Showing posts with label the past. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the past. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 January 2022

Being in yourself

In the moment, just being, awareness, awakened, in the now, in the present, fully conscious . . . there are many terms for this state we all, or possibly not all of us, experience at regular or regular intervals. I think I've blogged about this before but it's lost somewhere in a blog backlog - nice tongue twister! (red lorry, yellow lorry) anyway, meditation having become more prominent in my life over the last couple of years requires further feature in my ramblings.

I usually find a twenty minute spot during the day - it works best for me in the morning after writing, but can be at anytime - in place of flipping through a stack of thumbed magazines in a waiting room/ phone scrolling, or after a frustrating call to sort some tedious piece of bureaucracy when the mind needs a sense of reality. Anytime, even five minutes to listen inwards, feel one's body doing its miraculous continuous activities and stop any futile overthinking.

I do use recordings, and favour the voice of Sarah Raymond from the Mindful Movement; a clear and gentle voice. I tend to stick to her videos which have emphasis on breathing and mindfulness and with little or no music rather than the more instructive and personal development type ones. 

Two phrases of hers that always stick with me are: living between your thoughts, and you may find you notice more. The former is a valuable line of words to carry about in the head especially in stressful times. The latter is certainly true. I always was a cloud/bird/tree gazer but now, through practicing meditation regularly, even more so, happy to walk locally and find continual amazement in the small and overlooked details of nature doing its thing without our interference. Unfortunately there's a lot of interference in our particular stretch of countryside with fields of one-use plastic mini-tunnels, which brings me onto the subject of acceptance - something often talked about in meditation and of which I am trying to practice as it's true it does make for a much easier and more pleasurable day-to-day 'life experience'.

So, how much does one accept? The past and its stories of events and times that may feel hard to accept, an obvious one to work on; the way other people function, accepting that they may do things differently to oneself, yep, certainly reduces the small and unnecessary pressures and irritations which are so readily present if we let such things bother us. What about the bigger things? Like the one-use plastic and general ravaging of our countryside for winter salad that I know most French folk push to the side of their plates. If I do nothing and everyone else does nothing it will get worse, more hedges cut, habitats destroyed etc. So, I've gone ahead and made enquiries, contacted environment bodies and it's worked so far in that a keen sounding young man is coming to look at our immediate surroundings and add our complaints to the many others he is apparently receiving.

In a highly turbulent and worrying time, which is probably pretty much the entire history of mankind, I feel meditation could and possibly should have a place in everyone's lives. On another plus side, it costs nothing, unless you go on a fancy retreat, and often feels like the mental equivalent of a relaxing massage, and personal reboot for those muddy-minded times.  




Friday, 24 January 2020

The past uncovered

And only because the garage flooded.
Mark went in there yesterday to get his bike out and came back hurriedly, face pale: 'catastrophe!' It was as unfortunately a lot of his music stuff was in there and is now fairly saturated. The other things that got part-submerged were folders of artwork - nothing valuable monetarily just artworks from ours and child's respective pasts.
Staring at my own sodden photographs, drawings and paintings I was seized with the urge to bin it all, so I did, holding back on a few things for . . . what? Nostalgia? we never look any of the folders' contents. Maybe it's just a certain security in knowing our pasts are there should we ever need physical reminders.
Mark's still going through his stuff and the purge-frenzy is not happening; most of it is laid out in front of the fire slowly crinkling into parchments from the 70s and 80s. Ezra's (son) art from age of four or so are more difficult to bin even though most of the pictures have leached into strange unintentional renditions of the aurora borealis. I've kept quite a lot especially the ones with surreal titles such as:
'very special piano and some chocolate,' a landscape with a tiny lawnmower, ' and 'a bus stop and people waiting at a bus stop and an acorn cup.'
Other casualties of the flood were all my documentation of the Wirksworth festival back in the early 90s; something I was very involved in for several years. Again, do I need all this anyway? Ezra won't want it when we've shuffled off this beleaguered planet. I've dried a few mementos and the rest of it's gone to the dump, the images of the actual event still fresh in my mind.
Possibly the best thing to do is document some of it, put it on a blog and make it into a book - which I did do with the last ten year's worth of life-recording. Yes, think I'll do that.
So, a few pictures.



Some of the rescued stuff before investigation



Drying. From the left: one of Mark's from Secondary school, one of my Beasti paintings  (Alfi Beastie's, Don't Eat That' book) something me and Ezra did when he was titchy, and another Ezra painting.

                        

                          A pencil drawing I did on art foundation. No idea who it was.



A later Ezra work - about fourteen?



A cartoon of our Geography teacher for secondary school rag. I can't recall his name now.