What to Offer?

Walking along the bottom road this evening. Some stranded calves bellow to their mothers on the other side of the rushing river on the valley floor. Rarely does the river run so wide and fast. How much more can the giant sponge which is the moorland at the head of the valley hold before it disgorges? The road is running with water, in places I have to paddle. This is an unusual situation for us. But, as I walk, I can’t help counting our blessings here. To be grateful to be safe from the power and great strength of flooding water further south, rushing to find it’s level.

So also I can’t help but think of those who are caught up in the drama. And I remind myself not to become vicariously involved in the drama as it unfolds daily. As far as I am concerned the disaster is to loose ones sitting place in the midst of all of this.

Charity, tenderness, benevolence and sympathy (empathy) are the four signs of Enlightenment which we can offer; always and in all directions. For the most part this goes unnoticed, which is as well.

Horribly Jolly

The weather in Britain has been in the news and on all of our minds one way or another. Here is some bright spark who has a solution to the flooding. (Thanks Iain for passing on this item found on the BBC web site in a
comments section.)

I’m going to build an ‘ARK’ with twenty levels, and fill it with fish, well, Carp in particular. Its going to be a multi-storey ‘Carp ark’, that should keep us dry!

My journey to and from Harrogate and Leeds this week end went without event. Returned here Saturday evening to find the phone line was down. No known reason.

As a people we can be horribly jolly in adversity. That doesn’t hurt though.

Moth


One of the monks was very keen to have me snap a picture of this huge moth which had been attracting a lot of attention this morning. So, here it is.

I’m off to Harrogate to-day, and then Leeds tomorrow for a day retreat. I’ve a Tom Tom aboard so hopefully it will guide me to my destinations.

Better than a 21 Gun Salute

A 100 Squadron plane flew low over the Methodist cemetery just as the minister was committing the body. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The timing was impeccable but who could have planned the weather? After the pass the plane shot vertically into the sky disappearing into the clouds. ‘To get away from the weather’ his son said. What a send off!

The Squadron Leader, the newly departed one and neighbour, was greatly honoured in our small valley. He served as a Royal Air Force pilot most of his working life. His son, also an RAF man, had arranged the fly past.

Five of us had trouped along the bottom road to the cemetery, just a couple of minutes walk away. The clouds were readying for rain, a small group of mourners gathered on the side of the narrow road. We were invited to the burial by the widow, one time receptionist at our local doctors surgery. One way or another we get to know the neighbours.

As one of the monks remarked, We grew up with Mr. A. Indeed, most of us would have stopped to pass the time of day while out for a walk. My conversations in the early 1990’s with him were about re building dry stone walls, which he did rather expertly. Rather more testing were the irate phone calls I’d receive from him while the Guest Master. Your people are on my land, again! For the Wing Commander, straying guests were stray stock to be chased off with much hulewing. He was a force to be reckoned with. Frightened and confused the guests would scramble back over the fallen down wall. Later we put up large signs to deter the guests from inadvertently wandering off the monastery property.

I’ll not forget the the sight of the plane rising vertically into the sky this afternoon; any more than I’ll forget the cloud of golden leaves whipped up into the air by a stray breeze as the late Head of our Order entered the cremation oven. That was back in April 2003.

The Universe has perfect timing and this is true for everything.

Well done Squadron Leader, you did well and have a good ‘flight’ into the clear blue sky.

Human Training

Yesterday I made a pilgrimage to visit my belongings, for the time being mournfully trapped in plastic boxes in an attic. There is always a surprise in store on these occasions. This time I discovered I had an audio cassette tape player, which is good news indeed. While there I decided to drag down some box files containing old lecture notes. To my great delight there were also notes I’d made after conversations with one of the seniors at Shasta with whom I regularly took Refuge. Sounds like I must have been having an issue with trust and getting along with other people. A common theme in practice.

Trust Partakes of Acceptance
Trust (in somebody) is given expression to by being willing let go of what ever is going on. In order to trust someone absolutely they would have to be perfect.

Compassion for Self and Other
When encountering people (their habits) ‘get to you’, think how difficult and painful it must be for that person to be the way they are. July 1995