I’m really pleased to have this quote from The Water Babies which a fellow monk reminded me about during a phone call this evening. Thanks Reverend, it’s a good one to remember on basic practice, for any of us. Meister Eckhart has something to say on spiritual adulthood, if only I could find the quote….

And then there is this hearty refrain from way back when The Mamas and The Papas where singin’. Was that from the 1960’s when many of us where not going to grow up, while thinking that we were!

It’s that time of year on the moors when Autumn turns into Winter, over night. At the moment the wind is such that during the night it blew over a bench on an exposed lawn, making it, according to one of the monks, a Bench Force Wind. Apparently there is a Bench Force 3 wind when all three benches blow over!

Wind, like rain, has many subtle variations with suitable descriptive terms used on our weather reporting system in and around England. One being the Shipping forecast, which many a night I would listen to in Cornwall as the walls of my caravan breathed in and out alarmingly. Thankfully the walls of the buildings around here are feet thick and made of stone. The roof tiles on some of the older buildings are the size of paving stones, almost.

Anyway the wind I like most, or rather it’s description, is ‘impedes progress’. And, until one has had ones progress impeded by wind it is difficult to appreciate what this means. Watch out for flying children and small animals I’d say!

CPRE, The Campaign for the Protection of Rural England announced in a recent news release that Northumberland, this county, followed by it’s neighbour Cumbra have been found to be the most tranquil places in England. There were some obvious criteria for the tranquility assessment; bird song, the sound of running water, the absence of traffic noise, rural views, number of people around.

While all the conducive conditions exist here for meditation and reflection they are not essential. In fact any one can sit still, anywhere, any time. It’s a choice, which becomes easier to make with frequent practice. Let the winds blow!

I came across a blog written by a platoon leader in Mosul, Iraq. He’s 23 years old. The following is from a recent post where he talks to his fellow countrymen, imploring them and all of us to consider our thoughts before speaking. He writes thus:

The moral of my men has a direct impact on whether they will live or die each day. I choose to live and so does everyone here. Despite this desire, demoralizing conditions do great harm, in regards to keeping my men safe. These conditions lead to complacency, which will, at one point, lead to another tragic event that I don’t want repeated. In summary, I implore you, as a collective group, to consider your thoughts before you speak and understand that your comments have a lasting effect on real people that fight this war on a daily basis.

This certainly has given me cause to pause before speaking my thoughts. That’s my thoughts about anything. And to reflect on compassion too, about there being no place, person, situation, country etc. that compassion cannot reach…if one opens to that possibility.

Well, that’s it! Seven pages of text typed, re-typed, edited, deleted, *wondered about, re-formatted, edited and re-edited again. There was a brief reply after I sent the document. “Got it”! Now I await a further response.

While looking for inspiration for a posting I came across a site that linked writing to thinking to learning more easily. I’m all for that, however what was a little worrying was that it came from the Artificial Intelligence Center. Just what IS that?

Misconceptions about writing
Myth: Writing is mainly about poetry and fiction.

Most of the writing in the world is for information.
It’s often done by people who don’t even like poetry and fiction.

Well, I’ve certainly been writing information these past weeks. It’s been a sort of a memory dump of the past ten years experience of fulfilling my monastic responsibility. And there is more to fall out of my memory banks, but that will have to be on another day.

*Wondered =’s ‘doubtful speculation’ also ‘be amazed at’.

How about the wonder of autumn in all of its glory around these parts in Englands Last Wilderness? Wonder Full.

Over in Cyprus, on a Mediterranean beach two dogs follow a lone blogger artist. One dog is lame and the other is both deaf and lacks a sense of smell. And those dogs link back to Odin the Wanderer, read on…

Thought is short and memory long. Odin was worshipped by the Norsemen (Vikings) as the Allfather. This religion died out over a thousand years ago leaving Odin to wander through the legendary “fading” until the final battle, Ragnarok. The final showdown between good and evil.
From Thole Man

I’ve always been attracted to wanderin’. The only vinyl record I ever owned was Lee Marvin singing (as only he can), “I was born under a wanderin’ star” from Paint Your Wagon (1969). Even then I thought is was my song. And if I remember rightly on the B side was a young Clint Eastward drawling, I talk to the stars but they don’t listen to me.

This evening, walking back to my room after meditation, the big dipper (or the plough) was hanging huge and high in the night sky. What an incredible place this is.