Επφάνεια 2

When I returned, the same calm descended. It was serene. So it is, that this corner of suburban south London has taken me completely by surprise. It never occurred to me that an artbritary new place, or any place for that matter, could conjure up the same magical feeling I’d had in a different place, hundreds of miles away and over half a hundred years ago. That one place could unlock the lived experience of another, opening me up to so many happy memories.

Previously.
I find an alleyway between terraced houses, I venture along there and find myself in a neglected garden flanked by tall trees on one side. It’s early on a Sunday morning, so no one is about. I sit on a bench, I am alone. A wood pigeon and crow simultaneously call in unison. In an instant, I am called back to Owston, to Grandma Kiv’s, to the vivid feeling of being in the woods, truly at one with nature and connected forever. I find this place outside and in, where spirit child in me lives. Returning the freedom and long lost feelings of safety. Grandma is watching, reminding me, guiding me home.

A perfect blue

I spent a good part of the day taping around the edges in no 4. The hall, the dining room and stairs.

I took lunch on the Veranda then later on my afternoon break I ventured into the garden, sat myself on the earth, in the warm afternoon sun. At first, sitting there, I struggled with the brightness, then vivid spears of green, delicate and slender emerged from the shadowy background. It was a magical moment.

Stretching back into the longish grass, I gazed up, through the gap created by tree leaves and the side of the house , into heavenly blue, perfectly clear sky.

Far far above a tiny arrow shape moved across The Above whilst I lay on The Below, connected, present and in awe at the beauty. Everything else melted away. It was a moment . I was born to be outside. I was restored to my home.

My prayer has found me

Cynthia introduced me to ‘The Lotus and The Lily’ by Janet Connor. Cynthia was finishing up her mandala and had posted it on Instagram. I was curious. Cynthia is a person to trust, being a true voice in the scheme of things. Always holding heart and space for women’s creativity, she walks her talk.

The process of going through ‘The Lotus and The Lily’ was a revelation. There are so many syncroncities to become aware of. I can’t remember if ‘The Lotus and The Lily’ came before yoga and meditation practice but it all happened around the same time and has changed my life.

Why? Because it introduced me to prayer. Because it deals with Buddhism and Christianity, it uses teachings from these faiths, not a singular dogmatic message. This aligns with my sensibilities, as personally I believe that ‘God’ , The Universe, or ‘The Higher Power’ is ‘One Thing’ only, bigger than we can ever comprehend and that the various world religions are human/regional interpretations of One God.

Just as we need food to eat, each locality produces its own cuisine according to ingredients available. And just as how food culture has criss crossed over the world, we eat a diet from a variety of influences, so too has the message of spirit. The essence of each is the same, the rules of each is the same. It’s how we use it.

My prayer has found me. To break some hidden taboo that permeated into my life unseen. To be allowed to pray, to be free to pray, not a secret thing. And I’ve noticed that most faith practices pray kneeling, sitting, genuflecting. It seems that to get to heaven you have to humble yourself and connect with the earth on which you rest. The earth that provides you with food.

If you are interested in cultivating your creativity and /or your spiritual practice I recommend checking out :

Cynthia Morris – Artist, Writer, Creativity Coach at Original Impulse

www.origialimpulse.com

‘The Lotus and The Lily’ by Janet Connor

https://janetconner.com/books/

Detective

Journaling and personal detective work pays off. It unearths ‘The Truth’ that has buried you in a lie

Keep going with your words, keep inquiring, keep learning, open your heart, access your truth. For it is true, the Truth shall set you free. Free from fear.

Over the years, I have learned that establishing a regular prayer and medition practice, yoga, stitching meditation is to learn to belong to self. To have these habits in place, makes you feel at home in your own mind and body. They make you happy and being happy is empowering. These habits are portable and can be practised anywhere. Regular actions to support your day and your being .

To learn to align with chakra energy and crystal vibration alongside yoga and meditation, is to is to learn about grounding. Which is to literally feel where you body makes contact with the earth / solid ground. And when in this state of being, is to belong to the here and now.

Hope Street

She arrived at Hope Street, smiling

She left that Place, shamed

The white man trigger, fired

‘If it was up to him’ he’d said

‘He wouldn’t let her in ‘

No one looking out, for her ( or anyone else ? )

No understanding eyes

On a reactive path

Set up to fail

The white man trigger, holding the gun

The white man abuser, hating difference from himself

The white man

The white man pattern repeating itself.

La Herradura

Why I didn’t take photos of the place, I really don’t know. The scattered upturned chairs, unswept leaf ridden place did not resemble the ‘Boutique Hotel’ photos. There was just a phone number on the locked doors that I couldn’t access because the phone connection that was promised in the UK, was not working.

I made my way up the steep winding road lugging my suitcase behind me, to check if I’d made a mistake with the details. Along the way were pretty well kept dwellings, and I got a clear view down to the hotel’s unkempt terraces. Right at the top was a long track leading to a solitary house. This was placed much further back than I recalled on google maps so I turned back. On the return I ventured down a little cul de sac to the left of the road but no joy. A lady came out of her house and asked me something that I didn’t understand. ‘Dondé esta ‘La Tartana’ por favor? I query. I think she’s been asked this question before. She points to the original place. I go back and sit on the bench and try my phone again. Nada. Niente. And not a soul in sight. I have nowhere to stay. I’m not hanging around here.

As I arrive at the main road, I see a lady leave an apartment block on the other side. I ask her for help. I’m glad to have learned a few Spanish phrases at this point. She starts pointing and explaining. On seeing that I don’t understand, leads me down some steps, then onto a bridge over what looks like a dry river bed. We approach some arched metal gates set into the wall, they’re closed and locked too. I’m wondering where I’m going to sleep tonight. She is talking to me but her words are too fast for my novice ears. We back track and she leads me round the corner, to a road side entrance, which is also closed and no one is about. Eventually a lady emerges from within. The two women exchange words and Gloria, my new Spanish friend indeed, leaves me with the hotel proprietor. Her hotel is full. I’m becoming a little disorientated now. But….she has an apartment I can rent. She goes to collect keys and we step a few paces along to another road side entrance, up marble stairs, to view it. It is dark. It seems it has been closed up for winter and that she is opening up the space especially for me to use. There are lots of closed doors. I’m wondering to if anyone else is in here. Sensing this, the lady tells me it’s all for me. The apartment reveals itself to be spacious, I have a choice of bedrooms, I am given the breakfast times, we agree on the price. I gratefully accept her offer.

I thoroughly recommend La Pensión in La Herradura Andalusia. The accommodation is very clean, comfortable and stylish , the breakfasts are generous. It’s a short walk to the beach. And most of all because Delia is a wonderful, kind host.

Ψυχή – Soul

Tender hearted. Cabbage heart, a strawberry heart. A whole heart loving and true. My heart. That beats like a drum a with a walking beat. Erika Badu. We listened to her songs, a couple of them, whilst sitting on the log under the trees with the moon shining through the bare branches. The sky was clear, people still in the park. Simone singing along, which was so beautiful. I love her voice. It’s tender and strong. It comes from another place. The first time I heard her sing, she stood around the corner of the kitchen as she felt so shy. I was amazed and moved by the Spirit running through her.

Save the Day

Walking – Thinking – Walking – Thinking

Each step walk, each step think.

a walking meditation, excercising the muladhara,

Connecting with earth and soft mud.

Avoiding the squelchy parts that have been invaded and trampled over. Grassy verges have turned grey brown, new paths forged. Smooth flattened earth. A flash of dusty pink, a jay landing on a branch then hopping across to another. Nature saves the day.

So what do you do when your shadow side darkens your day? When ugly thoughts, uncomfortable feelings, take hold, that kind of thing ? Do you even know what to do ? Have you got it covered, able to shrug it away ?

Here’s what I did. I journaled it, I went for a walk, a little journey. Arrived at a point when I actually took stock, able to look deeper at the story hiding in the shadows of the the shadow. The thing behind the surface darkness. A mysterious place and not in a good way either. whilst the surface reactions are not very nice, the hidden story is one that requires honesty, self questioning and a lot of digging.

” Why am I thinking this ? Why is my body energy kicking in, nerves jumping up and down? Is it an ego thing or is it about self esteem or both ? Are they one and the same thing ?” At any rate the shadow side has a message and a teaching within. When I’m brave enough and decide to honestly confront my own self, truth will emerge. I can know what it is that irks me so. However unpalatable. To ask for grace, learn and move on.

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