Wordless Wednesday

Loneliness

Do not be afraid
To encounter Loneliness.
It is a rare opportunity
To make friends with
Oneself.


Tibetan proverb.

Karma

"As you sow so shall you reap"

This is the Law of Karma. Interestingly, both science and religion recognize this law. In science it is often stated, “For every action there is an equal and opposing reaction.” Its religious counterparts are, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth”; and “As you do unto others, it will be done unto you.” Even today’s common knowledge expresses this principle in the saying, “What goes around, comes around.” This is the law of karma, of cause and effect.

After years of battling with my life, my demons, I find this strangely comforting. My life is the life I am meant to have, the lessons I am learning are the lessons I need to learn. Every thought, word and action that I do will have an effect. Either good or bad. These words are keeping me alert, aware and alive.

Its a relief to put aside the doubts and confusion, to believe in my soul, to live every day with compassion.

Funny how 7 words can make such a difference.

Jingling Jerseys

One day, on our recent skite to the wilds of Northern Spain, we decided to visit one of Catalonia's National Parks. It was Tuesday, so, we knew we would have the mountains to ourselves. Always a tempting prospect. So, being Oscar Wilde fans in the temptation department, off we scampered. After 2 hours of uneventful driving we arrived at our starting point. Ready for the off.

It was a beautiful, bright, crisp morning. Ideal walking weather. The scenery was spectacular, the riotous, autumnal colours, a feast for the eyes. We passed 4 other people, 2 couples, obviously, just out for a short ramble. By midday, we hadn't set eyes on another human being for at least an hour. We had this corner of the universe to ourselves. Bliss.

But we were never alone. Everywhere, there were signs of nature's magnificence. The skies were filled with the ever-watchful birds of prey. Vultures, eagles, hawks and kestrels soared and glided, effortlessly, through the vast blue expanse. Just above our heads, an assortment of smaller birds, twittered and skittered, dive bombing us at every available opportunity, in a vain effort to despatch us back to the lowlands. Around us, there were vague scuttlings and scurryings. But ne'er a culprit to be seen. All of this was accompanied by the occasional jingle, jangle of bells. "Do you hear the bells?" I asked GB at one stage. "What bells?" he said. GB has a small amount of damage to his hearing. He doesn't hear grass grow, like I do. "Sh! THOSE bells!" He stopped walking and listened intently. He, like a lot of men, doesn't multi-task. "Oh yes, I hear them now. 'Tis a bit early for the fat man with the white beard and the reindeer, isn't it?"

Our walks are, invariably, peppered with intellectual conversations like this.

Within 2 or 3 minutes we happened on these beauties.




I love cows. I love the smell of them. I love their soft, liquid eyes and the slow, laconic movement of their mouths as they chew, endlessly. I'm in awe of their sureness. Their certainty, that they have as much right as the flamboyant fliers or the belligerent boars, the fleeing foxes or the hurrying hares, to exist, to chew, to watch and wonder at the passing parade. I love their acceptance. These noble creatures were more than content to spend their days munching and chewing, wandering and resting, jingling and jangling. Their bells were the only sign that they weren't as free as the birds of the air. I'm not sure they cared, one way or the other, about the bells around their necks or the freedom enjoyed by their feathered friends.

They, needless to say, weren't one bit interested in us.

Ignoble or Ingenius?

Frightening, isn't it?

Haystack Head

When I was a child, our family used to go on holidays every summer out to my mother's home-place in Co. Limerick. It was only 25 miles from where we were living but it might as well have been a different planet. Life was very different there for us "townies". The biggest difference, for me, was the smell. Pigs, cows, chickens, horses, hay, dogs, children, fresh-from-the cow milk, baking and tea, all immensely strong and recognisable. Smells that engulfed, repulsed, captured and enraptured. We spent endless, sun-filled days rolling in haystacks, herding docile cows, chasing wayward pigs, collecting eggs, exploring and discovering. And, all the time, the incredible redolence.

The extreme effort of climbing to the top of a haystack, without falling off, and then, the sheer exhilaration of sliding, arms and legs flailing, down the other side. After several hours of rollicking and rolling, the bellys would be roaring, so, we'd pick ourselves up, shake the stalks off and head back to the house. All the way back, we would be scratching and itching, pulling and dragging, like demented, flea-ridden puppies.

The last few days have seen me, metaphorically speaking, scratching and itching, pulling and dragging, like the afore-mentioned flea-ridden canines. Straw in my clothes, in my hair, in my brain. The smell of haystacks all around me. Why is this? I can only surmise that its the half-baked idea that I could do this NaBloPowhatchamacallitthingy. No problem. Easy peasy. It seemed like a fun, creative, kick-in-the pants idea at the time.

Now, I'm not so sure.

Before November, I'd get on blogger and read, and laugh, and cry and be thoroughly enraptured, entertained, inspired and, occasionally, when the muse struck, write a post myself. I was constantly surprised and delighted that people were visiting and commenting on what I had written. But now, in the throes of NaBloPoMo, I'm clutching at straws, wriggling and squirming, wondering why so and so hasn't been around, why he/she seems to have stopped visiting altogether. Why do I care? Where did my arrogance come from? What made me think I had something to say? And,why was I blogging in the first place? Why has something, which was supposed to be fun, taken me back to the itchy, scratchy days of the haystacks?

I'm just curious as to how, why and when, my ego reared its ugly head and screwed with my brain.

Maybe, its time for me to get my head out of the haystack?

I was never one to flog a dead, or even, a dying horse.

Gabbing with God

Its 2am and I'm lying in bed. Awake. Sort of. The internal debate of whether to give up altogether and get up or to turn over and try again continues. Its warm and cosy. Turning over wins. Eventually,I'm drifting and flowing over paths and fields, feeling the warmth and numbness of weightlessness when I hear

"Rise, Rise, are you awake?"... he whispered.

"I am. Now." I mumble. "Why are you here, at this ungodly hour? What is SO important that it can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Oh, it CAN wait, if you like, but, I just thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing .... we haven't had much chat lately ... you're busy with your life and I have the usual million and one things to be doing ...but, lately, the silence from your end is deafening, if you don't mind me saying so. I feel a little neglected. So, is it O.K. to talk now? Its nice and quiet."

"What do you mean, the 'silence if deafening'? I've been storming your gates, leaving messages, calling around for the last 2 weeks and you're NEVER there. All I get is that incessant answering machine... by the way, you REALLY should change your message ... its starting to get a bit OLD. And as for that housekeeper you have .... you should get on to the Agency and get them to find you someone who can actually communicate with other human beings .... And as for feeling neglected 'Join the Club' oh mighty one."

"The housekeeper does her best. What else would you have her do? And why are you so cranky, anyway? Whats eating you?"

"I'm not cranky ...I'm just very cross with you. I don't like the way you're running things. I think you just don't care anymore. I wish you were nicer sometimes. Kinder, even. You know, you do have a reputation to live up to .. All loving, all merciful ... And why aren't you like the pictures the nuns gave us ... for Heavens sake, you don't even have a beard ... all the REALLY kind deities have big, white beards."

"Hmm ...And what about my clothes? Do you think, should I get new sandals? New Levis maybe? Whats this preoccupation with my appearance, anyway .. you never used to care before?"

"I DON'T CARE ...I couldn't give a rats ass if you go go around looking like a Ninja Turtle on speed .... but could you please TRY to be nicer? Can you lift the gloom that hangs over so many people's lives? Can you persuade people to behave like REAL human beings? Can you stop the appalling atrocities that happen thousands of times a day, every day? Can you put an end to man's inhumanity to his fellow man? Can you? Huh? Huh? Don't answer that. Yes, I know you can. But you won't. Free will, yeah, yeah, I know."

"Ah Rise, this isn't like you ... what has happened? Why SO impatient? I've told you before, hundreds of times, I can't just march in like Major General Fixitall and read everyone the riot act. It doesn't work like that. Sure, I can help, but not always immediately or in the way that you think I should. You DO know that I have a PLAN, don't you? And you DO trust me, don't you? Or are you so cranky and contrary that you don't want to know anything at all? Maybe, I should call back at another time?"

"No, don't go just yet. I'll be civilised, I promise. I just need to hear the plan again and maybe a song, just for the crankiness, you understand ... you know the one ... Hop in here beside me, its lovely and warm .... Oh for God's sake, take the bloody sandals off first."

GB slept the sleep of the brave, bless him.


photo credit: www.art.com