I must Remember That everything happens in this moment and What I do and How I am being In this moment Will always affect My next moment.
Anything that anyone does or is That creates reaction in me Can only do so and be that way If I have that active in me – I must be resonant with it, On some level, In that moment.
If I react, it doesn’t make me a bad person Nor does it make me a failure My emotions are an important part of me They let me know when I am out of kilter With myself It is only my harsh judgement that Cements the experience.
I must Remember to Allow All my feelings.
I must Remember My humanness I am here Purely for the experience of It.
I must Remember When I am in acceptance of All of It Just as It Is That is when Contrast Becomes so much fun
I must Remember too I have been this many times.
I must Remember That everything happens in this moment and What I do and How I am being In this moment Will always affect My next moment.
Yesterday I was clever so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself. Rumi
This quotation is one of my favourites – short and to the point!
I spend many years fighting everything, building a bigger soap box, wanting to change things, people, the world!
It wore me out and nearly drove me insane.
When I reached the point, on the cusp of madness or genius, the lightbulb lit up, bright and clear.
At that point, on that cusp, so finely balanced, lay wisdom and I realised that the only way I was going to change my world was by going within and changing myself.
Out of breath and quite tired now, she had finally reached the pathway.
“Had she remembered it accurately?” she wondered.
It was so long ago now, almost 10 years!
She paused to get her breath back.
Then, standing quite still, she breathed in the earthy aroma.
“Pure heaven scent.” She said aloud to herself.
Then breathed it in again and again, indulging in the effect of the scents of spruce and pine, rotting wood and vegetation, a mustiness that clings to insides of the nostrils and almost takes your breath away if you breathe too deeply.
The breeze was gentle, making a soothing hiss as it wound its way through the branches and needles.
With each breath, memories came flooding back.
The odd tear of compassion and joy rolled down her cheek as she indulged in times forgotten – until now.
“I suppose I had better see if I can find it. It’s going to look quite different now.”
She began to move along the path. Her senses heightening as the memories continued to flow. Her heart quickening in her chest, part in anticipation, part in trepidation.
“I do hope I can find it after all this time,” she whispered to herself.
Then….. there was a crack of a twig being snapped and a loud rustling noise coming from up ahead in what looked like a thicket.
She stood quite still.
A multitude of thoughts bombarded her mind. Her heart racing and breath quickening, she tried to breathe more quietly, hoping she was invisible whilst at the same time readying herself to run.
Then out of the undergrowth a young man fell to the ground with a thud and a cry of pain.
She stared at him, momentarily frozen to the spot.
Should she run, or go and help.
Glaringly aware she was alone, her mind told her to run.
But somewhere deep inside another voice was heard telling her to stay. Wait, reassess in a moment.
She checked how she felt, then how the young man felt to her. He didn’t feel bad.
Then he noticed her.
He looked startled, frightened, embarrassed.
He went to get up and winced.
He’s twisted his ankle.
“Damn, what a fool I look, he inwardly chastised himself. Typical, had to do it in front of an audience!”
He saw the look on her face.
He spoke.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”
“Have you hurt yourself?” she asked.
“Only a slightly twisted ankle,” he replied, suppressing the excruciating pain.
“My name’s Alasdair, Alasdair MacPherson,” he said struggling to his feet and brushing off the undergrowth that had wrapped itself around him.
“I’m Katie Stewart,” she replied, still remaining at a safe distance.
The name seemed to trigger a reaction deep within, she repeated it over in her head. A vague recollection of a face drifted across her mind.
“Was this the same person? There were slight similarities. But then we can always see what we want to see. Must approach this logically,” she thought to herself.
“Katie Stewart? Not the Katie Stewart. From Drumbeg?”
“Yes, that’s me. How do you know me?”
“Well, we were both at school with Charlie Henderson. Remember. We used to skive off school and come up here to hide.”
“Yes, I remember you now.”
“It’s nearly 10 years since Charlie had to leave Scotland when his parents emigrated to Australia. And 9 years since my parents moved to Edinburgh.”
“Have you lived here all that time?”
“No, I moved to Edinburgh too, but 6 years ago.”
“Have you come here today for the same reason I have?” she asked, hoping that it was.
He chuckled, “Maybe,” a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
A rush of excitement rippled through her. This could be an even better experience than she had anticipated.
They stood in silence, watching each other’s body language and sensing each other’s reactions.
“Did you find it then?…..Before you fell into a thicket!” she added with a touch of friendly sarcasm in her voice.
A momentary flicker of embarrassment washed over his handsome face. He checked it quickly.
But he couldn’t maintain his composure and a smile burst forth that gave the game away.
“You have!” she sang excitedly.
“Where?”
“Come on it’s just through here.”
He led the way.
A few hundred feet and there it was……
….. A magnificent spruce tree stood before them towering over 10 feet tall. And flapping in the breeze, way up near the top branch was the orange ribbon (what was left of it) that they had tied to it almost 10 years ago.
They stood there, in awe of its beauty. Each reliving their own memory of the day they planted it and how they’d promised to meet up 10 years later.
Alasdair broke the silence.
“This deserves a celebration, don’t you think?” He looked at Katie enquiringly, inside hoping she would agree.
“Yes, I think it does.”
“I wonder if Charlie’s remembered?” they both thought to themselves.
I pondered the question for a while as I couldn’t immediately connect with an answer. All the while having thoughts that I have a vague idea that I must have written about this in the past, but am still no wiser, really, as to why I write.
So I went in search, to find out if I had broached the subject before and was curious to know, if I had, how had I perceived the question then?
Since then, I have completed, actually completed a full course. No missed days! With poetry, which I hasten to add I simply loved (apart from the moments I wondered why I was striving so much to have a go at some definition of verse I had never heard of let alone try to emulate!) and hadn’t really written anything of that ilk for many years.
So, why do I write? I enjoy it, thoroughly enjoy it, when I finally make the decision to be present in this moment and just do it.
I suppose it is a way of just being in the moment. I am nowhere else. I am here, now and I have no desire to be anywhere else. My focus is no longer scattered about the place or rattling about in my over analytical mind. It just very easily settles in a happy groove and there it is content to stay, at least for a wee while.
I have noticed that over time and practice, it is becoming easier to slide into that groove. In the beginning I seemed only happy to be in it for a short period of time, how long I have no idea in quantifiable time. But sitting here now, writing this I am now noticing that that length of time I am happy to flow in the groove has become more elongated and consequently I have written some longer pieces.
Ultimately, if I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t do it and it is becoming a fun journey of self discovery, self acceptance and self appreciation.
And I am loving it!
My love for you a gift All wrapped with tender care Requiring no conditions Rules we have to share Yield to me my darling Melt all wrapping away Eternally and forever Beyond my dying day
Future? The word still holds a residue of unease. A programmed response I know but it is still creating a reaction.
As a child I was bombarded with the word. It seemed everything depended upon it. I on the other hand, had other ideas. I was too enthralled by the Present to be concerned with a future.
But, true to form, with persistence and punishment, I came to understand that the world around me valued it more than the Present. So I began the long and painful process of trying to shoehorn my expansive perspective of life into the limited one – the only one acceptable to all around me.
Little did I know then, that all along my perspective had been totally the ‘right’ one for me!
It has taken years to come full circle, to return to myself, but it has been a thoroughly interesting journey up to now.
As for the future ….
I shall continue to write more.
Stopping every now and then to gaze into the skies, up a tree, in the grasses, listen to the birds and ….
I need to find somewhere to live.
So I shall enjoy the searching, the plotting and the planning.
Remembering that it’s a fun journey and allowing it all to unfold, in its own way, in its own time.
But more than anything I shall remember to value myself and my perspective beyond all else.
Remembering that the opinions of others are interesting and sometimes valuable but ultimately, the only person who really knows what is right for me is me.
And the only way I know how to do that is by allowing myself to be Present in this moment, in my life right Now.
I didn’t get the opportunity to partake of Day 11. I was busy with the joys of moving house. But I would like to share one of my favourite blog posts with you.
What struck me initially was the energy that jumped out at me when I opened it the first time. One of quiet. Centredness. Very Zen. A joy to connect.
Some of the images are delightful but most of all are the poignant quotations. There are so many quotations out there these days but most of the ones on Aditix are in line with my own perspective and it is a joy to discover someone else out there with a similar outlook.
If we were having coffee right now we would probably be discussing the quality of the coffee. Being a decaf drinker but still liking my coffee to be a stiff drink, I would be giving you my take on its taste and aroma.
If we were having coffee right now I would be sharing with you my joy of the weather we are having. How it brings back cherished memories of other Septembers when the weather was similar and we were all having fun haymaking.
If we were having coffee right now we would be chatting about how my packing is coming along and whether I am still calm and organised or beginning to quake under the strain. We would be discussing ways we would keep in touch with one another when I move and when I would be likely to return to visit.
If we were having coffee right now I would be enthusing about my imminent move and what my plans were for my immediate future. We would chat about what you were going to do with your time over the coming winter months and ways you too could move to a warmer climate.
If we were having coffee right now we would be looking out of the window watching the tourists wandering aimlessly around and chat about the impending quietness the end of season brings.
Land of Images 