To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up.
Oscar Wilde

Chesterfield today. Church spire continues to spiral.
Glad to be back on-line after substantial digital break.

Yes. Little did I know that what I thought was H2O was H2SO4! No. Not that tragic thankfully. However today I did enter the wrong postcode into a navigation application which had me in N12 and not N17!

Late for a meeting, in unfamiliar London, I walked and walked a road, up and back. Up and back. Little knowing or realizing I was far distant from my intended destination.

How often do we pace back and forth in our own minds? Seeking. Searching for an intended ‘destination’ only to eventually realized you’re in the wrong ‘place’ all together. We can use help in such circumstances. Sometimes somebody pointing out the way forward can save stress and heartache.

In my case this morning having paced for more than an hour, I called for a taxi. A very expensive taxi ride later I landed on target thanks to the calm compassionate driver. Thanks to all who help us on our way.

London Underground platform waiting room.

Dear Subscribers,
I just added a photograph to my last post just so you know. Some might say 100 is a small number of followers/subscribers after having been going at it for over ten years. And sometimes I think that too. However now thinking about it I tend not to shout so using a regular voice, as I intend to do, means I tend towards not making a whole lot of noise in this Internet That’s fine by me.

And I have been thinking of doing a newsletter for subscribers. More photographs, more details about walking and getting out and about. A ‘thought for the day’ kind of piece – on video. One thing at a time though.

Bows,
Mugo

It’s not that my tinitus let’s up, or the cars on the road or the sound of the fridge, thoughts or the sensation of cold feet. Far from it. Just sometimes when the imperative to get going, move on, act, take action gives a way to a simpler moment. A few moments. Time and it’s passing fades, ceases it’s relentless clamour.

Before my eyes – as if a photograph. Knowing all the while lurks the imperitive, the call to action. Knowing some how, all the while, the content of the photograph/life/living it is insubstantial. Ephemeral. So what is the ground of movement in the moment of writing, walking, saving the world, relieving suffering? Preparing lunch?

The ground? Thundering Silence – in the midst of saying no to holding on – to ANY (separate) thing. We could call that non thinginess. In Buddhism we have a word for that. Sunyata.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%9A%C5%ABnyat%C4%81

Lovely day out on Crosby Beach looking out to sea with 100 iron statues. Just being there. Looking with them brought about an inner calm which couldn’t go unnoticed.