Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
Whenever I ask someone if they watch television, there’s always those few seconds where you can see them deciding if they should confess and share their guilty secret, or whether they should toe the party line and claim that they have one, but never switch it on (yeah…right!).
There’s a real snobbery within certain generations about admitting that you watch television, as if it somehow diminishes your intelligence or suggests that you’re lazy; unlike reading, crafting, writing, or even listening to the radio, which are all perceived as worthy occupations.
When I was a child we didn’t have a television and it wasn’t until I was about nine or 10 that my parents bought one. This wasn’t about snobbery, this was about poverty. We also didn’t have a fridge until a neighbour gifted us their old one after they’d bought a new one.
I remember constantly being envious of other children whose families owned a television, and literally sitting square-eyed enjoying programmes such as Jackanory, Blue Peter, and How when we visited.
It makes me laugh as in those days the stigma wasn’t about watching television, it was the opposite, about not owning one, rather than the snobbery of today. The thing is, there’s genuinely so much good stuff on television. I find that, even at my age, I’m constantly learning new things through this medium and does it stop me reading, writing, painting, cooking etc.? Not at all!
Though entirely atheist, I consider myself a very spiritual person and have thoroughly enjoyed each series of BBC Two’s Pilgrimage. Brought up in a Christian household, I rejected organised religion very early on. But I’ve always been deeply interested in the thoughts, beliefs, and customs of all religions and the incredible power that religion, and indeed the concept of ‘faith’, can wield over generations of people. As a historian, I’m fascinated by religion’s place in the world and its power for both good and bad – I love to learn about beliefs and cultures outside my own.
This time on the programme I learned about ‘thin spaces’; the idea of a sacred space where the veil between heaven and earth becomes more permeable, more accessible. I learned that in Celtic Christianity, a ‘thin space’ is a place where we can walk in two worlds. Fused together and knitted loosely, the two worlds become one and our connection to each is both discernable and yet somehow muted, melded together in a kind of atmospheric soup.
Immediately I loved the concept and I feel that I’ve experienced my own ‘thin spaces’ most of my life. The spaces in nature where they’re found are so awesome, so utterly breathtaking, that they’ve captured the spirits and imaginations of generation after generation through the history of time, inspiring both oral and written traditions about their existence and purpose.
As I watched the programme, I was struck by the simple power of that place (which was in north Wales). Its majestic and magnificent beauty affected each and every one of the pilgrims differently. In that moment I longed to go there. Every fibre of my being was being called to like a siren singing her irresistible song, luring me out there. How I wished that I’d seen this programme when I was still young enough, still fit enough, to have gone there for myself, so profound was the effect.
So, as I write this, I acknowledge the power of film. While sitting comfortably on my own sofa, for just a few moments I was out there on the top of that hill. Feeling the grass, soft and springy under my feet, the breeze gusting gently through my hair, the warm sun on my face. Closing my eyes, clinging to those images on my television screen for just a moment, I’m able to share their experience and feel what they feel – and I too felt my eyes well up, my heart aching ever so slightly.
The natural world has always been my church. The wonder of nature my faith and hope and, of course, the sheer, unbridled joy of dogs which have given me unconditional love, friendship, a sense of companionship, and protection. I learned early on that dogs can change lives, but I also know that grounding myself in nature of all kinds – allowing myself to swim deep within the elements – can bring me closer to my God, my Mother Earth.
As I get older, my mobility compromised (though I take myself out every day for a walk, no matter how painful, to keep myself grounded, lift my spirits, and connect to the outside world), I do miss my ability to walk miles into the countryside like I used to. To climb hills and walk through dappled forests, to paddle at the edge of the sea, or lay in a field, looking up at the stars.
That said, I find that through my television I can still be free; I can visit the animals at Longleat, learn about the beauty of the coastal paths around England, and even visit ‘thin spaces’. No, unlike many who peer down their noses at the thought, I proudly announce that ‘yes’ I do watch television. Whilst I accept there’s a lot I wouldn’t give the time of day to, there’s much to be enjoyed, much to delight in, to love, and much still to learn, no matter our age or intelligence.
Do I have my guilty pleasures as well? Of course I do! But that’s for me to know and Arthur to raise his furry eyebrows at. It’s certainly not for sharing here, lest my image is destroyed, my argument diminished, and my reputation turned to dust. I’m saying only one thing…how is it that Tori is so completely blind to Jack’s blatant misogyny?
Oops…was that a cat I heard meowing as it clambered out of the bag?
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.