The scent of freesias

It was the scent of freesias
that released my emotions and
set the tears free.

It was the beloved group of friends
who silently held my sobbing
without question or complaint.

It was the sound of the bell
that gently quietened my emotions and
allowed them to settle.

It was a weekend of loving support
that nourished me enough to
feel free to cry.

It was the memory of my Mum
provoked by the scent of freesias
that set the tears free.

It was the beloved community
who held me with gentleness and
sent me home smiling.

© 11 May 15

‘When she can’t change the world, she changes herself’

‘When she can’t change the world,
she changes herself’, recently heard on
a well-known radio soap
reflecting greater insight than
was intended or even recognised.

When we stop looking out,
stop trying to fix ‘out there’
and look in
we realise
here is the place to begin.

Yet before change
comes accepting,
accepting imperfection
in all its glorious
messy, chaotic beauty,
accepting uncertainty
despite wanting to hold on
to knowing,
accepting mistakes
not as horrible blunders
to be swept under the rug and forgotten
but magnificent chances
to learn something of ourselves and
our ways of operating.

Change comes when we embrace
our rough edges,
inappropriate behaviour
foolishness and
then let go.

Sometimes they let go of us
as if bored by a lack of attention.
Sometimes we let go of them
because the light of embracing
reveals nothing more than
insubstantial dust.
Sometimes we are forced to let go
by immense tragedy
that seems unbearable, insurmountable
yet one day no longer
causes the waves of grief and loss
it once did.

Accept
let go
then
change can organically happen
as we see the little lives
we have forced ourselves into
no longer fit,
the small boxes
we tried to shape ourselves into
are not human shaped
are not shaped for an
immense being willing to change.
© 20 May 15

Paradox by Gunilla Norris

I have recently been introduced to a meditation teacher from America called Gunilla Norris, and her beautiful book Inviting Silence. It is a really inspiring book that leads one through the aspects of meditation in terms of recognising the need to seek and embrace silence, establishing a regular practice and sitting with others.
Here's one really insightful piece called Paradox.

It is a paradox that we encounter so much internal noise
when we first try to sit in silence.

It is a paradox that experiencing pain releases pain.

It is a paradox that keeping still can lead us
so fully into life and being.

Our minds do not like paradoxes.  We want things
To be clear, so we can maintain our illusions of safety.
Certainty breeds tremendous smugness.

We each possess a deeper level of being, however,
which loves paradox.  It knows that summer is already
growing like a seed in the depth of winter. It knows
that the moment we are born, we begin to die. It knows
that all of life shimmers, in shades of becoming--
that shadow and light are always together,
the visible mingled with the invisible.

When we sit in stillness we are profoundly active.
Keeping silent, we hear the roar of existence.
Through our willingness to be the one we are,
We become one with everything.

Gunilla Norris

Shifting clouds

A dull heavy greyness
of clouds above
reflects a dull heavy
feeling within
a feeling I am wishing away
not embracing,
injecting energy into
wanting it to be gone.

In the way I cannot
physically move clouds
I cannot shift this feeling
of dissatisfaction
by wishing it away.

I want …
I want …
I want it to be gone.
I don’t want to look
at where it comes from
what gave it birth.
I just want rid!

Penning these emotions
I realise how ridiculous they sound
a sullen toddler
stamping its foot and
making unrealistic demands.

Then the clouds break
large globular raindrops
smash onto my windscreen,
break through the heaviness
provide relief.

On the horizon
a vibrant blue skyline
penetrates the cloudy blanket.
Emotions are the shifting clouds
sometimes dull and heavy
sometimes vibrant and energetic
never permanent.
© 19 May 15

Climbing Mount Snowdon

At the weekend my family and I climbed up and down Snowdon in North Wales. Some of us were more enthusiastic (and better prepared) than others! None the less, 7 of us set off together glad that it wasn't raining. We didn't always stay together as each had a different walking speed but we did keep meeting together and were glad there is a cafe halfway up as well as at the top. The train was always a fallback option in the back of my mind although it did feel like a bit of a cheat!
We took one of the more gentle routes up the mountain (Llanberis path) and came down a more exciting and steep way initially but with a long, flatter exit (Miners' path).
Here are my reflections on both the ascent and the descent, and some photos to accompany the words.

Ascent to the summit of Snowdon

The others have gone ahead
as I cannot match their pace.
So it is just me,
me and a stick
me and my breath and
the breath of life
gusting strongly around me,
purely elemental.

Just before the top it is steepest,
hardest and
those coming down share
encouraging words to keep going.

As I round the ridge
suddenly
I am amidst a pilgrimage
long lines of bodies going up and down
to record their achievement of the summit,
long lines of ants
following a sugar trail.
We are part of a pilgrimage
celebrating the beauty and wildness
of nature
celebrating human resilience and endeavour
to keep going despite protesting muscles.

The reward is a biting, buffeting wind
trying to remove us from the summit and
the safety and warmth of the café
where, at last, we can rest and eat and
each mark our own personal achievements
before the descent.
© 17 May 15

Descending from the summit

Our way down is rocky
uneven and hard to find.
we are grateful to be
going down instead of up.
The descent is sharply steep
but its reward is a
beautiful clear green lake
nestling among a collection of mountains.

We can rest here and drink in
its serenity amidst
bare rock, slate and grass
organic monuments to centuries of
slow growth and climate change and
human feats of rearranging boulders
rocks and gravel to forge paths.

Wind and sunlight play with the
surface of the water
creating dancing diamonds,
jewels that sparkle and move
in an ever-changing interplay
of water, air and light.
A magical interplay that cares not
whether we are there to
receive, to record it or not.

The green lake will still be
creating unending patterns of
shifting beauty tomorrow
as we journey home
and tomorrow
and tomorrow
and maybe still when there are
no more human eyes to drink in the
magical interplay of
water, air and light.
© 17 May 15

 

Every out-breath

Every out-breath
can be an expression of love
blowing out into the cosmos
to where it is most needed.

Every out-breath
can be an expression of love
highlighting the ungenerous,
nasty and unkind thoughts
letting them lie dormant.

Every out-breath
can be an expression of love
chasing away meanness,
hatred and anger.

Every out-breath
can be an expression of love
nurturing seeds of empathy,
compassion and love,
setting free upon the world
a ripple of love
that becomes a wave
that becomes an ocean.

Every out-breath
can be an expression of love
blowing out into the cosmos
to where it is most needed.

© 9 May 15

Farm in faeryland

We walked in the woods
to where the faeries
play Pooh sticks on the bridge and
dance along the fallen tree-trunk.

We sat to lunch on the wall
and hillside above the bridge
and snoozed, while the faeries
stole away our cake crumbs.

We munched on wild garlic leaves
while the faeries collected
wood anemones and violets
to make their dresses.

We did not see the faeries
bathe in the river or
drop pine cones on our heads or
creep up behind us as we
discussed the names of local fauna.

The flowers sang to us
of the faeries’ adventures and
the trees whispered to us
of the faeries’ tricks
as we wandered unknowingly
through the woods.

© 8 May 15