Yesterday I returned from a well earned holiday. (Well, a holiday anyway...)
One of my favourite films is Chicken Run. A Boxing Day is never quite the same without it. When the lead chicken has been found trying to escape he is thrown in to solitary confinement to the horror and shared concern of the other chickens on the farm.
"Has he gone on holiday?" innocently asked one of the mothering chickens, as she looked over her knitting needles and thread.
"Nooo, Babs, he's gone into solitary confinement!" responded an extremely concerned comrade, her eyes filled with the fear of the unknown.
"Well," commented Babs, the pace of her needles remaining unaffected by the news, "It's nice to get a bit of time to yourself."
I've always thought Babs was absolutely right. Whether it's forced as it was in the poor chicken's case, or it was chosen as it was in mine, time to yourself oppresses you with nothing other than freedom itself. It's not very often I am unable to get to a newspaper or computer, but in this last week I have been, and it has forced me to think about the reasons I do what I do, and say what I say.
I heard about Wendy's resignation the day I left, and only learnt of Nichol Stephen's departure yesterday, and having had a week with no politics to worry about, I really don't mind.
There's no doubt that Wendy was unfairly forced to resign, but what has emerged from this mud, which is now crystal clear, is that the politics of politics have for too long been drowning our Parliament and public interest and debate.
I have lost interest. I struggle to care enough about what's happening in Holyrood. I care about poverty, justice, the third world, climate change, equality, and I can't remember the last time any of these issues were part of my day, part of my thoughts or part of my political concerns or realistic aims. Our party's been on the back-foot for too long now to remember the reasons we were here. And that's not completely our fault. It's a little, but not all.
It was just last week while visiting the Normandy beaches to fuel some of my deep interest in history, my Dad and I stumbled across one of the greatest places I have ever visited. The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial was simply awesome, and I can't remember the last time I truly meant that word.
The white crosses and St David stars (for the Jewish fallen soldiers) are arranged in such a way so they are in lines and perfect rows from every angle you look at them. Officers and Privates lie side by side, and for those whose nameless bodies were found, the engraving reads, 'Here rests in honored glory, a comrade in arms, known but to God'. Behind the stunning coliseum stands a curved wall covered with names of those people whose bodies were never found. However, on the Western side of the memorial colonnade lies an inscription of President General Eisenhower, 'To these we owe the high resolve that the cause for which they died shall live'.
The time to myself was important, especially this summer, as it became increasingly clear that none of this difficult our party faces really matters. It is not a time of problems, but a time of opportunity. Because through all this, our values and the ideologies of this party should not be lost, but indeed found.
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