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Category Archives: History
Its more than possible to halt our our metamophosis with where we direct our minds (our habits and our comfort places). For instance, where is the contempory fiction that looks forwards, not to the topics of war, or cancer, or horror, or divorce, or past-trauma, or dsystopia, or kitchen-sink drama, or fluffy romance? Where is all the optimism, combined with new thinking and the sheer force of imagingation that is fiction?? Never forget that reading is how we sow seeds in the fertile ground of our minds; so, as any gardener knows well, be mindful of the quality of the soil but also of the kind of seeds that you sow. Continue reading →
“For Now does ride in on the curl of the wave,
And you will dance with me in the sunlit pools.
We are of the going water and the gone.
We are of water in the holy land of water
And all that’s to come runs in
With the thrust on the strand.” Continue reading →
There’s a time for each of us to sift through what we have, taking the best bits of our past and (as for the rest of it) knowing what, and when, to let go. Now is probably that time!
Sharing a story of how this has come up for me this week… Continue reading →
Let me take you on a walk through a city; am impromptu Imbolc ceremony with a difference. No green pasture this, no village tree surrounded by fields…but, rather, pavements cracked with gold that speak of new beginnings. As ever, my … Continue reading →
Amsterdam through Asperger’s eyes; a multi-dimensional map, a palette of many textures and a journey of deep self-exploration. Continue reading →
…these two artists I encountered had something in common. Though their mark making was pared back, economical with nothing superfluous in there at all, these landscapes THROBBED with unseen energetic life, before my very eyes, and reminded me that all things in existence are like this. We are all made-up of so much more than that which is registered by the first five senses and these other impulses make all of us, and the very landscape with which we interact at these unseen levels, who we truly are… Continue reading →
Sometimes its as though the stones of a place speak to us; sometimes its a feeling of a place that takes us back in time…reminding us of something important, like a memo to ourselves. Continue reading →
What does Sheherazade have to tell us about where we are now, at the end of “1001 nights” of human history? Are we ready to face a new dawn together or do we throw ourselves back into a perpetual re-run of all those same old stories with their oh-so predictable endings? When this particular story came up for me just so powerfully again, having been such a long-running companion throughout my life, I found myself sitting up and taking note of what it had to tell me about how we are holding a whole new kind of an ending in the palm of our unified hands. Both the masculine and feminine aspects have to be prepared to face up to the fact there are no new endings to the stories they have both already heard; they can only move on by overcoming each of their fears (both equally vaid…yet together, they neutralise) creating a brand new story, together. Continue reading →
You can feel as though you are standing on the very cusp of a meeting place between impulses that have tugged and pulled at one another for thousands of years of human history when you visit Canterbury. I thought that finding somewhere tranquil to spend 11 o’ clock on 11/11 would be a straightforward matter there…but what unfolded had a longer, deeper and more convoluted story to tell me about the relationship between masculine and feminine and where we are now as they learn to come back together in one place again. Continue reading →
When we reach out our arms and embrace the broken aspect of the masculine, we bring it home to ourselves and the feminine values that are so needed by this world in order for us to move on together, intermingled as the best of both masculine and feminine qualities, as one unit. When we do this, we allow the masculine to dare to come home to the ever present embrace of the feminine, not to build up its walls of resistance even stronger against it. It is sad, yes, that so often the masculine has to be broken before it will come home in this way; but let it be broken only because of its own doings, not because the feminine contributed to that (which is not what the feminine is about anyway). As such, we all get to be the rainbow rather than chasing down its mythical ending (something I pondered just a few days ago as I was travelling home along a road arced by a rainbow, wondering which end the pot of gold was meant to be at; surely when we realise it is to be found at both ends, the whole of its bridge, joining one place to another, becomes that long sought-after gold). When we are the rainbow ourselves, rather than seeking it externally, we incorporate the best of both worlds…as ourselves; which makes it less of a destination than a state we get to be in, all of the time.
Rediscovering the much-needed rainbow bridge that I describe as it is so beautifully conveyed in a hundred year old “parable” of our times: E. M Forster’s “Howard’s End”. Continue reading →