Category Archives: Philosophy

Murmurings & Mystery

Posted on by
Reply

If you knew me
you would brush away my weeping
with a thousand gentle touches
as weightless as a
cooling breeze,
soft as purest light,
silent as a dark
night’s moonbeam.
If you knew me,
your heart would know
that you are my healing,
you are my sacred self,
you are the Belovéd.

8th of July 2020

Written from the inspiration of the mysterious nature of life and love.
When we think, say, or write something of tenderness, who are we truly writing this for or about? Perhaps it is about ourselves? Perhaps I am the ‘Belovéd here?
🙏

A Sip of Solitude

Posted on by
Reply

It’s 18:29 and Bank Holiday Monday in the U.K….. I’m sitting in the nook at my home – ‘Owl’s Hoot’…. it’s been warm and only now do I feel a coolish breeze flooding through the leaves around me. In the nook, I sit at the table in the presence of Tina May singing Maybe September · with possibly, Stan Sulzmann. Just gorgeous, my fellow travellers… worth checking Tina May out.. lovely Jazz singer.

I am just at the beginning of my 12th week in Lockdown. It’s such an interesting journey….. I have had moments of utter frustration, sustained times of uncontrollable sobbing, huge laughter with friends on ZOOM or Skype or any platform which is behaving itself….. I love this lockdown! I say this with apprehension as I know many people have been suffering with this virus, have lost people they love, have lost jobs and businesses…..homes, finances, food…. I have lost work, but not to the extent that many are going through…. NONE of this is funny. Not one iota of it is amusing in any way at all. I count my blessings for all that I have and the challenging things in my life, of which there have been many, I ultimately look for the good in them and explore what they might be teaching me…..(Ah…. hark!… I can hear you thinking )….. Okay, not all the time…. gimme a break…. I’m human… It’s my aim……. I shall leave it at that.

Wednesday 27th May

Speaking of being HUMAN, If I could give one piece of advice to my younger, twenty-year-old self, it would be this: ” Life is a journey of exploration – the correctness in everything, striving to be the best, to be perfect, nothing of these endeavours ever achieves what we set out to find. However, what we do discover, some of us anyway, as we crash into or out of this bewildering journey, is that we have gone the way of suffering. It’s humbling when we finally see that instead of this heartache, we could have been dwelling in the realm of loving-kindness, which accepts us, asks nothing of us ………  but to be LOVE ITSELF – just as we are.”

Just that…… nothing more, nothing less. 

fullsizeoutput_427f

‘View from the Nook: ‘The Tree Goddess’ taken May 25th 2020 

 

apple blossoms

Posted on by
1

they come in handfuls,
haaaandfuuuulsssssssss
floating through, to ground.

pink floaters like
boaters sailing on winds….. whispering:
shhiiiiiiiiiifffffvvvvvvvvviiiiiii….

she winds her hands and arms
into snaking eights
snsnsnaking sleaking shifting
as if to drag up the wind and make it sing….

apple blossoms never find their way…..
never, ever, find their way back home………
not when the insistent breath of life
has carried them off and
folded up their wings……….

Grey

Posted on by
Reply

 

img_2823

Grey…. I am not sure about this…….it’s more a pewter, but dull….

dull ……. oh…. so ….. dull…..”Dull as ditch water”, a grump riddled parent used to bark…… not about the weather, but about some creative piece I had written or drawn……

Dull – as – ditch – water………

I remember winters then. I remember snowdrifts, sledges, being pulled, but being scared, snowballs in the face ….. getting frozen toes and  jolly red cheeks…..soaking wet socks, the crisp nakedness of undisturbed fallen snow; where has it all gone?
oh, how I loved winter, then.

It’s this grey….. this grey that hangs around like a splodge of badly mixed paints, looming, ready to tip all over my world… but it never happens….. not today anyway…… it’s just grey……

Like my mood: incubating….. not dull, no…….never that.

‘Mind Lace’

Posted on by
Reply

‘Mind Lace’

I move my legs, the duvet tugs at them, not wanting to let go. Even my back feels the strain, resisting the pushing through to get out of bed.

I thought it was raining,
but through the slats of the blinds, there is sun and blue above the roof. Here, I notice my wonderful life is slipping past creating smoke trails in this gentle sky….Yet, as it goes, I make lace in my mind from the overwhelm of personal pain and tribulations of the world.

The thing about lace is that it’s delicate yet strong…. Before modern life took over, when it was allowed to be of natural materials, it was made by quiet hands.

Today I am making
~ ‘Mind Lace’ ~ new ways of dealing with the natural frailties of the Human condition – and for my own.

I am grateful and glad that Life is Beautiful every second of the day and night, at least somewhere in the world 💜

Love ~ Whole ~ Heartedly

Posted on by
Reply

We see through mists
to where we think Love bides.
Never pausing,
or sometimes even breathing.
The fear this red and luscious longing
will go out there on the wing
and not be one with us,
or attempt the Soul to Soul
deep contact thing…

Nothing comes from forcing
as forcing creates fixing
and from fixing,
not one tear can flow,
not one heart is healed,
not a single life is saved…..
and no one,
not one person
receives our abundant beautiful Heart.

Love ~ Whole ~ Heartedly

Coming in & going out.

Posted on by
Reply

Coming in
we gasp our first.
Going out
we release our last
and in between,
we live our lives
round, robust
Impassioned –
and there,
guided by a
single, inner light,
we do our soulful,
sweetest best.

In respect of Jo Cox,
Labour MP shot and killed
In her constituency Wednesday 16th June 2016
💗

Bare Bones

Posted on by
Reply

Bare Bones

 

Uncluttered and free

baggage of lost years

dissolve back to our Mother Earth.

Songs of intricate stories

held in bones where the Ancestors dwell

are aching bones,

petrifying bones,

shattered bones,

bones of courage where the weave of stories untold

gather back the fragments of our cracked open lives.

BareBones

 

Image: Bare Bones ~ Flick Cook

17th May 2016 ~ Snailwell

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wild

Posted on by
Reply
Seize the day as night comes slowly
to gather and hide the Light.
Be present in your breath for
therein lies the wisdom of your Life.
Crack wide the rigid bones of your ribs
for there, nestled within that cage,
lies the cavern of your wild and glorious Love.

The Flaming Pyre of Shame

Posted on by
3

candle-218699_640

If all we can sound are tears,
then let us weep.
If all we can say is no,
then let us shout it out.
If all we can do is weep and shout
and then walk on the other side of the road,
let us hang our heads in shame
for we are no better than the
traffickers, thieves and jingoists.

If …this ….is …so,
then let us make an altar of bracken,
lay ourselves upon it, offer up
our lives for theirs……
a body,
…. upon a flaming pyre of shame.