Jan 8th – Ideas
Our representations are fixed, ‘twixt the real and the imaginary.
They are not real, nor true to life, they are a caged menagerie.
Where life taunts its sorrow, haunts its hollow, denies a morrow.
They are the internal eternal alluding to the present moment,
the unreal ideals which we toy with and lament.
They are dead, made from cement, but this we do not realise,
until we hold them up as expectations and wallow when they don’t materialize.
We squeeze life as it splutters, we throw it in the gutter, without even knowing it.
But little do we know that we do reap what we sew,
so for your own sake, pay attention, and watch life’s show,
be present and be willing to see more than you know.
Jan 7th – Big Blue Sky
As you expose yourself to me, openness laid bare, how can I not stop? Not stand still? To wonder and stare. You infuse me, you fill me, full of love, light and grace. The magnificence of your presence embodies expansiveness and space. You create vastness within me, to have and to hold. I give you my body, you give me your soul.
Jan 6th – Emptiness
A blank page, an open stage. Nobody will come to tell me what to write. My pen walks alone as it strolls into the night. Sliding along, whether caressing or dragging, the depths of my insides, be them thriving or flagging. But on it must go, there is no other way, for me to turn dark into light, and night into day.
Jan 5th – You and eye
I do believe that we have this all inside out. That you are within, and I am without. For when I gaze into those tiny black holes, what stares back at me, through me, is no less than your soul. Yet when I look out, to the world all around, your insides, your entrails are what fills the ground. The trees are your lungs, the mountains your bones, the rivers your blood, and the winds are your groans. The void we call space is your vast imagination, the circling galaxies are your cosmic circulation. And black holes in space, what are they if not the same, as the ones I look out of to witness this game?
Jan 4th – Breakfast
A dollop of wobbling, gelatinous, translucent amber nectar sits quivering on my plate. Its bitterness delights my tongue. The crispy outer layers of my crumbling croissant wrap themselves around their own soft, warm, spongy insides. Together, the unlikely pair, come together in my mouth, dancing in unison like a match made in heaven. Then the dark, rich underbelly of earthy, exotic aroma leaps out at me from my coffee cup, calling for my attention. It is liquid black gold, and as I sip it, it stirs up an alchemical response within me that forms a trinity of flavours. Together, in communion, they are richer, deeper, denser, more profound – far more than just the sum of their parts.
3rd Jan – Daydreaming
I am the inner artist of my souls own creation. I paint my life into being with the soft gentle whispers of my heart’s desires. I lavish my mind’s dynamic easel with the most delicate and intricate possibilities of how a life can be. I lick the ice-cream off my fingers in a world that is just as real to me as these written words are to you. Inside myself I laugh a thousand laughs, I smile a thousand smiles. I explore, and adventure, to try things on for size. I play with the fabric of life itself. I hastily cut its cloth with my insatiable minds eye and give birth to a collage of dreams that scatter magic within me like shooting stars. Each new burst of colourful, sensual, roaming imagery more beautiful, more real, more life-like than the rest. Sweet dreams, for a sweet life. Lovingly crafted from the luminous, fleeting nature of possibility, and of potential.
2nd Jan – The Seashore
You give yourself away. Offer yourself up. Lap at my solidity. You are utterly selfless and yet completely self-satisfying. Why the rush to throw yourself away? To lose yourself so readily? You soak my every fibre and allow me, to be me. Yet you are not you, without my containment. Without me holding you in my finite embrace, you are nothing. And I too am nothing if I do not offer up my being to contain you.
Happy 2014!!! Well a new day, and a new year, has dawned, spreading itself out in front of us like a beautiful blank page, calling us to write, sing or dance our life into action.
To start the year off as I mean to go on I have joined a one-month mindful writing project using a ‘tool’ called ‘Small Stones’. The tool is used by the project ‘Writing Our Way Home’ as a way to engage with the world mindfully, through writing.
The following information is from their wonderful website:
small stones will help you connect to the world, in all its richness & complexity & juiciness. Join us for our Mindful Writing Challenge in January and write one every day for a month…
What is a small stone?
A small stone is a short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.
towels and shirts and pillowcases show me the shapes of the breeze
Why write small stones?
When we translate something we’ve seen or experienced into words, it is necessary to pay more attention than we usually would. A few minutes of mindful attention (even once a day) helps us to engage with the world in all its beauty.
To find your own small stones:
1. Keep your eyes, nose, mouth, fingers, ears & your mind open.
2. Notice something.
3. Write it down.
What does a small stone look like?
As long as it’s shortish, anything goes. There are no strict rules as there are for forms such as haiku. small stones are often concrete, specific, and written about ordinary things – birdsong, or a dark grey cloud.
Do I have to be a writer to write small stones?
No. The process of finding small stones is more important than the finished product. Searching for them will encourage you to keep your eyes (and ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind) open.Your short written piece (and learning to enjoy writing & the deliciousness of words) is simply a happy by-product of this process.
Where will I find small stones?
small stones are everywhere, all of the time. All you have to do is pause and let them appear. You’ll know when you see one, because it will set off a small burst of feeling inside you. It might be that you really notice the ugliness of a piece of chewed gum on the pavement, or the beauty of a pigeon, or vice versa. An overheard snippet of conversation might strike you as amusing, or strange. Whatever you notice, you will be noticing it with fresh eyes.
How do I pick up my small stones?
The best way is to catch them as they occur, by carrying a note-book around with you and jotting down what you’ve noticed or experienced straight away.”….
And so, on the 1st January 2014 – here is my first Small Stone:
I am bathing in the glorious, hushed caress of silence. It is dense, warm and comforting and spreads itself throughout my entire being like thick, soupy chocolate sauce. It lavishes me with relief and soothes my soul, stroking my life blood with its balmy spread of deeply attentive, invisible fingertips. It is pregnant, all but empty, and full of possibility. I am embraced by a silent whisper, a gentle, loving force, that is just as alive and as potent as sound itself. There would be no sound without silence. In fact, silence has a sound but not one that can be heard with my ears, only with my heart. My heart hears its potency, understands its call for renewal, for rest. It is the soft sandy shore upon which I can lay my bare feet before returning again to swim in the waves of life’s rhythmic heartbeat.
In October 2013 I organised an Earthtalk at Schumacher college to promote the book “Stories of the Great Turning”, which I have a chapter published in. This is a video of my contribution, which summarises the story that I wrote for the book. Enjoy! xx