Category Archives: photograph

Not Alone

The Midland Hotel, Morecambe.
The Midland Hotel, Morecambe.

The mark of a good action
is that is appears inevitable
in retrospect.
Robert Louis Stevenson

The photograph isn’t linked to the quote by the way.

I’ve long intended to see the Midland in the flesh and the other day circumstances conspired to have me and a friend walking around catching sight of people enjoying high tea. One day I’ll go in and have a cup of tea while gazing out over Morecambe Bay. Another day when conditions conspire to take me there again. Tea anybody!

Too late in the day to ponder on the above quote at any length. Enough to say there is no escape from the law of cause and effect. Our own hand shapes us as we wander through life. Not alone.

 

 

Tangible Touch

Nankipoo - he loved to lie on shoes
Nankipoo – he loved to lie on shoes

Yesterday I invented THREE new words! Those of you who subscribe to receive posts via email will have seen the first one – tangerable which I have since corrected to tangible. Apparently the word tangible is frequently associated with touch, Tangible: Perceptible by the senses especially the sense of touch.

Clearly Nankipoo, and all of our animal friends touch us, in tangible and non-tangible levels of awareness. I think that has to be the case with we humans too.

Thank you to the Reverend who pointed out my spelling mistake, so very kindly. And the other two invented words? Longthering and widering. Definitions: Getting longer and getting wider. Nankipoo was a looong cat, as cats are.

Not Gone

Dawn1

A thought
fleeting
profound content
grateful

Everything perfect
sweet
Just-as
it-is

Passing
it’s passing
eternally
tangible

A thought
fleeting
grasping
longing

How human are we to want good things to last. Somewhere I remember reading that attachment and detachment flow together throughout our entire lives. I’m fine with that. Remembering Nankipoo a Shasta Abbey cat, 19 years old, who died yesterday. RIP.

Coming to Quiet

From Scouts Scar
From Scouts Scar

fellsThis image mapping the fells was added after the original post. For those who like to know what they are looking at.

Ah!

Yesterday. Rounding the top, looking over the edge of Scouts Scar. Magic! A magic moment bringing awe and joy. Nearby a woman walking her dog said softly, It’s like velvet! The grass and everything combined to bring me, and her, up short. We paused and took the whole thing in. A shared moment and then we continued on our way.

Stopping to let oneself absorb what’s coming into the senses allowing ‘oneself’, the sense of being a separate entity, fade into the background of consciousness, can bring about those Ah! times. Lasting a moment or moment after moment. Nothing to seek for of course. Simply to be where one is and to notice. Simply notice. To remain awake.

Quiet: an absence or near absence of agitation, or activity. But does quiet mean the absence of activity? Is there quiet in the midst of activity? I’d say so.

Love Lost? Think Not

spring flowers
It seems like yesterday, but it wasn’t, when I strained to hold up a flight of stairs while my dad fixed them in place at the top. They were heavy and I was seriously challenged; my relationship with this man, my relationship with myself. Why am I doing this, doesn’t he appreciate how ridiculously heavy these stairs are! For goodness sake, I could hurt myself. But that all flashed by so quickly and the thought imprinted indelibly on my mind was, I love this person, not in spite of his idiosyncrasies but BECAUSE of them,

How true it is of people, places, animal friends. Everything and everybody I’d say. The now-and-then craziness of our friends and acquaintances are still bonkers at times – love doesn’t render us blind. Each of us has habits and…quirkinesses others find difficult! But love transcends and acknowledges what is, seemlessly (and for sure sometimes love tells us to hot-foot it out and away, and fast.)

I love the car I drive, the place I’m staying, the pots and pans I use. I thank them as I leave and return, when I turn the key in the locks and when I burn a pan (as this morning) and it comes up shiny and new again. Love just comes and that’s the way of gratitude and of love, not a feeling, more simply of the heart. Just arises without counting the costs, the hurts and disappointments the slights and the worries. Oh, and of course the inter-personals!

I guess there isn’t a thing, not anything, that’s outside or inside for that matter. All the same it’s when we are estranged, leaving, leaving behind, waving good by, that what’s ever-present makes manifest.

These flowers above are in memory of my father who died on the 29th January 2000 and for a chap who is getting ready to exit this world.  My kind thoughts to all who suffer with loss and with lost love.

It never is.