Succinct – Word of the Day
Things, being things, are ever complex,
nothing so simple as true.
Our lives are like Ypres,
all wire and craters,
the ever defended self.
with forgettable passwords,
ever commanding, forever shifting.
Deceptive matrices of gloom,
where anxiety reigns
over pixelated doubts.
The neighbours arguing,
The light was left on at the front.
Well, someone must pay,
this is serious (of course)
and irresponsible to the trees.
The choreography of life,
cat’s in the cradle gone wrong,
the twine’s all over the place.
Yet in the eye of this storm
we’re calm brevity,
as love is spoken without words.
Filed under life, love, romance
via Daily Prompt: Noise
Nightfall just south of Marla (South Australia) so peaceful, the silence is powerful.
I often think of noise differently. I often hope my silence is noisy, as a sense of presence, a calm, so that my silence shouts to the world – there is another way. I was once in a contemplative space and someone interrupted the silence some of us were enjoying, and I quipped, sarcastically, “Is my silence interrupting your noise?” Sometimes silence isn’t noisy enough to grab other people’s attention so that they can see it, feel it, and know it. There are times I hope it is an example, as we say of meditation, we hope our non-reactive silence is helpful and calming. Remember the old saying: “Actions speak louder than words.”
With the noise of deadlines, electronica, health issues, discord, celebrations, shopping centres, busy roads, bustling streets, the jarring noises of life can be debilitating, energy sapping. But silence is a worthy noise. Silence is a contempative stance, a space to claim against the heft of noise, and a place to rejuvenate. It is pleasant work, and it is work because you have to work hard to make the time for silence, and to stick at it. But is work that is deeply invested in your health, body, mind and soul.
And silence is the only space in which we can meaningfully hold ourselves and others with an ear to empathy and compassion. I personally find my reflective and contemplative practices increase my ability to empathise, and to compassionately engage with others. For me an investment in silence is the best noise to engage with.
via Daily Prompt: Silent
Since the late 1980s I have been a meditator. I have enjoyed several forms, but mainly across Christian and Buddhist ways of meditating. In the end I have stayed within my own tradition and using a Christian form – the method explored by John Main. Labyrinth is another form, and walking meditation I find helpful, and not least bush walking or hiking. But whatever the method, the goal is silence, not an external silence, of course, but a deep inner silence, a peacefulness, a sense of internal unity. It is the closest to a tangible sense of integration. For me there are real experiences of calm that last long after a session, and encounters with emotion, necessary unburdening as the unconscious is loosened and long buried things can be faced. Strangely, I have a strong sense of unity with others within the corporate silence, so that even in a room full of meditators there is connection.
I find I can meditate almost anywhere, but the bush is my special place for meditation, I find that it is already offering a form of silence unencumbered. The photo shows one of my former haunts, Billyacatting Rock near Nungarin. I was based not far from there for a few years, and on my long drives through that district I would take a break and walk and climb the rocks, arriving at a quiet spot, perhaps to sit by a rock pool or gnamma hole and meditating for a time. The wind and the birds were a welcome backdrop. Best thing I ever did, the silence was healing and energising, and was a lasting inner silence.
via Daily Prompt: Launch
Sometimes even the sheer effort can be daunting, all the prep, all the organising and the getting there, but once launched, it’s really worth it. There’s something really meditative about kayaking, the smell of the water, salty downstream, brackish upstream. There’s plenty for the eye to rejoice in, dolphins, stingrays, King George Whiting, black swans and a host of birdlife (some migratory). There are sounds too, birds calling, wind rustling vegetation. And there’s the sound of the water lapping on the side of the kayak, and the sound of my paddle as it divides the water and pushes. But it is not overly intrusive, the kayak is gentle on its surrounds, respectful of nature. The fish and birds come close, they trust the quiet nature of this vessel, and so do I, it is an invitation to presence and calm, even stillness (which is not an absence of movement per se). When I launch the kayak, I launch into something too, something deep.
Filed under kayaking, nature