A challenging day; I took a short walk to the upper promenade.
Gazing at the pier stretching out into the sea, I saw its stability and determination to be nothing but a pier. It has no wheels or moving parts but people journey on this wooden deck; to look back at the town buildings and the bustle of life.
This structure has the ability, to take you to another place, above the land and the sea - and by its own position, to view things from a different corner.
Just what I needed.
Dufton Pike was too inviting, despite the strong wind; worth every step.
I could barely stand at the top as the wind took my breath away. The rest of the small band of travellers set off on the decent, I stayed awhile to take in the experience, intent on revisiting this experience throughout the coming weeks.
Psalm 2
O Spirit of God’s eternal springtime heart, grant me the virtue of elasticity. Make my heart as boundless as my Beloved’s heart which at this moment is creating new galaxies and infant suns.
Stir my mind well with your sacred spoon to awaken the fermentation of ideas. Stirred by the ten thousand little compromises required for me by the stiffness of the old leathered skins of society and religion.
I was sitting in my old chair, deep in my room - surrounded by my memories, furniture, pictures and books; withdrawn and safe within my world created.
The window surrounded by fabric and walls, allows light into this world of mine.
The morning sun in its colours of gold orange and yellow cast shadows that move swiftly across my world.
From where I sit, the view through my window is limited; occasionally a bird will fly past or circle in the distance.
Noises outside bring curiosity, and I rise to approach my window.
I breathe in familiar senses of this beautiful NEW world that is my present future.
Laughter abides in the tree at the bottom of our garden;
the cracking and popping of the buds and the rapid change in its shades of green.
The distant view through its branches, takes on a filter of foliage;
change is here, and what we now see, is something quite different.
Almost a week ago I began, not for the first time – a journey into rather than away from. Though the week was spent with others, it was very much time for self; the others, provided the reflection necessary, for the internal reference.
A story told, crammed with metaphors, lead us through fields to an old house; cared for by a very special couple. Visitors were clearly changed having spent time at this magical place; it was as if they could take some of the very fabric of the building with them. Cases packed, taxi waiting in the drive, each one carried out much more than they had brought.
Returning to places that have been important to us, is not always that easy. The woman in the story, after leaving the old house, paused on a bridge and gazed into the water; seeing herself looking back at her becoming.
This evening was spent at a Vin Garbutt gig, which I thoroughly enjoyed; he saved the best till last and sang “What’s the use of wings”.
