Tadhg On The Road To Norfolk: Awareness & Expectations

20190701 TADHG ON THE ROAD TO NORFOLK 1

I’m deep in the countryside of Norfolk now, having driven here earlier today, and the scenery is magnificent. As the sun slips below the western horizon the sky changes colour in the distance, the air is cooling, and a slight, refreshing breeze – hardly detectable, but it’s there – can be felt upon my face.

Solitude.

Anywhere, away from the hustle and bustle of regular life, can be a place of deep awareness and peace, of solitude, and enable us to go deep, and deeper still. And, Norfolk, where I am now, is just such a place. Of course, even in the city, there are parks and other places of quiet, and even in part of your home, a time and place can be sent aside to centre yourself and go inward on that imaginable journey of solitude. You don’t have to travel to remote places to enjoy it.

But, sometimes, and you will know the occasions, sometimes some extra ‘effort’ is need to do the ‘nothing’ of awareness and solitude by relocating for a while.

The air temperature is dropping now. After a hot, windless day, and a barmy evening, the temperature drop and slight breeze is most welcome, most refreshing. It’s getting dark, and darker still.

‘The best thinking has been done in solitude’. Thomas Edison

I’m alone. And yet, surrounded by the wildness and wilderness, the wild things of Norfolk. A bird, maybe a crow, cries out and flies off into the distance. There is foraging in the nearby under growth, but I can’t see the animal, but can see the trajectory it takes as plants rustle and move as it moves from me.

Solitude. Awareness.What did I expect? There is a school of thought that says that if you don‘t expect anything, and nothing happens, then you won’t be disappointed. Others, might say we should expect for them we’ll look, and in looking we will find. But, it depends on your aim, your purpose at that moment in time, and right now ‘no thing’ apart from solitude is sought.

Here are a few thoughts about the awareness of solitude and experiences, or expectations as I sit here, having finished my meditation. They are:

– solitude, as opposed to being lonely, is about choice and awareness. To be lonely is to feel bereft of support and company. With solitude, one has chosen authentic solitude – but at the back of your mind, and after that act of solitude, you know, just know that you we’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, elementals, some call them angels, or the Companion encouraging you onwards, invisibly, impalpably.

– solitude can bring about deep peace, even joy. Happiness or not may depend on external influences, but joy is very much a decision, lifestyle, a way of being which is firmly in your grasp. As I sit here, all the ‘challenges’ of the day melt away. However, there are other ‘avenues’ that may be open to you as great works of art and music can have the same joyful effect.

’Hildegard viewed music as the key to opening a third state of consciousness, a trance-like strate’ HeathyHildegard.com

– solitude can enable you to gain an insight into your fundamental values, goals, your unique strengths and weaknesses.

– solitude can create a clear perception of what is important in our lives, what to expect, what not to expect and how to deal with events when expectations are thwarted. Remember, there is always tomorrow.

It’s now quite cool, and to any casual observer I have been sitting here for an hour and nothing has seemingly happened. But it has. My aim was solitude, and the purpose was meditation.  Anything else is a bonus.

But, at one fundamental level here, and where you are right now, great movements have taken place, perhaps unaware to all of us.

“I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing…Silence…Waves…

Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?”

(Juan Ramón Jiménez)*

Tomorrow, another day, and I will have different expectations. Tomorrow I perform a land healing ritual in Norfolk and I’m looking forward to that, and the following day I meet up with a dear friend and his wife. Would you believe that I haven’t seen this friend since I was twelve years old – some fifty two years ago. Time flies.

I’m now back in the little cottage I’m staying in, in Norfolk. As I sit here with a hot cup of milky Ovaltine and boyhood memories come flooding back, I realise that great expectations can come to us sometimes disguised as quite small and insignificant occurrences. Treasure those times, and revel in those times when nothing seems to happen – perhaps, then, we really are standing in the new life!

 

* [Apologies for not earlier accrediting the poem to Juan Ramón Jiménez. Now corrected]

 

Inner Journey: Transformation 101: The Map Is Not The Territory

20190629 INNER JOURNEY 101 THE MAP IS NOT THE TERRITORY

As a wee lad I used to love to wander off, with friends or by myself. I really loved maps, and when I was a little older and able to use a map and a compass, I was off on further boyhood adventures, albeit only for a few hours.

On one occasion, given a pencil and paper by my grandmother I was off exploring the immediate local countryside of Capel Curig, making notes and sketches as I trekked over ‘manicured’ lawns, jumped noisily over the rivulet that marked the garden boundary and trekked boldly into fairly dense forest. On that map-making journey of adventure, it became clear that I had to decide on the scale of the map and would have to decide what to include or not. Somethings I included, somethings I excluded. Big things I included, and smaller trees etc I excluded as I didn’t have a big enough sheet of paper, and if I’m honest what was left off was, sometimes, quite arbitrary.

Later that day, I showed the map to my grandmother, and although she was very encouraging, it was clear that, as I explained the map, I had left off an awful lot of detail either by design or because I hadn’t noticed it. The map was only partially useful.

‘To journey without being changed is to be a nomad’

As an adult I am an amateur astronomer with a huge telescope, inspired by my Dad who, when I was a wee lad, bought me my first telescope. To me, then, it was huge, but in comparison to the one I have now it was small. But, to a small boy it was an awesome size and opened up the universe to me. And, it set me off on another child-orientated project, of a stellar kind. Assisted by a planisphere, a star chart, I was commencing yet another journey of adventure.

My first use of the simplified star chart was a lesson in ‘economics’! I could see more stars with the naked eye, and many more through the telescope that night, than were depicted on the star chart. My Dad was encouraging and explained that the start chart was like a ‘road map’ for the stars, and would only assist if bright stars were included and others omitted. Too much detail would render this and any map useless. The map was essentially an ‘outline’.

‘To change without journeying is to be a chameleon’

As an adult I still love maps – global positioning satellite maps for their functionality are wonderful, but oh, give me a paper map that I can fold, feel, smell, and hear as it crunches and bends as the wind catches it.

But, I now use maps differently to when I was a child.

Then I would avidly look at the map and ‘fit’ the world around me into it. I was so intent on looking at the map, hand-drawn by me, purchased Ordnance Survey maps or gifted star charts, that I missed much of what was going on around me, missed much of the wonder of nature.

Now, I gaze at nature, the countryside or the heavens, and then use a map to confirm what I’m looking at, or to pick out some feature on the map and find it in real life and aim for that. The map is now secondary.

I’ve learned that ‘the map is not the territory.’

Odd then, that as grown-ups so many of us use maps of different kinds, such as philosophy books, prayer books, ancient sacred texts, liturgy etc, and then gaze at the world around us. Our primary focus seems to be elsewhere, when our primary focus should be on nature and others, on life itself, with a gaze, then, afterwards, at the philosophy books, prayer books etc. Ofcourse, the latter are important, but too much gazing at them alone may mean we’re missing out on what on going on around us. They are ‘pointers’ to reality or a greater reality.  ‘Why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They don’t toil, neither do they spin.’ [Matthew 6:28). Max Lucado rightly says that, ‘Nature is God’s first missionary’.

‘To Journey and be transformed by the journey is to be a pilgrim’.

(This, and indented quotes above by Mark Nepo, ‘ Seven Thousand Ways To Listen: Staying Close To What Is Sacred)

We can be so busy on the intricacies of the journey, so focussed on the map, that we miss much of the journey of life and transformation itself. For instance, we can be so ‘involved’ in planning and doing (performing) a ritual that we can miss its deep meaning. Ofcourse, planning and doing it well are good, but if perfection ‘distances’ from the deep meaning, the inner journey of transformation, then we’ve missed out.

Our spiritual journey rightly involves outward activities, sacraments, rituals, liturgies, but focus too much on them, and though we might do them perfectly and even have praise heaped upon us by others, one wonders about the corresponding inner journey of transformation.

‘As above, so below’, it has been said. Others speak of an inner/outer congruency. It seems we need both: outer activity and inner transformation. ‘Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ (Romans 12:2a, The Book).

‘Change is inevitable, but transformation is by conscious choice.’ Heather Ash Amara

And, yet, that transformation may be lacking, or delayed, or stalled! You can see that sometimes when someone says one thing but does another, or seems outwardly spiritual in their actions but inwardly is materialistic or immature by what they say. None of us like to admit that, and our ego rebels against such a notion, but if its tries to ignore the challenge (and it will be true for some, and perhaps true for al of us at sometime in our life) then we miss out even more on that inner transformation. Better to name it, and work for change.

‘Transformation isn’t a future event. It’s a present day activity.’ Jillian Michaels

On our spiritual adventure of a lifetime, maps of all kinds may assist, but they are not the territory, or as Alfred Korzybski said, ‘The (spoken) word is not the thing. Perhaps their role is to point out the need for transformation and to give hints about it, but it is up to us to do it – to be transformed (bit by bit. It’s continual).

Mark Nepo mentions something similar to this, and concludes with an exercise – see below:

– Centre yourself and without judgement bring to mind a time that you refused to let your experience change you. [Resistance].Simply feel that time’s presence.

– As you breathe, bring to mind a time that you changed yourself to please or avoid another. [Distancing]. Again, simply feel that time’s presence.

– As you soften, bring to mind a time that you journeyed forth and were changed by the journey. [Surrender]. Feel this time’s presence.

– Without judgment, give thanks [Gratitude] by accepting all of this. Give thanks for being human.

‘The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.’ Albert Einstein

Ofcourse, all this begs the questions: what is transformation, how is started, how is it completed, what are transformational ‘tools’, what are the benefits of transformation to the individual and the world? Yes, there’s more (which will appear here over the next few weeks).

 

Looking Afresh At What We Take For Granted: Clouds (2/2)

20190624 LOOKING AFRESH AT WHAT WE TAKE FOR GRANTED CLOUDS 2

How we perceive clouds, when we stop and stare, pause and look up depends on our intensity, or mood, our worldview.

For some the cloud they see might only be a combination of water billowed along by barometric pressure, for others there might be a recognition that that type of cloud heralds a storm, for others it may be a portent of a future event, for others it might initiate something deep inside. Whatever it does, clouds have a certain mystery about them, and hold a wisdom from which we can learn if we are open to that natural awareness like the Ancients were.

‘Never lose hope. The darkest clouds precede the loveliest rain!’ Avijeet Das

Last time [see here] we looked at low level and mid-level clouds, and now we consider those above that level.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

At about 7000 feet to 23000 feet are altostratus clouds – mid-level layers of thin, featureless grey cloud. Usually thin enough to reveal the position of the sun, and sometimes the moon at night, and because these diffuse clouds may contain ice crystals you might also see a halo, a coloured ‘corona’ around the sun or moon in the clouds.

Laying on my back, aged six years (and so, some years ago), at home in Capel Curig, with friends and gazing at the sky, and spying a halo around the sun we would make a wish. I would like to say that the wishes were lofty and noble, but we were only young and on the few occasions we saw those halos we would wish for (more) sweets, a tree-house or new bicycles. Typical children. Happy days.

‘Ring around the Moon, Rain Real Soon’. Anon

cloud b BrockenspecterWith that kind of diffuse cloud in mind, it is worth mentioning the Brocken Spectre. Sometimes called Brocken bow or mountain spectre, this is the magnified (and apparently enormous) shadow of an observer cast upon clouds opposite of the Sun’s direction. The projection is often surrounded by the halo-like rings of coloured light.

The phenomenon can appear on any misty mountainside or cloud bank, but the frequent fogs and low-altitude accessibility of the Brocken, a peak in the Harz Mountains in Germany, have created a local legend from which the phenomenon draws its name. The Brocken spectre mentioned by Johann Silberschlag in 1780.

‘The colour has faded out of the sky. It is grey, becoming darker as the world turns herself round a little more. The clouds are long and black and ragged, like the wings of storm battered dragons.’ Keri Hulme

If you’re thinking of thick grey clouds that bring heavy rain, hail or snow, then look no furtheNimbostratus virga. Bearbeitung: Unscharf maskieren auf HS_V_, Weiche Kanten.r than nimbostratus clouds which reach altitudes of 2000 feet to 18000 feet. These are the clouds that you might see in the distance and actually see the rain failing as a thin, diaphanous ‘curtain’.

The word ‘Nimbo’ comes from the Latin word nimbus, which denotes precipitation. And, whilst on the origin of words – and you know how I love myth – nephos is Greek meaning “cloud”. In Greek legend Nephele was created from a cloud by Zeus, who shaped the cloud to look like Hera in order to trick Ixion, a mortal who desired her.

‘Clouds are just nature’s stepping stones to the heavens.’ Anthony T Hincks

clouds 33 untitledLeaving the mid-level clouds behind we look at those high level clouds, the first of which are cirrus clouds. The clouds ‘reside’ at altitudes of between 17000 and 45000 feet. These clouds are usually detached from each other, and appear as patches or bands of cloud. These are fast-moving clouds, buffeted by high winds – think of aircraft turbulence; but because they can be so high, as anything far away, the ‘illusion’ is that they are slow moving. But, this isn’t the case.

clouds 4 Cirrocumulus_clouds_Thousand_Oaks_July_2010If there are to be any clouds about on a summer’s day, then the lofty cirrocumulus clouds at 17000 feet to 45000 feet are the ones that will delight. These clouds are high and are really tiny ‘cloudlets’, regularly spaced, and maybe with a ‘rippled’ effect. Cirrocumulus clouds tend to reflect the red and yellow colours during a sunset and sunrise, and so they have often been referred to as “one of the most beautiful clouds”. This occurs because they reflect the unscattered rays of light from the early morning or evening sun.

‘Clouds are on top for a reason. They float so high because they refuse to carry any burden!’ Jasleen Kaur Gumber

clouds 5 cirrostrat 240px-Clouds_CH7Finally, in our brief look at clouds, the ‘high-flyers’ are cirrostratus clouds, ‘floating’ above 20000 feet. These can often be referred to as ‘the clouds that aren’t really there’, as they can cover hundreds of square miles, but can be so ‘thin’, so high and so subtle that they’re often overlooked by earth-bound observers.

Hopefully, this and the previous article has (re)kindled your love of the nature of clouds, and further your knowledge, wisdom and awareness (of them).

‘A parade of clouds
and little puffs behind them
they follow as their Mother’.

Julia Hartwig, Spojrzenie

Clouds, I would suggest are not just to be seen as objects to be scientifically analysed (though there is nothing wrong with that), but also to be understood as part of weather-lore, and something more – that they might trigger a deeper spirituality of awe in you, and yes, for some, to be seen as wonderful objects that give us some other-worldly wisdom, and/or entertain us for hours as we gaze at their majesty and changing shapes. Was that a whale? A television? An angel?

Next time you see a cloud (and it’s safe to do so), why not pause, and when you can, let me know what you ‘saw’, and if it had a deeper meaning to you. Perhaps it’s a ‘message’ from the Great Cloud-Giver? Happy cloud-spotting!

 

20190624 LOOKING AFRESH AT WHAT WE TAKE FOR GRANTED CLOUDS 2

 

 

Ephemera: June’s Full Moon. The Moon Of Horses

20190615 EPHEMERA MOON OF HORSES JUNE 2019

The next full moon is almost upon us, and you know how I love the full moon. There is something mystical, ‘magical’ and calming about the Moon as it brightens and glides higher into the sky. No wonder the ancients paid particular attention to the Moon and each month it ushered in. This one will be in its fullness on Monday, 17 June 2019, in the constellation of Sagittarius, low in the south-southern-eastern sky in the northern hemisphere.

Some will know this full moon as the Strawberry moon, to me and the ancient and latter-day Celts and Druids it is the Moon of Horses, to Wiccans many call is the Dyad Moon, and the Chinese people call it the Lotus Moon. In the southern hemisphere where the seasons are switched this full moon is known as the Oak Moon, Cold Moon, or the Long Night’s Moon.

The moon is a silver pin-head vast, that holds the heaven’s tent-hangings fast. -William R. Alger, ‘The Use of the Moon’

The moon was so important to ancient cultures, and even so today to those who understand, or revere nature and the old ways. But, whatever name you call it, the full moon is a time for celebration: perhaps by walking in the light of the full moon (and have you ever seen your moon-shadow?) and pondering its awesomeness, raising a glass of wine to its glory, meditating on the Moon-Giver, or reciting liturgy or a poem in its honour.

Here’ such a poem I wrote some time ago:

Arianrhod in all her splendour, moves by an invisible hand
and wanders companionless, like a silver wheel in the sky. She ascends.
This full moon’s lucid beam dominates the now darkened canopy, and
there, in her smiling face, we find sweet, unbridled understanding.
She befriends.

Her ‘lesser light’ moves across the sky above the city, grey.
Oh, robed in splendour, her surge of silver-light fills every window pane
and skips across rooftops, trees, streams, fairy fires, and silent railway,
and falls unbeknown on those who sleep now, and refreshment regain.
A blessing.

Arianrhod, spill your beauty on a thousand Earthly races,
on happy flowers that bloom in a myriad of hues,
on laughing, smiling, sad and all up-looked faces,
who, in wilding spaces, drink your wine of sweet, bless’d fallen dew.
A gracious infilling.

And paled now is her light,
as onward she moves lower in the sky. For the sun, opportune.
But, for now, dear Arianrhod reigns with love. She is mistress of the night.
A timely witness sent by the Truth who is beyond the Moon.
A glorious remembrance.

The ancients loved their stories (and perhaps we still do, but do so through going to the cinema, watching a movie on tv), and here’s a few mythical and magical stories from ancient times, though not notably Celtic or Druid in essence but still entertaining and through-provoking, about the moon.

There is a very interesting Chinese myth about this woman who was said to live on the moon. There are several variations of the myth but the essential story is that she and her husband were once immortal beings but were made mortal because of their extremely bad behaviour. They then attempted to regain immortality through the use of a pill but Chang’e became greedy and took too much of the it, and ended up floating up to the moon where she remained stuck over time. She is the subject of much Chinese poetry and is one of the central reasons for celebration each Autumn during the Chinese Moon Festival.

‘We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side.’ Kahlil Gibran

A much happier couple-based mythological story about the moon comes from Africa. It says that Mawu is a moon god who is forever linked in unity with the sun goddess Liza. It is believed that lunar and solar eclipses are related to the lovemaking times of this celestial couple. This myth is clearly about the power of the moon, the sun, the sky and love and desire.

Selene and Luna are the names of the Moon Goddess in Greek and Roman mythology respectively. In these myths associated with these goddesses, the goddess is paired with the god of the sun. He travels throughout the day and she takes over the journey at night. She is typically considered to be a passionate goddess who takes many lovers and who represents the desire associated with the moon.

‘The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished.’ Ming-Dao Deng, Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony.

Wishing you and yours the blessings of the Moon-Giver at the time of this full moon, Tadhg

 

 

Life, An Ever-Widening Circle Of Discovery

20190606 LIFE AN EVER WIDENING CIRCLE OF DISCOVERY

There was a time, as a very wee lad in Capel Curig, when I believed I was so brave and knowledgeable. I could navigate the distance between my grandmother’s house at the small stream at the furthest boundary of her garden. And, there it was, a rivulet I called ‘Bach ac yn gyflym’ [see here]. It means ‘small and fast’. Very apt. Very Welsh.

I thought of that watery boundary as almost the end of the world, and indeed it was then the end of my known world. And, such is a child’s imagination that I imagined that beyond it lay a wild place, full of dangerous animals, and half expected a lion to stroll by.

You’ll be pleased to know that as I grew up little by little, and so my boundaries changed, and widened. Some time later I ventured to step over the rivulet, and with my friends I ‘discovered’ Y Goeden Mellt [see here], a place to play together. This was our name for a most unusual, lone tree in a clearing, which seemingly had an ominous presence. It means ‘the lightning tree’, as we knew then that lone trees had an increased chance of being struck by lightning.

I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.

And, ever outward, as a young explorer I strode even further into the Welsh countryside, and I and my friends then spent considerable time, still children, playing around a tree that seemingly was two trees that grew apart and then arched back to form a ‘door’. Yes, as children, with vivid imaginations we saw this as the door to other words, and named it Drws-i-fyd-arall [see here], the ‘door to another world’. Oh, the fun we had there.

As I grew so my knowledge of geography, boundaries and perception changed. My circle of geographical ‘comfortableness’ widened. I like the idea of the metaphor here of the circle – ancient Christians, Pagans, Druids and other cultures revered or understood the circle to be a representation of the eternal, immortality, the never-ending journey, a ‘finger’ pointing to the Mystery, and more.

And, so my boundaries widened, perhaps almost imperceptibly, until one day I reflected upon how I thought as a child I was knowledgeable and brave, but actually how limited I was. However, I would never disparaged that younger version of me even  in my memory – we all have to start somewhere – but now I can see clearly (as that old song says).

But, my views today are different to then, and one would expect that. Fast-forward to the present, and very recently I found myself at the Festival of Mind, Body & Spirit (Wellbeing) Festival in London, where my new views came to the fore.

The Festival is a wonderful kaleidoscope of peoples and philosophies, a cacophony of rhythm and sound, bright lights, and a myriad of vying energies, and yes, to be honest, a rather large dose of money-orientated materialism – but it gets everywhere.

But, I love the Festival.

I had a long talk with a guy who held a Bible close. We talked, we laughed, we agreed on much, and yes, disagreed on a few things. We looked at verses in the Book and he interpreted them one way – the way I might have twenty years ago – and I shared how another (maybe a better) interpretation existed. I would like to share with you that he accepted my interpretation without question, but he didn’t.

I may not complete this last one
but I will give myself to it.

Oh, how I wished that, when I was his age, someone would have come up to me with a new, different and challenging interpretation, less materialistic view of the Book to ‘open my eyes’. As we concluded our discussion – and it was all very pleasant and cordial – I really wished, inwardly, that I was able to write to my younger self what I know now, and that his future self was doing the same for him, now.

And, now here’s the irony. I’m Tadhg Jonathan (and I’m happy for people to use one or both names, whichever is easiest), and as I wished him all the best and said, ‘I’m Tadhg Jonathan, and by the way, you are….?’, he replied, ‘Jonathan’!

As I walked away it struck me. In speaking to the guy with the same name as me, with similar views I held some twenty years ago, even if we  wrote a letter to our younger self (or our future self wrote to us today), would we  accept the content of that letter, or would the knowledge or wisdom contained therein be too odd, bizarre or unsettling for us? I don’t think I would have? Would you?

Life is a mystery that slowly unfolds. A series of enlarging boundaries. What I knew twenty years ago is different to what I know now, and I’m hoping it is the same for you. Because we move toward the edge of our current boundary filled with new ideas of knowledge and wisdom, only to see a further boundary of knowledge and wisdom in the distance urging us ever forward. We then realise that we may know more than twenty years ago, but at the next boundary we will look back at ourselves knowing we really  only knew in part, and so it goes on and on and on.

It’s a never-ending journey, and perhaps each step of the way we’re given what is sufficient to us to spur us onward, and in some cases that knowledge, wisdom or experience is for us and no one else?

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I’ve been circling for thousands of years

Perhaps the great mission we each have is to support those around us on their journey, realising that events in their life will, inevitably, be different from ours. ‘You cannot put an old head on new shoulders’, so the saying goes. Perhaps, then, our work (or part of it)  is to ‘travel’ with those around us on their journey, encouraging them to experience things for themselves, realising that they will appreciate the assistance of encouragement, as we do from those further along the journey than us. Because, in the end, there are many things we don’t know. ‘…to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of mine, even the least of them, you did it to me.’ (Matthew 25.40b, The Book).

and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?

There is a time, and for me it’s now (and it may be the same for you), when I realise that I know a lot, and the ‘biggest’ thing I know is that I, and you, have only just started out on our never-ending cosmic adventure, our journey to get ‘back home’, and for that we need each other because there is so much we don’t know. And as we peer into the distance, there, just there, can you see it, is another boundary urging us ever onward.

 

[The indented words, a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke]

 

Become The Duet [Revisited]: Hearing That Ancient Voice…

20190529 BECOME THE DUET REVISITED

There is an interesting line of thinking that says that the Source of All is always communicating with us through a myriad of ways, if we only paused long enough to take notice.

Sometimes communication from the Source of All (perhaps via an angel, an elemental, the elements etc) can be heard through anothers’ words; or witnessed in a kindly act; read in written form; experienced in an activity or art, dream, music or thought; observed in nature, and in many other ways.

Throughout the ages the Ancients were adept at hearing The Source of All in nature and other ways. Modern-day understanding, it seems, leaves little room, and current working practices leave little time to ‘hear’, sadly. Even in our prayers, lists may be recited, but we leave little room for a reply! And, what if we got a reply?

‘Then God answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said…’, Job 38.1, The Book

‘Bom-di bom-di, bom’, a friend says whenever it goes quiet.

‘Bom-di bom-di, bom’, fills up a gap quite nicely, but it seems to me to be a form of self-defence. I’m walking in a forest and a friend engages in talking about the increase in his stocks and shares. We undertake a type of silent meditation and some find themselves becoming restless and need to hum.

Could it be that all these are forms of self-defence?

The ‘bom-di bom-di bom’ sounds and other activities draw us away from ‘the moment’ and fill our world with a cacophony of noise and thought, and ‘insulate’ us against hearing, witnessing, reading, experiencing or observing the communication to us from the Source of All?

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
(W H Davies)

I do believe much of our busy-ness is a form of self-defence.

If we were to pause, we might understand the Source of All’s communication, however it ‘arrives’, but then it may require a reply – from us a word, us writing something or doing something, and that can feel quite traumatic, weird as others look on who have successfully ‘drowned out’ the Voice and wonder what you’re up to, unnerving, unsettling, demanding perhaps.

But, also what a privilege?

A privilege to receive a message From Beyond, and a privilege to respond. Some have likened this to a dance, others to a two-part harmony! Yes, you get to participate in that dance or song, whichever metaphor you choose. Two-way action!

Duets are not about individual skill, but about the relationship between the two players. (Daisy Goodwin)

I often find that inner Voice ‘speaking’ to me in solitude, in a forest, in deserted places that are devoid of people but full of life. There, I can revel in the ‘moment’, and would suggest that you do the same.

Sometime ago I wrote:

If we were to travel from the wild, ruggedness of Capel Curig,
near the foothills of Yr Wyddfa,
that place of green, of open-space, of dragons, myth and power;
Myrddin’s lair.

If we were to travel to the busy-ness of Old London,
that place of the ancient river of the Celts,
of crowded streets, of neon lights, Druid-energy and oh-so many people,
the Voice can be heard.

If we were to pause,
wherever we are, just for one moment,
to revel in life that is happening around us, to us, in us, through us,
we would hear the Voice.

Distractions come,
and a distancing from all that is natural seems to happen.
But, only seemingly, so.

The Voice that spoke creation into being,
thunders in the wilderness, whispers in built-up places,
but speaks, still.

The Voice can be heard, if….
…if we have ears to hear.

If we would but listen to the music of our life,
our body would sway in time to the primal beat of times of old.

If we would but gaze at beauty around us,
our mind would laugh crazily with delight at the colours seen.

If we would but ponder, and feel deep within our soul
the love-song of the Friend,
then we would know the reason why we are here:
Become the duet.

 

Ritual: Body Prayer: Getting Started

20190522 RITUAL BODY PRAYER GETTING STARTED

I am, as you know, fascinated by liturgy and ritual. I use ritual a lot, value it, and would encourage you to try it, too. Experiment. Adapt. Be playful.

Ritual is, for me, a powerful and physical action, an enacted metaphor that can aid us. Here’s an outline of what ritual or right action can do, an account of an intriguing event in Capel Curig in north Wales some time ago, and some examples of body-physical movements you might like to try in your ritual, prayer-times, meditation etc. Here’s an opportunity to add deep meaning to what we do.

There is power in words. With a word all that is visible and invisible was made by the Maker Unmade. With our words we can encourage someone to new heights, and yes, with an unkind word we can destroy.

There is, indeed power in words. But what of actions? The common maxim is: actions speak louder than words. This is true, too!

Orthopraxy is one of my favourite words. Orthopraxy is all about how someone acts. Right action as opposed to right belief. And, its actions, particularly regarding ritual action that I believe is most beneficial to us.

Orthopraxy in ritual actions can physically demonstrate our passion and intentionality to ourselves, to others, to the Source of All. Our actions can denote a request, a blessing, an intention, or declare adoration. They inform, invite or dismiss, and maybe reinforce our words.

I saw a photograph in the newspaper of a president. There was no caption. A caption was unnecessary. The picture showed that is was pouring with rain – the kind that would soak anyone within seconds. And, there was the president with his wife in a rainstorm. He carried the umbrella and ensured his wife was the one to remain dry. He got soaked. No caption or words were needed. The picture exuded love. Right action.

Perhaps, it’s right action at the right time. What is appropriate one moment, maybe not be so the next moment. Awareness is needed.

Sometime ago I wrote: A warm feeling enveloped me. Palpable. And not only an external feeling, but internal too, pervading my whole being. And then, as has happened albeit infrequently in this place in the past, I heard the Voice once again. Some will say that it’s only imagination, but I can only say, to me, it was and is, more, oh much more.

From an interrupted, shallow sleep I awoke early, and walked into the night, as if called by a Voice deep within. An elemental? The Awen, An ancestor? The Deity, An angel? The Bat kohl, my imagination?

There is a story in an ancient text of a major battle, the battle of Rephidim. It is a short account of an unprovoked attack against Moses’ people. Fighting ensued and lasted all day. While Moses raised both his arms aloft, perhaps to encourage his people or perhaps in supplication, it was noticed that his people got the advantage over their enemy. When his hands dropped, the opposition gained the upper hand in the battle. Moses raised his arms, and once again his people prevailed. But, what about when tiredness got the better of him? No one can hold their arms aloft for any great length of time, and before long Moses’ arms began to feel the strain. As his arms became tired and started to drop Hur and Aaron placed themselves either side of him, and gave his arms the support they needed. No other words needed. Right action.

Perhaps, in ritual, our right actions are akin to charged physical metaphors that have a far greater effect behind the Veil that we can yet imagine? Metaphors always relate to something other (or Other).

One night, about three years ago, I woke up from a shallow sleep and went for a walk to this place, and this is what I wrote:

The air was cold and damp, the darkness seemed to envelope me, the trees ‘closed in’, and all was quiet. Nothing stirred. Nothing at all. And with some trepidation, into a forest clearing I slowly strode. A fallen tree provided a seat, and I sat, and waited.

The air felt ‘electric’ as though something would happen, like a ‘silent storm’ approaching. And I waited. And shivered. Waited. And got damp. Waited. And then from within, or without, almost undetectable, a quiet, loving, voice was heard. The Voice.

Rituals remove us from the ordinary flow of life and place us in sacred space. It’s for that reason that some might, say, light a candle at the beginning of a service or at home, or at the beginning of a prayer or time of meditation. Right action. This is a significant action for it declares our moving out of the realm of ordinary space and time and into sacred space and time. Action within rituals create their ‘magic’ and have their power through the mysterious and mystical vocabulary of symbolic re-enactment. Symbolic action either ‘allows’ things to happen or puts us in the right frame of mind to ‘see’ them and appreciate them. At the end of the service, mediation or individual prayer-time the candle flame is usually extinguished and we return to physical space (although the astute will know there is no real dualistic division). Right action.

Slowly, unhurriedly, powerfully, the Voice said:

“As above, so below,
there are things you should know.”

And so, I mention,
with your hands at your side, walk humbly,
take seven half-steps forward, it’s a journey of intention.”

“And now, raise your hands in simple ‘surrender’,
and point both to Heaven, that domain of awesome splendour.”

“Widen your arms, and so scoop, and harvest
pure energy, pure ‘gold’, and be prepared to be feel blessed.”

“Draw in that power, by folding your arms like an ‘x’ on your chest,
and feel its benefits, its warmth; you’re at peace, at one, ‘at home’, at rest.”

“Then stretch forth your arms, and mould with your hands
as if a ball, that ‘globe-like’ power-blessing from the ouranic meadowlands.”

“With one foot leading, and with knees part bent,
sway back and forth, in preparation for that ‘goodness’ to be sent.”

“In your mind, name the loved-one, the recipient, the friend,
and in your heart, see them, imagine them, to that end.”

“‘Push’ with your hands, that power-blessing from you to them,
and sigh the sound of the ages, the ‘so be it’, the ‘amen’.”

“And then, your hands drop to your side,
power has gone out; but there is no lack,
for the power-blessing that went forth, also comes back,
in another way and at another time, and so you, too, are blessed.”

Having done everything as directed, I stood there in awe. The air was cold and yet I felt warm, the night so dark but in my mind’s eye it seemed to glow. The Voice had gone. The Voice? An elemental? The Awen, An ancestor? The Deity, An angel? The Bat kohl, my imagination?

Ofcourse, there is no right or wrong way to use ritualistic action. It’s intentionality that counts.

But, I would encourage you to incorporate and/or adapt physical action into any ritual you do. This can involve the whole body, as above, or part. It’s also enjoyable and may make the ritual, prayer or special time even more meaningful.

The following is an outline – consider it like a dictionary or vocabulary of hand-signs for ritual – to encourage you to use them, adapt them or to form your own. Here’s three:

Acceptance: In the early stage of any group or solo event I need to ‘open up’, to accept power from Beyond. And so, with one hand I form an ‘acceptance’ hand: My elbow is bent at right-angles and one hand is in front of my chest, maybe about 9 inches away from my chest. The palm of my hand is upright, and fingers and thumb gently parted. I ready to catch ‘it’. Accompanied by a few words asking for energy and power from Beyond, out loud and prayerfully, I move my hand towards my chest, so that the palm of my hand ends up against my chest. Power sought by that open hand, symbolically, then accepted, and then indwelling.

Aid someone: With a person’s name in mind, an area in need, or a request for the Source of All to aid a part of the world in need, I bring that hand away from my chest, but only just. I ensure the palm is, again, upright. My other hand forms a fist and lays on that open-palmed hand so that the fist-hand  lays on it (so that the veiny back on the hand is facing up). Then, saying out loud the request, I move both hands, still together, away from my body about a foot. It’s as though a gift is on a plate and both move towards the one needing aid. The prayer request is symbolically ‘delivered’.

Thankfulness: It seems right to give gratitude to the Great Giver. With your fingers together, touch your chin with the fingertips (of perhaps the longest finger or two) of one hand. Let them remain there for a second or two (or three), and then bring your hand down, slowly, to naturally arc through the air, to stop in front of your chest so that your arm is at right-angles. That’s being thankful.

The abovementioned is the start of a ‘ritual vocabulary’. These three are from the Dictionary of British Sign Language. But, there is no reason why you shouldn’t make your own. Please let me know how it works for you.

 

[Any] Power [You Have Comes To You From Far beyond]

20190507 ANY POWER YOU HAVE COMES TO YOU FROM FAR BEYOND

There was a time, when I was a wee lad, when I would go to Llyn Tegid (also known in English as Bala Lake, in north Wales) and just spend the whole day in the area: walk around part of its shores, climb a little ( as much as a child dare climb) and swim in its icy cold waters, or just sit and be mesmerised by the light shimmering on the water’s surface, and then, later, walk back to my grandmother’s cottage.

And, so on that occasion, and this is some years ago at the age of seven years, I squatted along the shore of Llyn Tegid and prodded a small rock pool, which had formed – cut off from the rest of the lake, prodding it with a twig. Although a lake, rock pools often formed at its edge, especially when the wind gusted down the valley from the mountains in one direction, and waves had a chance to build up and lap at its shoreline.

As I poked various parts of the rock pool, I could see the huge amount of pond-like life it contained, insects and plants in abundance. And, the messier and slimier the twig became the more I, as a small child, revelled in the fun I was having.

Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.  Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

The words of my grandmother echoed the ‘short distance’ from the evening before, of how life is all around us, even when we couldn’t see it. As a young boy, it sparked my interest in nature and then, as I prodded parts of the rock pool, it excited my interest in insects and anything crawling in that microcosm of the world.

Other Elder words replayed in my mind: that everything contains energy, and, is energy. As a small child my understanding of that was limited, but as I scraped the earth by the side of the rock pool and the lake, and gouged out a trough for the lake’s ‘fresh’ water to gradually enter the rock pool, energy flowed via the water, where moments it did not. As a young boy I could understand that, especially as ripples of water entered the hitherto rather stagnant water of the rock pool.

Ofcourse, my attention span was limited, then (but, it has improved since), and I soon took to wandering around the lake, keeping a wary eye out for ‘Teggie’. In Scotland, Loch Ness has ‘Nessie’, the Loch Ness Monster, but here in north Wales – and it must be true as it was also one of my grandmother’s stories – we had’ Teggie, the Llyn Tegid monster, who it was said was able to eat a sheep in just one gulp.

That was then.

And, I’m in that place once again.

Now, sitting by another small rock formation on the shore of Llyn Tegid, many years later and somewhat older – can you believe, some fifty five years later – I’m gazing into a rock pool not unlike the one I prodded as a wee lad.

Gazing into it, it still fascinates me. Life, and life in abundance, what I can see and what I take by faith as much of it is invisible to me. The whole of Wales – and, indeed, the entire planet, cries out ‘life, life, life!’.

And what of energy?

Yes, even as an adult, now, I couldn’t resist finding a twig, gouging a trough in the earth to let the lake’s water enter this newly-found somewhat stagnant rock pool. Ripples, energy, minute ‘waves’ poured into the once-still rockpool, and it flowed.

‘I define subtle energies as movements in a sea of life and consciousness.’ David Spangler, ‘Working With Subtle Energies’

And, the words of my grandmother echoed the ‘longer distance’, from over the many years and took on a deeper meaning. Energy should flow.

Just as it flowed in this rock pool I am now gazing at, so it should flow in our lives, body, mind, spirit, our life’s events, local communities and beyond. Energy becomes stagnant when it doesn’t flow, but positive things happen when it does flow.

Now, taking hold of my grandmother’s words I could understand more so;  that when energy is stagnant within our bodies an imbalance occurs, and the result is unhealthy, When our mind’s are stuck in old habits and unhealthy thinking and we can’t, or won’t move on, then negative thoughts take hold. We see the outcome of that in the way many treat the Earth. And, who cannot but ‘see’ the un-healthiness in our politics as politicians cling to ‘yesterdays’ formulas and don’t move on.  Energy that is stagnant causes problems at various ‘levels’; energy that flows produces beneficial results.

‘If it’s not flowing out of you, it’s probably because you’re not allowing it to flow toward you. Love can flow toward you in every moment: through a flower, in a grain of sand, in a wisp of cloud, in any one person whom you allow to delight you. You might be experiencing this flow of love when you find yourself smiling at things for no apparent reason.’ Richard Rohr

Ofcourse, some may disagree with my understanding about energy, and some may see all this merely as an analogy or metaphor only – but it seems to ‘work’, and as science advances my grandmother’s words seem more ‘orthodox’ and scientific as time passes. Energy to be useful, beneficial, wholesome and productive, is like the water now entering the rock pool I’m looking at, but it needs to move.

When it flows out, other energy replaces it. When we bless, a loving form of energy, we receive energy and are similarly blessed; and many believe that we receive even more energy and blessing. Give that energy away to others (in what we do for them in acts of helps, in words of encouragement, in what we think, pray for them, and in bless them), and to nature, too, and we obtain even more.

Hoarding that energy, as if we want to jealously guard what we have, just in case replenishment ceases, leads to a stagnancy. But, as we give that energy away, it is always (more than) replenished, others benefit, nature benefits, and we benefit too. A win-win situation.

“If you send out goodness from yourself, or if you share that which is happy or good within you, it will all come back to you multiplied ten thousand times. In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have.” John O’Donohue, ‘Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom’

Energy, my grandmother said to me all those years ago, must flow.

Now, back in my cottage at Capel Curig , years later, I ponder on her words. Ah, the Caim – that wonderful (en)circling ritual of power and blessing that we’ve mentioned in the past. How does this flowing energy ‘sit’ with the Caim. In the ritual of the Caim we ‘stand’ and invoke energy from Above, and gladly direct it to people and places in need. Yes, energy flows when we invoke the Source of All when using the Caim and others and/or nature are blessed, and so are we. What we give out, comes back.

“Who touched Me?” Jesus asked. But they all denied it. “Master,” said Peter, “the people are crowding and pressing against You.” But Jesus declared, “Someone touched Me, for I know that power has gone out from Me.”. Luke 8.45-46, The Book.

‘Mae mwy’, as my grandmother used to say – there is more! How can we use that energy, deal with stagnancy, get it moving, invoke power from Above, bless others and nature, how can we empower ourselves and mature (more so), and what is our energetic mission on Earth? And, what is energy? Is it just bland electrons or a spiritual equivalent? Something that can be reduced to an equation and codified? Or, is it alive? Food for thought there, and those words just beg to be ‘unpacked’ over the weeks ahead.

 

Beltane: Fire And ‘An Geadh-Glas’, The Wild Goose: Some Thoughts

20190427 FIRE AND AN GEADH-GLAS THE WILD GOOSE

Beltane, that most wonderful time of the year and awesome festival, is almost upon us.

At Beltane, we open ourselves to the Source of All, and give thanks for youth, vitality, new life, fecundity and empowerment. Summer is here.

We too are remnants of the First Fire that ever since lights the heavens as well as the tiny fires that warm our brief lives. Our planet remembers this original heat deep within its core, as we do in our fashion.’ Peter London in ‘Drawing Closer To Nature.

It is the time of new beginnings. However old we are, this time of the year makes us feel young again, and at Beltane many will jump over the fires of vitality and youth and allow that life-force to enliven and heal them. Others. May, symbolically, use a candle, but nonetheless take part in that joyful celebration in groups and by themselves.

Commonly held on 1 May (or the closest Saturday or Sunday), it’s called ‘Calen Mai’ in Wales, that us, the ‘first day of May’.

Beltane is a fire festival.

And, for some, it is an opportunity to rekindle the Beltane bonfire ritual. This ritual goes back to early Ireland when the community would light a giant bonfire during the event and share burning logs with which to light their home. Similarly in Germany, during Beltane, German Pagans and others celebrate Walpurgisnacht, when a giant bonfire is lit, and celebrations take place much like May Day: dancing, ritual, bonfires, maypole dancing, drinking mead. Beltane is a good time for hand-fasting.

‘The day will come when after we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for…. [the Source of All]… the energies of love. Then for the second time in history of the world [humankind[ will have discovered fire’. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

I like to link Beltane with Pentecost Sunday (or Whitsunday), 9 June 2019. The New beginnings, empowerment, new hope, and fire of Beltane naturally lead onto my love of Pentecost Sunday.

There, some two thousand years ago a small group of rather insecure and confused men and women met in secret. Huddled together, afraid for their lives, this timid, disparate group would have all but disappeared into obscurity, except for an outpouring.

Suddenly the room, where that group had assembled, was ablaze with light and the noise of a mighty wind filled the place. Fire descended from heaven, we are told, and alighted on each person. To many, this was the birth of the early church is all its innocence and simplicity. It was certainly the start, a new beginning, a time of new hope and empowerment for this group and what followed, and the fiery metaphor could not be missed.

Yes, Pentecost Sunday is the Church’s very own fire festival.

It’s a time when we open ourselves to the Source of All, and give thanks for new life and new hope, for vitality, fecundity and empowerment. Whatever is the animating force of the universe – present in us and every living creature, and in water, wind, earth/rock and fire – this Living force was made manifest on that first Pentecost Sunday and continues to pervade all, today.

Abba (Father) Lot came to Abba Joseph (two desert monks) and said, ‘Father, according as I am able, I keep my little rule, and my little fast, my prayer, meditation, and contemplative silence, and according as I am able, I strive to cleanse my heart of thoughts: now what should I so?

The elder [monk]  rose up early and stretched out his hands to heaven, and his fingers became like ten lamps of fire. He said, ‘Why not become fire?’

The Church refers to this Force as the Holy Spirit. One other occasion this Spirit was said to descend like and dove, and literalist artists over the centuries have pained it as an actual dove. But, it’s a metaphor. Why, to the ancient Christian Celts the Spirit, this Personal, animating Force was known as ‘an geadh-glas’, the wild goose (or grey goose).

I once heard a sermon that had me ‘curling up’ with fremdschämen. [Fremdschämen is German term which describes the process of being vicariously embarrassed by someone else, especially when that other person is unaware that they have just embarrassed themselves]. I was embarrassed for the minister as he declared that those simple Celts had no awareness of a dove but knew all about wild geese in those windswept northern islands of Britain. Oh, how he had missed the point, I thought. It’s easy for us all to do that – as we gaze back at historical events wearing  ‘twenty-first spectacles’ it’s easy to assume and ‘get the wrong end of the stick’.

My feeling of fremdschämen sprung from the fact that those ancient Celts knew about doves, and knew about wild geese, and wanted to change the metaphor to something they could see daily in their environment, something they could relate to, and be reminded of as they went about their business. ‘An geadh-glas’, the wild goose, to them was a wonderful metaphor for this animating Personal Life force – wild, flying wherever it wanted, strong and powerful, and full of surprises. A wild goose ‘fitted the bill’ wonderfully in that environment. These ancients knew much more than we give them credit for.

Stole NEW IMG_3202

The Wild Goose Stole

And so, in some Churches, at this time, you will see walls and tables festooned with the colour red (red for fire, a fire festival), bedecked with dove symbolism, and in some, yes, in a few you will see ‘an geadh-glas’, the wild goose (animating Life-Force). And, it’s at this time – and you know I love ritual and symbolism – that I will enjoy wearing the red, ‘an geadh-glas’, the wild goose stole at some rituals and services at this time. Though it’s quite versatile and can be worn at other events and festivals. [As regards the stole, think of it as a (clerical) scarf where the two ends drape at the front of your body].

Wearing the wild goose stole, then, is an opportunity to remind people, graphically, metaphorically, as they look on (and a reminder to me, too), that this is a fire festival, and the wild goose is a metaphor for the embodiment of new life, new hope and new beginning, of Life itself.

And, this, very neatly brings us back to Beltane, that wonderful fire festival of empowerment.

May you and those whom you love have a wonderfully rich Beltane and/or Pentecost Sunday fire festival and celebration, and be blessed with new starts, new beginnings and empowered by the Fire-Giver, the Source of All, Tadhg.

20190427 FIRE AND AN GEADH-GLAS THE WILD GOOSE

Divine Essence Ablaze…

20190404 DIVINE ESSENCE ABLAZE
I’m in London. You know I love to walk, and like nothing better than to hike in the great outdoors and go there regularly to re-charge my ‘batteries’, and to ‘escape’ the city. I love to explore, to go new places, and love the wilderness, especially.

But, I am the first to admit that, wherever we are, rural or urban landscape included, we can be energised and commune with nature, encounter the Source of All, and learn some invaluable lessons wherever we are. True, there may be some reasons to take a break from our routine and head to the countryside once in a while, but today wasn’t one of them for me.

I’m in London, and still liking to walk, sauntering whenever I can, and I had time to go for a gentle walk along Bishops Park, and then to Parson’s Green, and then along the river Thames.

Oh, the weather, you ask? The weather was changeable from one hour to the next – rain, cold, then dry and sunny and warm, then cloudy and windy. But, this is Britain.  Today, however, I revelled in nature around me, and within, and listened. And share this with you, for what happens here in this city, happens wherever you are, albeit in different ways, of that I’m sure.

From its winter’s sleep, Spring has finally arrived and new life is here. In everything.

The creative act was not consigned just to Genesis, but it happens each year – which is why as a Christo-Druid or Druidic-Christian I love to look deeper into nature, and the seasons and the calendar that marks out the seasons, and liturgy and ritual that accompany them, not in a religious, ‘fuddy-duddy’ way, not by a rote way of commemorating them, but in a lively, appreciative, life-affirming, joyous way – it’s the promise of seasons from the Life-Giver that is so affirming that encourages me to mark the time. It happens ever year, indeed in different ways it can happen everyday day and every moment, in nature, in nature in the city, and in you and I, depending on what we’re focussing on.

‘I, the highest and fiery power, have kindled every spark of life…I, the fiery life of divine essence, blaze in the beauty of the fields…’

Yes, spring is in the air. The local council, here in Fulham, London (UK) have ‘secretly’ and wonderfully planted fifty-two thousand daffodil bulbs around the borough – in local parks, commons, green areas along some streets – and they are blooming. [See the header photograph: Part of Parson’s Green, Fulham]

Many parts of this inner city borough are now awash with the green and yellow of daffodils standing to attention, and swaying gently in the wind. And, it’s marvellous to behold. In my mind I skipped through the ones on Parson’s Green as I saw them – but you’ll be pleased to know that, physically, I restrained myself just to gaze and be ‘mesmerised’ by them (but it’s intentionality that is most important!), but it was a lovely thought. It was an awesome sight.

The sun shone unhindered by clouds today, well at least for a couple of hours, but this is Britain. Nevertheless, when the sun shone, its brilliance hit the surface of water of the River Thames and a million stars twinkled back, winking on the water’s surface.

We take it for granted. Water. Perhaps there is a river near where you live that you can visit and just gaze at? Where there is water, there is life. It is suspected that there is water on Mars, and maybe there is life there – microbial, perhaps, they think?

Water means life. And, Hildegard of Bingen (one of my favourite mystics, a German Benedictine abbess, writer, composer, philosopher, and visionary, AD1098 – 1179), reminds us that it is not just earthly life that is found in the water, but Life itself.

Yes,  the Source of All is ‘reflected’ in the waters. Not just the water of a river, but water itself, the very same water that flows through your home’s faucet/tap, that you drink or bathe in.

…'[I] am aflame beyond the beauty of the meadows, I gleam in the waters, and I burn in the sun, moon, and stars. With every breeze, as with invisible life that contains everything, I awaken everything to life. The air lives by turning green and being in bloom. The waters flow as if they were alive….’

That Which Is Bigger Than Us is ubiquitous. My walk took me across Wandsworth Bridge. I like baseball caps and in the summer they keep the sun off my ‘thinning’ pate, but today discovered a drawback. The centre of the bridge, ‘open’ to the breeze that blows along the River Thames, means that it can get quite windy and catch the ‘bill’ of the cap and had the potential to lift it off. And so, with cap in hand I had to laugh. The wind gusted at times and quite took my breath away. Invigorating wasn’t the word. Ah, the Source of All is in fire, water, rock beneath me and, I detected, in the air, in the wind, today, also.

‘I am also Reason, having the wind of the sounding Word by which all things were created, and I breathe in them all…’

The Life-Giver’s breath flows through everything. If you want to know if a person is alive, check for breath. Isn’t that what we’re told? But, that relates to earthly life.

On my walk today, Hldegards words whispered in my mind. None die (that is none are annihilated) her words reverberated deep within me, as she echoed words given to her. Imbued with life, we, as is everything else, cannot die. Many think that the opposite to life is death. There is no death. Change yes, but we do not die. Eckhart Tolle said, ‘Life has no opposite. The opposite of death is birth. Life is eternal.’

‘…so that none may die…’

I’m now in my London place, its now raining and the temperature is dropping a little, again, and I’m thankful for central heating. Yes, I’m still in London, have had my batteries ‘re-charged’, have encountered nature (even) in the city, listened deeply and learned a thing or two on my walk, and would encourage you to be open to Life itself, wherever you are.

‘…because I am Life…’ [This, and all indented quotes above are the words of Hildegard of Bingen, speaking about the Life-Giver].