Life changes

Because I watch hardly any TV, in my blog you're unlikely to find playground chat about what was on the box last night. However, I like to listen to the radio in between writing times and when I'm in the car. I always loved the story that Francis Edmunds -- founder of Emerson College in Britain -- used to tell with great glee. A little boy once confided to him, "I like listening to the radio rather than watching TV because the pictures are so much better!"

Yes.

Driving to fetch my husband from the car pool parking lot on Sunday, I heard a discussion on and some of the music from 'Kiss Me Kate'. I saw this musical first as a stage play in London, England, and have adored it ever since. It's the two gangsters who really amuse me. I specially like the song 'Brush Up Your Shakespeare' as a way to whisper sweet nothings (Valentine's coming up soon).

The singer of a recently staged revival remarked how surprised he was at the audience response when he sang 'Where is the life I used to live?' So I've been thinking, surely that's because we can all relate to this in one fashion or another. Life is all about changes, small and big. Often, as my dear husband says, it's about letting go.

Nice Ice

My last post was about the 'fixing' of perception. This time I want to bring you the opposite -- something fleeting and ephemeral.

Winter can be harsh (like now), the wind biting, the outlook bleak. But it can also be very beautiful, not to mention breath-taking. What we see are the bare bones of trees, bright white of snow and... ice patterns.

Yes, I'm blessed with the wonder of these because we have, still, some old, unreplaced windows. And when the temperature dips to a certain number below freezing overnight, in the morning I walk into my kitchen and stand and stare.

My dear husband, the scientist, tells me that ice patterns form a crystal growth, not from liquid to frozen, but rather from water vapour in the air to frozen. He knows a brilliant research guy who claims the patterns will be affected by whether the household is a loving one, or an angry one, for example, and even by what's cooking (i.e. carrots will be different from cake)! Maybe the fact that I baked bread last night helped with this morning's gift.

Anyhow, I'm not satisfied with the science. It doesn't tell me enough. I mean, gas to frozen, is that all? What is the magical, artistic force that forms plant patterns, or delicate geometric designs, the one so organic, the other so precise? While I think further on etheric shaping forces in the universe I'll see if I can ask the authority... surely Jack Frost himself!

Super-real

How much brighter, more intense, more real it is to view a photo through a computer or TV screen. Almost, I'd say, super-real.

Totally by chance (I'm a techy-wuss) I put a sweet pic of my grandson gurgling up at his Daddy as my screensaver. I smiled when, through our modern technological magic, it appeared soon after booting up. My heart melted.

But after a while, I took it away, and went back to sky blue with a couple of white, cosmic swirls. Why? Because I realized this image was becoming too fixed in me. Instead of being able to slip into experiencing my grandson in my daily prayer and meditation time, that image appeared. It overrode any other experience, any subtler, more spiritual seeing.

In a way, I suppose this applies to any photos that I look at too often. And maybe that's why I have so few on display in our house. There's a small gallery of six frames in my study and that's it.

There's a link between image and imagination, of course. Both have to do with creativity, and my challenge is always to keep things in flow.

On the scale

This is a quick catch-up 'cos I've been away.

So, how'm I doing on the resolutions? On a scale of one to ten, I'd say maybe one and a half.... Well, at least I'm on the scale and not languishing at zero! I didn't imagine for one instant I'd have a perfect ten at this stage. And maybe that's why it's so easy to fail and give up on resolutions. We think we can accomplish instant change and improvements. As far as I'm concerned... no. Not going to happen. All I'm expecting is to begin the process, and that's what I've done. Yeah, I could have done better, but the thing is, I'm not giving up.

Three resolutions

"Only three?" you ask. "Yes, because all of these will be a reach and take effort," I answer. Still, I like to work in three areas: the practical, the psychological and the spiritual.
Seeing as it's the second week of January, you'll understand why number one has to be 'Don't procrastinate'. Already I know this is not going to be a quick fix. As has happened before, I'll likely have to carry it forward a few years.
How much angst would disappear from my life if I could manage not to put things off. I had a good example once. A friend from the west coast was visiting while she taught a class. When she came home, I told her, "So and so phoned for you and wants you to call back." "Oh," she said, "If you give me the number, I'll get my phone and do that right away." And she did.
Too often I wait, thinking, 'I'm busy/tired/thinking of something else/there'll be a better moment later.' What my friend did was to get it out of the way -- and set herself free from the back-of-the-mind hassle.
Number two, on the soul level, is this: I'm going to do my best to greet every morning with joy. As I grow older, I feel it's necessary to accentu-ate the positive, as the old song goes. The son of a dear, older friend who died a couple of years ago, told a story that's stayed with me. During his boyhood, the family lived in England. Think many gloomy, dreary days with heavy skies. Every morning, his mother used to prance into his bedroom, sweep open the curtains and sing out, "It's a lovely day!" And to the three brothers, it was.
On the spiritual level I'm going to practice the six exercises that lead to harmonizing and enhancement of the twelve-petalled heart chakra. I'll begin with the first and most important: control of thinking. To do this, I need to focus my mind on a simple object, say, a pin, for three minutes or so, not letting any other thoughts flutter in or by! Sure, sometimes I like my mind to lift and float, but it's very useful to be able to shut out unwanted thoughts when I need to.
Okay. Done that. Next comes goal-setting, but although I'll write those down, I won't blog them.

A festive Three Kings

We celebrated the 6th January, and the end of the Holy Nights, the traditional French way. We were invited to a festive dinner party, with numerous courses, in honour of Epiphany. The meal was crowned with a special cake, and in it had been baked a 'bean' -- actually a small plastic figure. The person who discovered the 'bean' in his or her slice would be the King or Queen of the evening, and would then choose a sovereign partner by slipping the 'bean' into that person's glass of champagne. And of course, there were crowns to wear.
Soon after we sat down at the magnificently caparisoned table, sparkling with crystal, silver and candles, the question came "Does anyone know what the names of the three Magi were?" Aha! a chance for me to show off. "Yes, I do," I said. They were Melchior, Caspar and Balthazar." But my brain decided to pay me back for my hubris when the next question came, "And which gift belonged to which king?" I knew I'd read this, but could not remember. So, for your info, dear reader, Melchior brought the gold, Balthazar brings frankincense, and Caspar the myrrh. I'm still mulling over the significance of those substances.
Anyhow, I had a niggling suspicion I'd get the bean, but no, I didn't. One of the male dinner guests had that privilege and chose me as his queen. Now, Brenda is the name the satirical English magazine Private Eye calls Queen Elizabeth the second, so I felt... I'm not sure what I felt. Maybe a certain royalty conferred up me (Yes!), but also a caution. As I grow older, I want to move with the times and not cling too much to how things were done in previous decades.
Side by side, the King and Queen sat for our photographic portraits to be taken. That was interesting, having a crown on our head. We had to sit straight and still because it was a slippery one, and tended to slide off and bite the carpet.
Next post we can revert to first person singular, which will be a relief.

Winter wonders

I have to admit, I'm conflicted about our unseasonally warm winter weather. Being one who hails from Southern climes, I'm thankful that my rheumatic fingers don't feel cold all day, and relieved to be able to go for a walk and not feel my feet slipping away from under me. It's a pity I never learned to skate or ski properly -- one of the regrets of my life. Could be worse, I know. But this morning, I was busy preparing our breakfast muesli, cutting up papaya (the southern climes thing again) and I found myself humming 'I'm dreaming of a White Christmas'. I think it was the Bing verson and not the Nat. This made me realize I feel unsettled. Somehow, this warmth doesn't feel quite right.
One of the Christmas gifts I received was the DVD of Al Gore's 'An Inconvenient Truth'. I'm still mulling over what my life would look like if I took the message to heart. Our daughter tells me the film has made a huge impact in England. Is this also true in North America, I wonder? Or, is this continent doing what I'm about to do as regards writing about this issue -- that is, put it off till another day?

Calendars and post cards

New Year greetings to you all.
Calendars and photos mark the measure of our days. Yesterday I took down the old calendars and hung up the new. We always have three -- one in the kitchen, near the phone; one in my dear husband's office, and one in my study. This year I bought a star-guide for the kitchen because I'm still hoping to become more familiar with these North American heavens. My dear husband gets beautiful landscapes in Provence because France is the country that always beckons us and still spells romance. Mine is a photo calendar of our English grandsons.
For the past ten years, I've made a family photo calendar to send to my mother at Christmas time. On my last visit she brought them out -- yes, she'd kept each one -- and we sat together and looked over them. So many memories came flooding back, so many smiles to see how we used to look, and I thought, 'What a great record'. Organization of the twelve is always a bit of a challenge. I often do a combination of the family member who has a birthday that month, or with something seasonal.
The trouble with my photos generally is that they accumulate. So, having enjoyed some very welcome breathing space during these Holy Nights, one evening I sat down to make up a couple of albums. That brought me to such a lovely, blessed mood. As I slid images of loved ones into plastic sleeves, I relived so many happy moments, reconnected with dear ones who live near and far away, although I keep them all close to my heart.
Today I'll clear the cork pin board. Take down the postcards we've received this year, and say a little 'thanks' to those friends and family who thought to send. And I'll wonder what wonders of the world will arrive to adorn my wall during the year.