Our Move To The UK

We are now in the advance stages of our move to the UK. We’re leaving in about two weeks time. Our preparations are at a peak and demanding a tremendous amount of time. I’ll be signing off for a while and will see you all again once we’re settled in London. I reckon about a month. Look forward to posting and exploring your blogs from London. Thank you for all the good wishes and affirmation. I’ve appreciated it immensely. See you all soon – the adventure begins. :-)

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The Small Things I’ll Remember

Strange how in our getting ready to move it’s the small things that seem to make an impression. Just looking at this tap in our garden the other day, I couldn’t help but think of the many times I’ve turned it on and off and how the water from it has fed our garden with life and colour. I know the day is coming when I will turn it on and off for the last time and never do that again, nor ever see it again, accept in memory. I took a photo of it and it’s now part of the collection of photographic memories I’m building up before we leave for the UK.

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Being Drawn

Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.

 – Rumi

At my age, I must confess,  it comes down to about being drawn by beauty in all its forms.Therefore it has much to do with being drawn into deeper ways of seeing. I’ve discovered that nurturing the “being drawn to” in life has a profound sense of freedom about it. Exertion begins to fall away and is slowly replaced by a natural attraction and movement. To be able to live and move in this sphere of  “natural attraction” also has a wonderful peace about it.
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Extracts From My Journal – 3

I woke up this morning to the sound of sweeping, rhythmic and soft on the ears. There’s something soothing and almost archetypal about the sound. Strange how most gardeners here in our country, when unsure of what to do, inevitably reach for a broom and start sweeping. Perhaps the act of sweeping is an outer expression of that deep need in the human spirit to clear away and restore. Whatever it is I enjoy waking up to its gentle, yielding and almost whispering tone.

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Spoiling a Good Walk

golf-656340_640I’ve been watching the Masters and saw Jordan Spieth’s magnificent record-breaking win at Augusta. Quite incredible. What a win!

Now this may sound a little off-beat, but being a walker, not a golfer, I’m often attracted to the actual walking in golf itself, especially those moments when the golfers purposefully stride out with their caddies behind them struggling to keep up. There’s a kind of magic in those steps. When I see them it’s as if a wand is waved over me and I just want to get up and walk. But what spoils it for me is the way these walks are marred by the stress and the tension and the competitiveness of the game.

So, whenever I watch and enjoy a game of golf, I can’t help but sit there and hear the subliminal voice of Mark Twain, “Golf is a good walk spoiled. ”   :-)

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Extracts From My Journal – 2

Now that we have made the decision to leave the country, I’ve noticed that my experience of my surroundings has become intensified. I seem to be seeing deeper in to the beauty of things which in turn is creating a deeper sadness about leaving. Not easy. Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t a bit like that intensified seeing a terminally ill person develops as they prepare to leave this world? To say that sounds rather trite and insensitive, but dare I say there may just be a tiny spark of similarity. Is my leaving not an approaching death of some sorts? I would think so.

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Sky Political Debate

I watched the Sky Political Debate as the various parties shared what they stood for in the coming British elections. Leaders of seven of the parties took part in this debate. Many felt it was too much and that the debate would be watered down, but for me it was a triumphant show of multi-party democracy.

What struck me was how the decision to have most of the parties represented led to a more wholistic picture of the British political landscape – a classic example of more perceptions providing a more truthful picture of what is going on and what needs to be done.

The highlight was the number of women leaders who took part and their amazing impact on the debate. One was left with the thought – please, more women in politics.

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From My Sketchbook – 36

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I worked here with ink and pencil.

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Thinking Spots

Diana whose blog I follow over at talktodiana.wordpress.com took us on a little walkabout pointing out, by means of photos, significant places in her city. What I really warmed to in the post was a photo of a bench beside a river which she called her “Thinking Spot” a bench where she obviously does a lot of thinking and reflecting. To me the term was so natural, simple and delightfully secular, no place of great spiritual epiphany, just an ordinary loved “thinking spot” in the midst of life. I like that. I really do.

I’ve been on the move for most of my life and in that moment as I read her post I was taken back to all my “Thinking Spots,” rivers, mountains, gardens, parks, forests and a myriad of other places, places where I lay down, where I stood, where I sat and where I simply walked,  places where I thought about things, where I thought about what I was thinking about, where I watched myself thinking, where I changed my thinking and where I simply allowed or tried to allow my thinking to cease. Soon I’ll be saying  goodbye again to my existing thinking spots and will have to find new ones in a new country. It’s sad, but that said, I’m also filled with new anticipation and joy.  Thank you Diana. :-)

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A Memory

I was given a memory today of work I had done some thirty years ago. As my thoughts were carried back to those events, I saw a young, energetic and glowing idealist launching out in to the unknown and working with such fervour, that it looked as if he would go up in flames at any moment. Today, having experienced the uncertainties and the struggles of life, I find myself in that ghostly realm between idealism and realism not quite sure which one to hold on to. Perhaps it’s both. That certainly sounds more realistic and whole, but I must confess there are times when I hear the whispers of that glowing young person and I want to take his hand and launch out with him again.

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