Saturday, 27 October 2012

Autumn the Season of Last Sighs

Autumn is the last sigh. The final breath of nature before the whole cycle begins again.

The leaves say to each other, “let’s  explode with colour  because these are our last moments of life before we fall to the ground. Now though, we are most glorious, we are a blooming burnt orange, liquid ruby red, and the yellow of the searing sun.  Together, we are colours that oscillate and blur into a meandering river of hues and fire that whisper to be looked at. Finally it is time for our last flourish. In this ultimate instance, we see the life we have lived for what it is and know it most completely.”

 It dawns that their final moments are their greatest because it is only in that fated breath, before it is taken away that frank and tangible appreciation for life presents itself.

“In our dying moments you notice us”, they scream out.  “Only when we take all we have learnt and experienced and course it through our being in the brightest shades of life do you pay attention.  But don’t you see this means we have accomplished what we were meant to, in our last moments we have caused you to look up and notice the beauty of the world and that is enough for us.”

The leaves do not feel sorrow but joy when one of them falls and trickles to the ground because they know that soon they will be joining them and that it is only by falling that they help the next leaves to grow. It is understood, that there is no more they can do at this time and in this place, here and now they have reached the limits of their experience and existence.

Yet in falling, they have played their role and in doing so they continue to be part of it, part of the continuum, the momentum of being. It is only after a whole life has been lived that his can be realised. Sometimes a whole life is a short time and sometimes it is a very long time but both are complete in themselves.

I’m in the autumn of my life, at the end but at the start. Like autumn, I am a story that begins at the end.

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Some Inspiration for a rainy day

'Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves more and more peace and to reflect it towards others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world' . Etty

Monday, 8 October 2012

The Trouble of Being in your 20s

I feel this press upon and around me and it’s born out of being in my 20s. I think at this point in your life there is so much (too much) external and internal pressure to live it all and sort your life out. To know categorically where your heading and be starting down the path of the rest of your life- everything else up until this point has been preparation and now you have to step out of the safety of preparation and put it all into practice for your real life.  
 So much we are told that is the path you will stay on into your middle age, dotage and it will end somewhere along the way in death. Society expects these stages from us, but why do we have to feel like we have to conform to it?

More and more I’m peeling that skin of pressure off myself until it is becoming less and less important to conform to the wishes of others,  so that the me I want to be is my outer skin and not pictures of me that others want to see. Three words so simple they seem impossible to fit the complications of real life but if I could just live in the heart and soul of ‘let it be’.

 I have faith in that higher force, energy, fate, God, the universe whatever you want to call it that there is a point way off in the future that I’m supposed to get to and that there are so many ways and paths to get there that it really doesn’t matter if I stumble, trip and fall along the way or skip with elegance and grace from one step to the next. If I’m supposed to get there one day then I will and everything in between is a beautiful chance and a guide to experiencing everything in its fullness and ripeness- the disappointments, the anger, the laughter and the exploding moments of pure life- are all part of it so that, when I arrive at that metaphorical or real point on the horizon I’ll be ready for it. Equipped with all the shades of life from the grey to the neon brights oozing from my every pore filling me with a complete readiness for that point when it all comes together one day and makes sense in a way it never could now.

Maybe, I am progressing too slowly down the path that society expects of us.  I can see the bricks that my parents, school and university have laid down for me, starting points, but they end and I’m starting to put down my own direction. A hope is bounding through me because they end at a wide and limitless horizon-no limits unless I put them there. What more could I want than this start, this preparation, it is almost the yellow brick road of Dorothy fame, bright and solid with so much hope and promise built into it but what am I going to do with this golden start?

I’m poised with my trough and brick looking in all directions and thinking which way? I want to make waves in this world, in people’s minds and to be a person who does good. I worry less because I have a quiet certainty that I’ll get to wherever it is supposed to be in the end. And with that thought a weight of expectation is cast down and I’m free to bound on.

There have been disappointments but I’m steadily learning to not let them wear on me for long because it is all part of it and it will pass and from it I will learn. They are such small specks in the painting of my life, a few crumbled bricks out of 100’s of other solid ones on this journey of mine. Before I would have faltered at the crumbled brick, tripped and fallen down and wallowed in being down for a while and then slowly and reluctantly returned to my feet cursing the world for being unfair but now my foot is catching on it and moving on.

I want my path to be papered over with pages and pages of writing, littered with words so that my journey, complete with all I encountered and felt, can be known by others and wisdom passed on. How wise one must be at the end of a full life and what a waste, for that learned and experienced wisdom to die with them instead of being passed on to help somebody else along their way. This is surely why we write and why we read. So I am ready to bound ahead, even if the bounding is sometimes made of tiny steps, I’ll get there in the end and know it worthwhile if I have lived wisdom to pass on.