Losing face, saving face? As an older man, tending a garden, living a relatively simple life, I have the time, regardless of health issues, to muse and ponder, educate perhaps enlighten myself.
It’s a changing landscape, internal, external.
Being able to say ‘Sorry’, to know exactly what the issue is and where the fault is mine, to make amends as best I can, is a freedom.
How can I know myself without the rigorous honesty that political leaders can ill afford.
How difficult then, as a government rather than as a human being, to admit a mistake, a ‘Sorry, we were wrong.’ Hmm – never hear it. Would be refreshing rather than be seen as a sign of weakness.
I’m in the Autumn of my life, approaching Winter. The ailments of an older age manifest and will not get better.
There’s much to still interest me and when it comes to an ‘older age’ there’s a larger history which beckons – the hidden history of Britain, the country in which my childhood unfolded.
No doubt every country has a history untold or hidden. This matters.