don't seem to have fathomed yet), there are fissures in my wall of determined kindness.

In the dream, meeting with long-standing acquaintances whom I know are just representations of real people, in the real world who live next door to us and love their families and so on, and deliberately wearing a vicar's dog-collar during that meeting, for me meant that I was re-taking my vows to try not to be open to making mischief and deceit; a decision I made some years ago after recognising my 'bad'.

Not being open to being 'bad' is one thing. Yet, it means I am only neutral in all things emotional; which, of course, I largely am. I make efforts to be generous; and it is always with effort. I have to decide to be generous; shall I buy some art stuff to leave outside for the neighbours to take? Gladly, though, I embrace the idea as soon as I make the question. 'Of course!' How can I not? If the question arises it is because I can be generous; I am in a good position and, selfishly, I know it will not noticeably impact on my life in any negative fashion beyond having the carry the stuff. Except, It does negatively affect me. I possess the items until they are taken from outside my home so I guard them against free-loaders. I suppose that means I have created a scenario in which my kindness should be received in only the way I intended without recognising that the bed in which I have sown the seeds of generosity may need me to stop tending it for a while. Stop weeding and manicuring, if you will.

       'Children, come here. You may only feel my love in the way I give it. You may not reinterpret it in any way. If you find you are loving and kind because I love you, you must not be kind and thoughtful to others, unless you ask me first. I gave the love to you but I still own it, okay? And by the way, if I give you a gift you must use it only in the way the manufacturer intended. Understand?'

The freeloaders I despise may indeed take all the items because they really need a couple of quid for food and they may, in my mind unlikely, trade the cheap art supplies for a couple of metaphorical meat-pies or something.

Perhaps the book I lent my sister, which I hadn't fully read, was lent out of a desire to help her and when I was annoyed that she lent it to someone else to help them I was bad. I was bad because I placed a condition on my 'generosity', one which we might all expect from lending something; to whit, you get it back. I failed to recognise that my sister gained more than I intended from the book. Not only did she read the words and grew from them; she also contributed to the strength of her friendship with someone elsewhere. I suppose at that time, had I recognised it, I would have resented that. 'I haven't finished reading the book! You was supposed to give it back! You have disrespected my 'generosity'!'

Yup, that's about it. That is a black mark on my character. Even today, it is hard to establish a firm footing on exactly where I am on lending something out and then someone beyond the person I lent it to getting the benefit of it. I didn't aim for them. My kindness is a laser-beam and should not be shared! If it is diffused it might become so weak that it becomes insignificant. However, it will, I hope, find its way into a pool of kindness that everyone can bathe in, even if I don't know their names.

Religious people have their own very different scripts; doctrine that is so far from this that there can never be any comparison. 'Love because I love you!' Their beliefs grant them something they believe is an absolute, and perhaps it is. I shall not disparage anyone's beliefs, but neither will I plagiarise religion and call the good bits my own. Life lived with others takes effort, understanding and respect. If you will: I want the Open University to just give me bullet points of information because it is speedier for me, but the OU wants me to understand the information by working through it. My efforts to build on any comparison between my wants and the Open University's focus are so ineffective that it leaves me only frustrated. I am compelled to do as the Open University commands otherwise I am not worthy of merit. Bit of a dichotomous turn-around, don't you think? I want doctrine and absolutes in my Arts and Humanities studies, yet it is anathema to me in the real emotional and social world I need to be in.

My intent was not for my views to be taken up as banners to support or portray how religion may be useful, desirable or necessary, yet I must abide by my own drive. I should recognise that my views should not come with any conditions and they might be used to love or hate in equal measure, in far places and in many futures.

If you want to write on this subject, 'vicarious love and kindness', which is not my own invention, and you want to use any of the points I have made in this blog to support your take on it or argue against, then you should cite and reference accordingly. Since this is a blog post and is on the Open University server, of which I have no control, be sure to include the date you accessed it.

Cite this:

Cadwell, M (2026), in 'Laser beam Kindness', The Open University Personal Blogs (online). available at: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/editpost.php?blog=1&post=354959&referurl=https%3A%2F%2Flearn1.open.ac.uk%2Fmod%2Foublog%2Fview.php%3Fuser%3D852553%26amp%3Btaglimit%3D500%26page%3D0

All my posts: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?u=zw219551

or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' Take note of the position of the minus sign to eliminate caldwell returns or search for 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser.

I am not on YouTube or social media

[ 8 minute read ]

You do not want that

Apparently, John Cleese told Prince William, at the Tusk Conservation Awards at London's Savoy Hotel last night, that 'Fawlty Towers' is about 'who is chasing whom.' I never realised that, yet of course it is. The best hand-drawn cartoons for children are all about one character chasing another, especially Tom and Jerry. Prince William, I believe had told John Cleese's that his kids love Fawlty Towers; when I think about it, they would. It is a kid's cartoon using real people; lampooning using a series of chase sequences, often in parallel. 

I am interested in, and like, writing and rarely plan writing anything; relying solely on my creativity (which has been a little lax recently). I like to, if I ever set myself a remit, gather a few mildly obscure words and then just start writing. Such complexity as Fawlty Towers, or even any skit is absolutely beyond just chucking some words at a VDU and seeing what sticks. I have a writing itch and I also have an idea gleaned from outside the OU that makes me just want to spend all the hours I have creating a form derived from the combination of chase and my own idea of a format, one that I have yet to encounter outside of my head.

This isn't it.

 anguish - regret

I was in one of the local Post Office shops a few days ago and allowed a couple of people to go before me. I do anyway when I have a lengthy Post Office transaction to do. However, this time it was different:

Every now and again, I run through my head, scenes of my life, to manually see if I could have done better. (Be careful if you do this because you can end up disgruntled with your life if you do not put in future effort to ameliorate your considered inadequacies).

Like everyone else, I am naturally kind; it is a survival thing, you know, like in a herd I will scratch your back if you scratch mine. However, I am, like everyone else capable of ignoring the needs of strangers. Yeah, I don't like that much. Years ago, I decided that I had to wrestle with myself to beat out of me any deliberate unkindness and especially vicarious meanness. It would be foolish of me to call myself the winner simply because I recognised my faults and wept for others; because I cheated them or ignored their needs or just plain lied and set them on the wrong path; or at least re-inforced an idea that the path they were on was the correct one.

       'Yeah, good idea, leave school and get some experience, I did.'

       'It's okay to lie, everyone does.'

       'Don't worry about them; they can look after themselves'.

A couple of years ago, I was in ALDI and next in the queue. In front of me was a woman who had just had a few items put through the scanner and was struggling to pay for them. I noticed that she mostly had copper coins. She didn't have enough. I had hundreds of pounds (GBP) in  my pocket which i was not about to spend within the next week or so.

       'Excuse me checkout assistant, I will pay for them.'

I offered cash. (I actually should have asked the customer if she would allow me to - but I addressed this a couple of years later, elsewhere with someone else)

The woman customer was surprised, 'Are you sure?' Of course I was; it was less than 5 GBP. The checkout assistant took the money and I said, 'Give the change to the lady.' It was maybe a couple of quid. She thanked me and we went our separate ways. Job done right? No.

A few days ago, idle and lying in bed thinking about getting up, I slipped into review mode, seemingly accidentally. I had been watching videos on kindness the night before though. I remembered the woman paying with coppers in ALDI. Oh no! I realise it was nowhere near enough to just pay for a few items when someone is paying with small denomination coins. Let's extend it a bit:

       She just wanted to pick up a few things as one does and I needlessly paid (except she wasn't buying luxuries)

       She spent all her money on liquid or other recreation for herself

       All the household money had been spent on liquid or other recreation that she did not partake in

       She lives alone and just ran out of food and money.

The list could go on endlessly with as many nuances as we might imagine. However, there are two more extensions that are important:

       She gets more money tomorrow (back then)

       She doesn't get more money tomorrow (back then)

It is only these two that are relevant. If she or others drank all the money the money has gone (it doesn't matter how)

Any help I could have given her back then, or anyone today cannot change the past; it only affects the future. There is no present because it has already gone before we can pause it.

Back then, with hundreds of spare pounds in my pocket, have kindly insisted on taking her around ALDI again to shop for the things she really wanted to buy but could not. I should have given her a basket and carried on myself. She would have, of course, and hopefully, been reluctant to spend my money and would have desired things but not put them in her basket. I, on the other hand should have put into my basket the things she looked at for a moment. I should have asked if she had children and I should have then chosen a few treats. Everything in our baskets I should have then paid for. A few years ago it wouldn't have been more than thirty or forty pounds GBP, or so. 

A few days ago, I wished I could have done it; I truly did. I got up and made some coffee. I would have to do better than I did then, when another situation arises.

I was in one of the local Post Office shops a few days ago and allowed a couple of people to go before me. I do anyway, when I have a lengthy Post Office transaction to do. However, this time it was different.

An elderly man came in with a parcel and he was the second person i let before me.

       'I would like to sent this parcel please.'

He was given the prices for first and second class delivery service.

       'Oh, I don't have enough.'

The second class price was less than three British pounds. I felt an overwhelming shove from my conscience. Bingo! I have cash on me! Hmm...parcel...late November...elderly person (unlikely to be an ebay seller)...Christmas present!

This time, I remembered to be polite. 'I wonder, sir, if you might accept an early Christmas present from a stranger.' With that, I placed five British pounds on top of his parcel, which was the price for First Class delivery.

He prevaricated for a whil, and there was that to-ing and fro-ing that goes on in our minds as to whether to accept or not. He accepted, and then bought second class delivery service for his parcel. He then tried to give me the change. Thinking about that, I could have taken offence at him returning half a Christmas present - joke. He explained to me that it was indeed a Christmas present and because it is fragile he was sending it early, in case it broke, so there would still be time to replace it. I don't really understand the logic behind that. 

And then it happened; but it was dampened to nothing. I had to explain why it was necessary for me to pay for his parcel; not in longhand of course but more as, 'For you, if you do not send the parcel it is a problem and you will be worried about how you can resolve it. For me it is a dozen eggs that I shall not eat in the future.  I am not going to worry if I have no eggs to eat. I won't see it as a problem.' I forgot? or just wasn't compelled to take him round the Post Office shop or ask him if he was hungry. I like to think I am a spiritual person and I was not feeling that I should feed him. He left, and the shopkeeper told me that he wished that everyone thinks like me. Oh no you don't, I thought, Oh no, you don't.

I am broken. You really don't want that!