Today was ‘Public Swimming’ for the 10.30am slot at The Castle Centre, my Elephant and Castle gym and swimming pool. I wasn’t sure what Public Swimming meant but as the time suits me I booked for the session on line.

I’ve discovered that I’m all for Public Swimming chiefly because there were so few members of the public swimming. There were no lanes dividing the pool of course, just the big open pool with the life guard on duty on his high seat beside the pool.

There were just nine of us in the pool and that included two mothers with two young children. They didn’t move away from the shallow end. Then there was one woman who stayed at the side of the pool doing exercises. An elderly man squatted at the shallow end with the water up to his chin and didn’t appear to be moving at all.

That left three of us to do our customary lengths. One was slow, one medium and one fast. I was the medium swimmer!

Up to thirty people are allowed for this session. As I was leaving I passed another regular coming in for the next session, ‘Lane Swimming’.

‘You went to public swimming?’ She questioned. I had the distinct impression she was rather shocked. We serious lane swimmers swim for exercise not for fun.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘It was bliss. Just nine people in the whole pool.’

‘Only nine!’ Usually there are up to ten for each lane. And I thought, 

‘Damn. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut. There’ll be ten next Wednesday.’

Clearly it has been a thoughtless past week or ten days. And yet on Saturday last when I went to the Farmers’ Market at the Oval I did note two conversations. Well, not so much conversations as, ‘exchanges’.

There was a long queue at the vegetable stall. I don’t go to the organic vegetable stall because the vegetables there are very very expensive. I go to the less organic vegetable stall – quite expensive enough. There  was a long queue. When it was my turn I commented to the very pleasant man at the stall,

‘You’re very busy this morning.’ 

To which he replied, ‘Ah yes, but it won’t last.’

I didn’t think much about it until a few minutes later I said to a woman in another queue,

‘Beautiful morning!’ which it was.

And she responded, ‘Yes indeed, but it’s going to turn nasty later,’ which indeed it did.

We do have a tendency, I suspect, to look to the negative even when the present is positive.

On Wednesday I swam at 11.30. A change because my usual 10.30 slot has been changed to ‘Public Swimming’. I wasn’t sure what that meant but I will discover next Wednesday when I return to my 10.30 time. However last Wednesday at 11.30, lane swimming in the slow lane was most interesting.

For the first time there were no lanes. That is there were none of those ropes with floats to mark the lanes. That must have been something to do with the ‘Public Swimming’ in the previous session. 

One of my co-swimmers in the slow lane, elderly and slow, prefers to do backstroke. The lane next to the slow lane is the fast lane. I don’t know why. It became obvious that doing backstroke slowly and without a floating barrier between lanes is hazardous – mostly for the fast swimmers. The backstroke swimmer, without a barrier as guide, drifted happily diagonally across the pool almost as far as the medium lane. There was a degree of chaos and confusion. This went on throughout the session as the backstroke swimmer continued his course, and continued to drift, regardless. 

It was a morning for firsts. Also in the slow lane was a swimmer who had a cord around his neck from which hung a pouch with something in it. From time to time the swimmer would stop, mid pool, and do something with the pouch, look at it and touch it. After a bit I realised it was a waterproof mobile phone and he was sending and receiving messages while swimming, well standing, in the pool. That caused a bit of confusion as well.

I’ve sometimes accused the young, accused in my mind that is, of not being able to be separated from their mobile phones. My fellow swimmer was not young and this was the first time I’d come across a phone being used while actually in the pool.

And now it’s grey, heavily overcast and raining, altogether miserable, and the forecast for the weekend looks like more of the same. But the forecast for next weekend is for sun! 

Someone has said or written that when you travel it is the unplanned moments that give the most pleasure. That has certainly been true for me and it’s not only when you travel.

The other day, walking back through Kennington Park after church, I came across a string trio, playing. The performers were aged nine, eight and six. An adult was conducting them. I then discovered that the family of the violinist lives directly across the road from me and we keep in touch.

I haven’t been on the tube, the London Underground since Lockdown began and I’ve been pleased to discover how much I can get around, time permitting, by bus or walking. I’m glad there are still unexpected encounters above ground but I do miss some of the spontaneous happenings on the underground.

Some time ago I remember noticing, standing near the door, a young man wearing his trousers in that fashionable manner where the waist of his trousers was very far below his actual waist. I couldn’t work out what was holding the trousers up and why they didn’t fall down. A man sitting opposite me must have read my mind because as the train slowed to stop at a station and the young man moved to get off so too did the man opposite. As he passed me he said, ‘I just want to be there when it happens’.

I’d forgotten this broadcast from 2006 or, more importantly the evening I describe, until I was going through some recordings. Of course now there are no ‘high fives’ and there’s certainly no kissing.

Out for Dinner

Ever since I wrote ‘The Secret of Life’ on September 1st and came to a conclusion that it was expressed in ‘eat, drink and be merry’, I have felt a bit uncomfortable about it. It just seems so self centred. So I’ve been trying to work out, in these days of Covid restrictions, what I can do for others. I still think I must live in the present moment but while I am in the present moment it surely doesn’t have to be only about me.

Certainly I have been on one zoom meeting as a trustee of OperaGlass Works and that involves trying to help others being creative in their way. I am sure there are many charitable organisations which are managing to continue using the internet rather than face to face meeting. I enjoy having friends from church and neighbours to lunch in the garden, two at a time, and I hope they enjoy it too. Community is incredibly important to human survival, I believe.

Of course I can give donations to causes which matter to me. And I can try and support local small businesses and the farmers’ market at the Oval. I gather supermarkets and on line shopping are doing very well at the moment so I don’t have to worry too much about them.

But the big problems of people unemployed and people homeless here and of refugees and people who are victims of war or are starving elsewhere. What ca I do for them? And as I thought of these things I remembered a broadcast that I made in 2006. As I listened again to that broadcast and I, at least partly, answered my own wonderings and am back to living in the present moment.

I’ve also published this, now that I’ve been taught how to do it, under Broadcasts.

There were scaffolders then roofers here last week then, of course, scaffolders again to take down the scaffolding the roofers had needed to replace some of the roof. All was done efficiently and well. As a result of this I have reorganised the garden – well, the part in pots that is – and some of the things in the garden.

Over the years I have bought small pieces of sculpture from the City and Guilds of London Art School which is just across the road. In past years there’s been London Craft week when, amongst other activities, there’s a competition for woodcarvers and stone carvers to produce a piece of work on a declared theme within a set time frame. Its been wonderful to watch the students at work and to see the sculptures evolve.

One of the sculptures which I bought is of a seated figure. I’ve had it on the step going into the garden. It is quite clearly the figure of a street beggar. The figure looked up at me. I found it slightly disconcerting. In my reorganisation I have moved the figure to the end of the shelf under the pergola. It is quite clearly the figure of a mystic who looks up and out beyond me. I find it very peaceful. It is the same sculpture. Only the position has changed. I wonder what it will say to me when I move it next?