Blogpost April 28th
Sometimes life fires a hard edged rock and you simply can’t dodge it. This past week or so has been punctuated by more than one such unwanted, unexpected missiles. A dear friend’s father died out of the blue and no one saw it coming. The loss is felt deeply. A relatively young man is gone; his bright smile no longer available to us. Another friend’s father – an older man in the UK – is in hospital fighting for his life. His struggle and the pain felt by my friend and her family is palpable. And there is nothing to do but surrender to the overwhelming fact that life is fatal. There is no get-out clause. Death and sadness are such a part of life’s rich experience, yet it surprises us every time they make themselves undeniably known. There is much to be said for constantly seeking out and creating delightful memories, cherishing each moment as it arises. Part of that memory making is measured in solitude, with the sure knowledge that some of life’s connections, chances and opportunities will no longer be possible in the here and now.
Other friends are experiencing traumatic health problems and partnership break-ups and are being pulled into the here and now by other extreme, life changing events. I know they will weather whatever changes come their way, as we all must do and come out the other side stronger for the experience, still my heart goes out to them. I know they would feel the same for me, that when times are hard they have my back. I feel incredibly fortunate to be in relative good health and thank my lucky stars that I am loved and appreciated by those around me. All is well all shall be well.
There was a wonderful article in this week’s e-newsletter from Brain Pickings about the transient nature of living and how that undeniable reality actually makes life totally amazing: You’ll find the article HERE.
I spent a wonderful hour in solitude last week en route back from Douglas to Kirk Michael and steered myself off the mountain road to be in the glorious late afternoon sunlight shining on Druidale. This special place is nothing more than a tiny little patch of beech trees, moss covered hills and a tinkling stream nestled below Snaefell, inhabited by a few grazing sheep and a bounty of beautiful songbirds. It was always a favourite place to come in my childhood and I fondly remember playing hide and seek with my sister and brothers; splashing each other in the clear, cold water of the shallow ford that once crossed the narrow road leading in and out of the tiny valley; or rolling down the soft mossy banks – a pure delight. I had my camera with me and took lots of photos of the tall straggly trees, many of them now leaning into one another for support, some of them uprooted by winter storms – more signs of the transient nature of life. It was a beautiful “moment” alone and I totally appreciated it. A few photos are on Flickr.
As for creative endeavours I’ve been trying to organise myself to be more proactive in a musical sense and still keep my rewriting in place. Lots of things to juggle and sometimes no head space to bring them together but in good time they will come into being. I’ve extended invitations to several songwriters to collaborate with in the next few months … including: Helen Watson; Richard Thompson; Michael Fix; Rob Laufer and more recently (yesterday!) Iain Matthews! All very exciting and the closer our diaries converge the more motivated I become. 🙂
This week’s video/song is an unfinished song that Paul Dodgson and I started a few years ago and haven’t had the opportunity to complete. It shows potential I think. The images are from my lovely, soul nurturing wander through Druidale’s delightful landscape.
Tonight (April 28th) I’m meeting friends to celebrate what would have been Katherine Crowe’s birthday. That people touch our lives so positively and then depart only adds to the poignancy of the now. We still love you Kath. How could we not?
Bless you for dropping by, I hope you know I truly appreciate it. Till next time.
Love, light, peace and joy!