Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Just want to note

I just want to note this here lest I forget, on the day of the vernal equinox and the super moon, that this is a big day and that this has been a big week. I can feel the planets realigning inside me. We have sold our house to a man with the heart of a poet, I am reconnecting with estranged friends and I am becoming an American citizen (I aced my test!). I can't sleep but it doesn't seem to matter. I am aware of the things that are whirling around me and I am making a note of this so so I can look this up days from now to understand it. If I were an astrologer I would chart it. Connections are being made that feel like ridiculous coincidences. Mother Earth, Guru Ram Dass, God makes her presence known. I don't feel alone. I don't feel alone. I feel connected and purposeful and part of a tiny cog in a huge and magical machine. I just want to remember all these beautiful threads so I can work them out and understand how they fit together. Or not. Maybe I shouldn't ask. But I have a profound sense of gratitude. A deep sense that this is right, that I am where I should be, and that there are forces conspiring right now for good in the world. I know that good things are coming for all of us. 











 

Friday, February 15, 2019

Tea and oranges



It's a quarter to two and I am sick and I find myself craving tea and oranges, which I have cut into wedges and am eating out of a Chinese bowl, in my bed. It's quiet. But there is moonlight. The dogs are surprised by this nocturnal activity. They see a window which would allow them into the bed and they sit by my side waiting expectantly. 

Something about being sick gives you an opportunity to see another side of your life. You are too sick too work so you contemplate the other things. I am blunt from ibuprofen yet surprisingly open and optimistic and seeing a different future. Sometimes the door opens and you see just exactly what you have to do. It's a unexpected upside of being a miserable git. 

Can we talk about the beauty of oranges? Sweet and sour and refreshing and juicy and the goodness just drips down inside of you. It reminds me of Christmas and my father and the large box he would buy for that season, keeping in the cellar. They were wrapped in purple paper, each one of them. Large, shiny-skinned navel oranges, with babies. 

Tomorrow is the birthday of my youngest child. She will be 24. I can't even wrap my head around this age Twenty four years since she appeared. My sweet, sickly child, always ill as a little girl. I feel my current ibuprofen/acetaminophen diet is a kind of homage to her and her high temperatures when she was little. Sweet, sweet thing. 




 

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Sick


I got very sick today. The sort of sick where you know you shouldn't be driving. Shaking and aching and high fever and all you want is your bed. It came on like a hurricane, unexpectedly, annoyingly, ferociously. My mamma, whom I took to lunch for Valentine's Day, asked me to come
home with her so she could look after me. It made me melt. She is 84 and finds it hard to walk and there she is offering me cups of tea in proper cups and my cozy childhood bed with the flowery pink Laura Ashley cover. It's days like this — children are the other side of the world, Charlie is in Berlin for another few days — when you appreciate your mama. It's not lost on me that it's Valentine's Day and last year I was sunk in a depression in a house with no electricity and no heating and she showed up with a flask of hot water, some milk, some tea bags. She is pretty amazing. And now I lie here stuffed with acetaminophen, sweating through the fever in my pajamas, with the dogs on the newly laundered linen sheets, and I feel grateful. So, so grateful. 

Happy Valentine's Day to all my friends and all the people that kindly keep up with this sporadic blog. Thank you. Every day I wake up and consider changing the world. And every day I don't. I believe the Truth will reveal itself when we are ready. But most of all let's think about love and what that is and what it means. It's kindness and cups of tea and trying to understand the other. 

It really is all that matters. 

Take care. ❤️




 

Wednesday, February 06, 2019

Go Fourth

It must be said that yesterday, the fourth of February was the day that everything changed. The sun, due to set at 4.57pm in Henley-on-Thames, Oxon, left an orange and pink blaze across the horizon until at least six o'clock, and the accompanying haze was also melon-tinted, as if someone had applied a gauzy filter. It's the kind of weather that can change a heart, or even a stubborn mind, because God (or Goddess or Energy or Love) was saying "Your shitty cold winter is nearly over. The dark days are diminishing. There's a horse and there's a sunset and life is good." Or at least that's what I read into it. Time to leave winter and your ego behind. Time to march into the future and to Regard Life's Bigger Purpose. Or something like that.

Wednesday, January 09, 2019

Is there anything more dull?

Is there anything more dull than a blog post that begins "I am nine days in to dry January"?

Strangely, it's quite revelatory. Here I am at eleven o'clock, sitting on the sofa by the embers of the fire, listening the washing machine run and writing. Even the dogs have gone to sleep. I am quite alone, having written my thank you letters and cleaned out my email inbox. Usually I'd be asleep. Even after one glass of wine, I'd find my eyelids heavy. This new world is rather exciting and yes, I suppose a little smug.

We got home yesterday from Los Angeles and it's cold and beautiful here. Eliot's evening sky is spread out. Gloves are required. My kitchen is more chilly than I'd like because it has windows on two sides. Windows I wouldn't swap for the world because it gives immediate access to sunset and peacocks and horses riding by, to the naked oak in the field, and far in the distance Didcot and the two humps which I presume are ancient earthworks.

I have succeeded, it seems, in stretching time. If only someone had told me this sooner.

Do you think we drink to get through life, to cut us off from the ugliness or do we drink because wine is delicious, or do we drink because it's a habit, and it was our parents' habit and our grandparents' habit before them. I'm full on The Cocktail Party meets Ice Storm. It seemed uncivilized not to have a drink in my parents' heyday. Champagne before lunch on Sundays. Gin & Tonics at night. Wine with supper without fail. And yet, this clarity you get nine days in...wowzas.

I promise I will try not to be dull. I will try to remain silly and outrageous and weird, but I like this state. I really do.

I thanked Tej for her prayers for the little baby who was having trouble after it was born and she seemed unimpressed, or rather, she took it in her stride. Guru Ram Das, she said, he makes miracles happen. I think he did. I'm always slightly suspicious when I go to her class that she has cast a white witch spell on me. I didn't know one could feel this good without divine intervention...

Don't be ashamed of who you are.
Own it.
Don't listen to other people trying to make you more like everyone else.
Be kind. (I try). Be patient. Be optimistic.
I do think that good things will come to those with a fierce heart.

Satnam good folk of Bloggerville.

I will try to be less smug tomorrow. Much love xo