Psyche Odysseys

From Jamie's diary: Change

This is an entry from Jamie's diary.  This forms part of the 'Words from the Windward Tree' collection of letters and entries.

Click here for the last installment.

Click here to go to the very first installment.

July 7

Coming back to Kwalaylee was the best thing I've done in a long time.  I got to lay to rest the ghosts that have haunted me for years.  Over the years, all the horrors I read about in the news, all the stories, have mingled with my childhood memories of chasing blue butterflies and playing in the sun, in the very places where people have lost their lives.

However, coming here has given each thought and memory its place.  There is so much hope here; people are rebuilding their lives.

Luke is not here though, I was told he went down to the city.  He's supposed to be back in a day or two.  I'm not going anywhere for the time being so we'll see.

I went to see the ruins of the hospital where I was born.  Hospital is a big word for it, more like a small office with 3 rooms next door.  But even that is gone.  There's no roof and tall grass growing everywhere.  At least the blue butterflies like it there.  It's all surreal.

I walked around it for a little while, deep in thought about all sorts of things.  I'm amazed that people say there's nothing new under the sun.  I think there's nothing old under the sun.  Every moment is new.  It's just that the eyes get used to things too quickly. 

The thought seemed like a tangent at the time but as I walked around the dusty ruins of the hospital, I was aware, more than ever before, of how much things change.  Maybe we don't see the change but it's there in every moment.  And every moment brings the opportunity to see things in a different light.  I guess at some point in my life, I fell into some sort of waking sleep, where I stopped believing I could make any difference to my life.  How wrong I've been.

The truth about enlightenment

The truth about enlightenment is that it's here and now and available to every being and creature everywhere, at any given time. The dichotomy of trying to achieve it it is that you cannot become what you already are.

The Absolute is there all the time should we drop our expectation of what it means. It is not reserved for monks and yogis. It's right here right now, anywhere, anytime. You need no prayers or invocations, no alchemical formulas or tests of endurance, no hours locked away with books of old, no moments lost in endless incantations to find it as it is what you are now.

All this might sound like a riddle but it's not. Its great simplicity baffles the mind which likes complicated processes. There is no process to get you there because you're there already, but your mind keeps you distracted with the very processes that are supposed to get you there.

In simple terms, awakening is not about reaching the pinnacle of existence. It's about witnessing the force that is existence.

The mind would have you believe that these words are rubbish, that you must be put through your paces to find enlightenment. That's normal, the mind fears for it's existence. So it offers its assistance to get you there but all that does is sidetrack you even more.

So what is it exactly? It's a great neutral and gentle silence that moves through everything, everywhere, all the time. Just be open to the presence that presents itself in everything. Whenever you find yourself being moved by a breathtaking view, or catch glimpses of peace and bliss, you touch upon it. However, the Absolute moves through everything, be it in a stunning sunset or eating a piece of cheese, or on the bus on your way home. Just let go of all your ideas about processes to get you there and open your mind; the invitation is ever present, and you will recognize it.

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10 Great Life Tips

Here are 10 Life tips that go a long, long way:

1. Question everything: don’t believe anything blindly. If a belief stops working for you, change it.

2. Now is all you truly ever have. It is a cliché, but it is one to remember because it is a great truth.

3. Don’t be quick to judge, and if you can, avoid judging it altogether. It’s easy to take sides by seeing only one side of a situation. It’s easy to jump to conclusions about people. How often do you find you reached those conclusions prematurely? Try and remember that when you jump the gun.

4. Being positive sometimes means saying no. Saying no to what is not right for you doesn’t mean selfishness. Saying yes to everything is not possible yet often, through a desire to be helpful and ‘spiritual’, people often fall into that trap. Say yes only if you really mean it.

5. Don’t take criticism personally. Sometimes there is truth in it. Take on board what you can and discard the rest.

6. Learn from the best. Or in other words, learn from the mistakes of others. If you aim for something, study the path of those who have done it well. Any new discoveries or improvements from you are a bonus.

7. Practice gratitude; take nothing for granted. A really small statement given how big a task it is. Appreciating everything you have is a conscious action and thought on your part, done on a daily basis. The more gratitude you express, the more gratitude you feel, and the more you focus on what you do have. Lack then becomes an alien concept.

8. Persistence is the key. See your plans through, no matter how small they are. Just imagine if every inventor had given up after the first try…

9. Love the simple things because they are indeed the most valuable. Glamour, fortunes, and artifice come and go. They can be created and recreated. A moment of true connection with someone you love cannot.

10. These principles will not all be true for everyone. Those of us who can spend our spare time ‘bettering’ our lives are privileged indeed. It’s good to remember that most of the people on this planet spend most of their time trying to survive, so if you don’t fall into that category, you’ve already got plenty to be grateful for. This is an area of debate for so many people as some might see it as patronizing. If that is how you see it, you have missed the point.

From Jamie's diary: Going back to Kwalaylee

This is an entry from Jamie's diary. This forms part of the 'Words from the Windward Tree' collection of letters and diary entries.

The previous instalment is the weblog entry before this one.

or click here to go to the very first installment of this series.

June 30

After receiving Luke's most recent letter, I've decided to return to Kwalaylee too. The war is over now and I am ready to go back. All these years, hearing all the awful news of people fleeing and people getting killed has been unbearable but it is time to go home. And Luke and I will be able to spend time together. I am going to surprise him though.

Reading his letter took me back. I remember the smell of earth when it rained, and how the heat rose in plumes of steam from the ground. I remember mama's herb garden, the smell of parsley and coriander, and spring onions. I remember so much, so much I remember I'm never too sure what to do with it all.
I'm glad to have this diary and writing to Luke as an outlet for these thoughts otherwise I think I would have gone a bit mad long ago.

Kwalaylee...I have missed it so much. Just a few hundred houses in the middle of nowhere but it meant the world to me. I have made travel arrangements already. I leave in three days. I can't wait.

Words from the Windward Tree: Luke goes home to Kwalaylee

A further installment of the correspondence between Luke and Jamie. Click here for the last one.

Or click here to go back to the first one.

Dear Jamie,

I'm sorry I din't get a chance to write to you before I left. I've been travelling and I've just arrived home, in Kwalaylee. It hasn't changed. The road is still red and dusty and there arent' any more houses than there were all those years ago. The roofs have holes in them, but people have come back and they've been fixing them.

I'm going to stay here for a while. I am sorry I didn't get to see you when you came to visit (your letters were forwarded to me) but I decided to leave on the spur of the moment. I missed you too. It's been difficult this change, this move. Sometimes I can't help but feel that I didn't make the best of our time together. With all the best intentions to enjoy the moment to its fullest, I somehow managed to slip and let it go.

But that's history. I've stopped trying to figure everything out. You and I are so much more than we would like to believe or imagine even. And just because we're apart now doesn't mean it's going to be that way always. We both needed this time to get on with other things, wouldn't you agree? I miss you too.

Don't worry about Clara not telling you everything, she's just getting on with her life, as you said. Do you remember the times we'd all sit around and complain about...just about everything? We laughed too, but all that energy we spent talking about nothing constructive... Can you imagine ever going back to that? I certainly can't. No one likes a moaner.

Being back in Kwalaylee after all these years is just wonderful. As I got nearer, I got that same feeling that we used to get when we were kids coming here all those years ago, that feeling of really coming home.

Of course, most of the people we once knew here are gone. In fact, they're all gone... But somehow, it still feels like home. The tall trees, and the mist in the morning, the rice birds, the smell from the palm kernel mill nearby, the twitching blue butterflies...it's all still here, despite the last few years of war. Fortunately that's been over for a while now.

Sometimes I can't believe that war ever happened, as though it were a long nightmare. But it did happen. I just can't believe how long it took for the world to come to the rescue. Help has come, even if it is only because there are rumours of untapped natural resources. Remains to be seen if the people here will benefit.

I've been talking to many Kwalayleeans. It's amazing how much they do with so little. It embarrasses me to think of the small things I've complained about when I see how much they cope with here and yet still have time for a genuine smile. Coming back has been such an awakening.

Jamie, look after yourself, and just get on with things. Remember the past but don't dwell on it: nothing will ever bring it back. We've still got so much to live, so many things to do!! And we're so lucky we can! Every moment is new, but it's up to us not to keep having the same tired old thoughts.

I love you. Today. Yesterday. Always. Don't ever forget it.

Luke

Words from the Windward Tree: about Clara, and on missing Luke.

A further letter from the correspondence between Jamie and Luke – Click here for the previous one.

Or Click here to go to the very first letter.

Dear Luke,

I haven’t heard back from you since my last letter. I wrote to tell you that I would be passing through really soon and was going to stop by and see you. I was in Robertstown a few days ago and came by your house a few times but you weren’t there. I presume that you’ve been away. Is everything alright with you?

I’m well. I still haven’t found the artifact. I have looked for it so many times that I’m pretty sure it’s lost for good. I don’t know what to make of that. Maybe next time you’re here, we could hunt for it together – it’s always good to have another pair of eyes when looking for something.

I went to see Clara recently. She’s been really busy the last few weeks and I’ve hardly seen her so it was good to catch up. She showed me the jeweled boxes she’s been making. They’re so beautiful – small filigreed silver boxes with chips of garnet, agate, rose quartz and other semi-precious stones. I think they should sell quite well.

It seems she’s also going to be teaching some of her metaphysical skills. She didn't tell me this herself but I saw some notes by the jeweled boxes and I caught a glimpse of a few lines. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I thought the notes were to do with the boxes. The lines I read described something to do with using jewels and dreams combined as personal divination tools but I’m not sure. I don’t know, she normally tells me about all her ideas but it seems she’s been keeping this one under her hat…

I feel distant from Clara. We don't spend as much time together anymore. She has really been getting on with things and she doesn't seem to have much time for me. I suppose I've been busy too. Maybe it's just a phase. Sometimes you think a friendship has really waned but before you know it, it picks up again, with greater vigour than before.

Since you left, I've made a lot of new social contacts and I suddenly find myself unable to see everyone as often as I would wish to. I think I've been spreading myself too thinly , so to speak. I think maybe I've been trying to compensate for your absence. We spent so much time together when you were here that when you left I felt lost. It's been months yet I haven't gotten used to you not being here. That's why I've tried to keep busy by being more sociable but perhaps that's no longer the best approach. Let's see each other soon, it has just been too long.

Anyway, I’m in better spirits than I have been for a while – long may it last!!

Please write back soon, I am anxious to have your news.

Love,

Jamie

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A thought on surrender: Inspiration from ‘Everyday Grace’ by Marianne Williamson.

For those who struggle to let go of the past, it is often a challenge to drop certain memories when they come up. Not long ago, I sold my car because it was becoming a financial burden. Every now and then though, I miss the car and I find myself thinking about it with longing and nostalgia, which makes me feel discontented and a bit sad.

This morning, coming in to work, as I was crossing the street, I had such a moment.
Lately, I’ve been reading ‘Everyday Grace’ by Marianne Williamson in which she explores faith, surrender, and miracles in every day life.

As I stood waiting for the traffic to stop so I could cross, I suddenly missed the times when I used to drive to work. But my head full of Ms Williamson’s wisdom, a thought occurred to me: surrender is the willingness to see the whole picture.

What I mean is that it’s easy to reminisce, and to fall out of the now moment, which is where life is only ever truly unfolding, but it’s vital to let go of that when it happens. In this instance, it’s not so much that there’s anything wrong with missing driving to work, but I had to be aware that I was looking at this situation from a very narrow viewpoint.

I sold my car because it was becoming more and more expensive to keep it. In the few months since it’s been sold, I’ve had more money for other things. I have felt, on the whole, less burdened: no road tax, residents parking fees, no parking fines, no petrol, car insurance, etc, etc.

Selling my car was not just a practical thing for me to do. It was also symbolic of major changes in my life in the last five years. The car stood for a lifestyle I could no longer afford; selling it was a necessary step in surrendering to what my life is now.

When the statement ‘Surrender is the willingness to see the whole picture’ came to my mind this morning, I instantly let go of missing the car. Instead, I allowed myself to see that I’d made a positive change in my life and that I’ve been reaping its rewards daily. And thanks to this situation, I was able to find a concrete and personal definition to the meaning of surrender.

Marianne Williamson is an international best selling author of many books on practical spirituality and an avid follower and voice of 'A Course in Miracles'.

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Infatuation, love, and fear

If, when you first meet someone their smile alone could power you doing 50 laps around a race track, you're a goner! You think of them every possible minute and every moment is a countdown to the next time you meet. And when you are together, you are litterally high. Your brain is in endorphin production overdrive, and everything feels like a dream.

In this heightened state of aroused awareness, 'I love talking to you' can easily be interpreted as 'I love everything about you'. One of you is bound to do that more than the other, and that's when disaster can strike. After all, if you're both initially acknowledging that you're feeling really attracted to each other, how can you not get carried away?

This happened to me just recently with someone I've been attracted to for years but never knew felt the same. We spent a weekend together and had a wonderful time, and we both felt we were connecting on far more than just a physical level. In the days that followed, we spent litterally hours on the phone. We even went out and I met some of 'the' friends. It all seemed to be starting off on the best possible note: neither of us had just come out of a negative relationship, or seemed to have any baggage, and we had both clearly expressed an openness to whatever may come.

But then our paths diverged. I suddenly found myself wondering when our next chat would be when just a few days before we had spent hours on the phone. I felt sad and disappointed as I knew that those first few silences signaled the end of a romance that was never going to be.

I reviewed conversations we had over and over again, wondering if I'd perhaps said too much or too little. Anyway, we did eventually talk. It soon became clear that we were seeing things differently from quite early on. While I saw this as a potential for great love, I was perceived as a potential for a great friend. 'Great...' I thought sarcastically when I was told that.

I have continued to analyze this situation on a deeper level. Of course I could just walk away from it and think 'well, it just wasn't meant to be'. But that's never going to give me any insight.

I think we both had our part to play in getting carried away; we were planning a romantic weekend away before we had even spent another evening alone togehter! That much we're both to blame for. That weekend plan was at the core of our divergence of ideas about where we were heading.

Looking back, the way I spoke about the weekend might have made it seem as though I had certain expectations about how the weekend should be, especially on an intimate level. However, all I ever really wanted out of that weekend was just to spend time together.

And also, I could see that I was more keen on the weekend idea even when I could hear comments about how 'maybe this is too soon' but I continued to discuss it: denial was setting in...

Aside from who said what, it seems clear communication was lacking. But beneath that, there was also fear. Fear of what was seeming more and more like a fantasy not living up to its own expectations. Fear that this could be real commitment. Fear that the other person might not feel the same in the end. Fear of being vulnerable and intimate. Fear's destructiveness is no great mystery; but in order to vanquish it, we have to communicate it openly so that misconceptions can be aired out and dismissed. How else would it be possible to move on otherwise?

So perhaps this wasn't love; it was infatuation, attraction, and desire, and yes, there was a true connection. But as for real love, we might dream about it, but are we prepared to do what it takes to make it happen?

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On self-empowerment

In a quest to improve my life and make positive changes, I have spent the better part of the last twelve years reading self-help books, doing spiritual development courses, getting in touch with my inner this, that, or the other and after all this time, I’ve reached a revelatory conclusion, but not one I was seeking; I am beginning to realize that so little of this change is down to me.

The irony is that I started this journey to empower myself; however, after having worked so hard to make positive changes in my life and having seen such few results, I find myself feeling less empowered than ever.

In fact, there are moments when I feel as though none of it is down to me. In the mind-body-spirit world of 'you can change your life', words like 'chance' and 'fate' are almost dirty words. However, I am beginning to accept that they have a big part to play after all.

Many of us have a tremendous hunger for positive changes, for a better and happier life, but for all our efforts to change our negative and limiting beliefs into expansive and positive ones, we find ourselves back where we started or not even moving, over and over again. But this doesn't make us failures.

It’s so easy to pick up a book or go to a seminar that promises you the change you seek. You follow everything to the letter but after days, weeks, and months of using your newly acquired tools, whatever they may be, you find you haven’t moved much, if at all. And it makes you feel worse than when you started, powerless and frustrated.

Maybe peole are divided into two categories. It reminds me a bit of the two geological theories that split Earth historians: on one hand you have those who think that Earth’s changes came about in cyclical cataclysms, and on the other hand you have those who believe that Earth was shaped and formed by millions of years of really slow erosion and trickling and rushing of streams and rivers, and continental drift.

Maybe some of us will follow a certain path and get profound changes and progress relatively quickly, while the rest of us will change very slowly, if at all, one minute step at a time. For those of us who feel they fall into the latter, less desirable category, it is important to assess the situation and acknowledge it in order to ever be able to move on.

So for us ‘slow-changers’, it is important to accept that the paths we have tried have simply not worked but that it doesn’t make us failures. Maybe by doing this we open ourselves to new and effective solutions and perhaps then we can find the change we desire.

It is important that we stop measuring ourselves by the standards and expectations set by the courses, books, and other self-help tools that we have used. In doing so, we stop feeling like complete failures every time we don’t achieve a specific result, while remaining open to being humble and accepting that we are not magicians; maybe we will gain perspective on what we call fate or chance, maybe we won't. We just have to accept that some events will befall us no matter how much we change our limiting beliefs. After all, maybe acceptance is the most empowering tool of all.

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Homesick, but where's home...

Sometimes I feel homesick, but not quite sure for where. I just know I want to go home, to that feeling of having arrived, when you first set your sight on the places that know you so well, where the warmth of your house and its familiar corners rush to greet you as you walk through the door.

On this merry-go-round of work and home, of waiting at cold train platforms and wishing every hour away, I am at every moment more aware of an ever increasing longing for somewhere else, where dreams are fulfilled.

Sometimes, no matter how much you try and convince yourself otherwise, you are just a passenger in life, and you have to go wherever the ride takes you. It’s not always fun. In fact it’s dull as hell. It’s during those endlessly monotonous emotionally void moments that it becomes the hardest to believe that there is a more fulfilling life to be lived.

Maybe beyond self-doubt and fear, fulfillment is there waiting. The important thing is to not get stuck; there must always be room, no matter how small, for just a little bit of faith that things will happen when they can, and that when they do, they might just exceed our dreams and expectations.

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Bittersweet Liberia

I remember when my mother used to take me to the library to get books, when I was about 7 or 8. I would dash straight for the comic book section and spend ages agonizing over which 5 books I could take out that day. This was usually early Saturday morning. It was always sunny, as it is most of the year in Liberia.

Afterwards we would always go to the swimming pool club where would spend the day. I would meet up with my friends there; from the moment we arrived until we all went home, we didn’t stop playing, making up worlds and places, pretending to be all the wild and crazy things that live in the imagination of kids.

When we went home at night, the streets would be livening up for Saturday night as I would be slipping into my own bubble of tiredness and my mind still buzzing with the games I played with my friends.

From the balcony of our apartment, I could watch the sunset, so I always did. Each one was different but always beautiful. It was a daily live postcard, the gigantic tangerine sun disappearing behind the sea, on the beach by the Coconut Plantation. The name sounds pastiche, but that’s what the street was called, as it was on a beach, by a plantation of a few dozen coconut trees that someone left behind a hundred years ago.

The trees are gone now; someone tore them down to build houses. The sun still sets there but this magical place has been torn by war and heinous atrocities. I’m torn between sadness for the people who have suffered and still are, and the sadness for losing my small part of paradise. Beyond the veil of bittersweet reminiscence, I feel grateful for having grown up in a such wonderful place, where the bizarre and the ridiculous often passed off as ordinary as none knew any better. ‘The Love of Liberty Brought Us Here’ say the Coat of Arms of Liberia. Hollow words that I hope and pray one day will gain real meaning again.

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Nostalgic memory

For those of us who are sentimental, it’s not always easy to draw the line between simple memory recall and nostalgia as nostalgia often wins.

Listening to an old song becomes a voyage to a past that never existed, constructed out of unfulfilled desires and aggrandized events that were not necessarily appreciated when they first unfolded.

The past can become a mythical landscape onto which all sorts of minor delusions are projected; it becomes a place where ‘things were so much better’, forgetting all the while that it was never truly so.

This is almost a disease, one that prevents the nostalgically afflicted from being fully engrossed in the present, which is after all the only place where life is ever genuinely unfolding.

Sentimentality often wins because it is easy, a quick-fix. Things aren’t so great now? Well, why not look back on a time when everything was. Of course there never was such a time, but with hindsight, the mind can perform miracles.

Looking back on one’s past too frequently obviously indicates unhappiness with life today, or else there would be no inclination or desire to reminisce. True miracles can happen if the past is just left to slip away as it should, and eyes are wide open and mind fully present to the here and now.

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Words from the Windard Tree: Fighting troubled thoughts.

(This is a further installment from the correspondence between Jamie and Luke -- Click here for previous installment)

To start from the first installment of the correspondence between Jamie and Luke, click here.

Dear Luke,

I've lost the artifact. I just can't find it anywhere, and I have really looked. All this after I called the Museum curator to tell her that I have an object which might be of interest to her. I'm so glad I didn't say what I thought it might be, I'd look like a complete idiot now.

I don't know where it is. The house doesn't show any sign of a break-in so I've ruled out theft. Besides, why would anyone want to steal it now, I've had it around for years, why suddenly should anyone want it? You're the only person I've mentioned it to.

Anyway, I'm afraid I'm moving into a really dark space lately. My bad thoughts have taken over. I don't know if I'm falling into the shadows again, like last time. I was pretty sure I'd beaten this. I find myself going over the same self-deprecating thoughts for hours.

Everything I consider ugly has been surfacing. I never thought of myself as a jealous person but a few nights ago I proved myself wrong. I was invited to a dinner party, an otherwise lovely evening but I found myself feeling envious of anyone there who was successful at their work, or who had love in their life. I went home feeling terribly self-piteous, and so hateful, so full of venom.

You're the only person I feel I can say this to. I can barely even come to terms with it myself. I don't understand why these feelings are coming up. After all, I am aware that I have a lot going for me. I'd understand if I were less fortunate.

In this heavy time, I feel like there's no way out. I can't even imagine that things will get better, that I'll snap out of this. It's terrible, I don't know what to do.

I'm so confused. I barely manage to do anything creative. Do you think that's why it feels like I'm going crazy? I haven't touched a paintbrush in over a year. Apart from my letters to you and my diary, I haven't written anything of any substance either. I just drift from day to day, from frustration to frustration. And why when I realize that I am feeling sorry for myself, do I not manage to stop?

Losing the artifact hasn't helped either. It has compounded my sense of failure. I'm tired, drained. All that inspiration seems light years away now. How do I find it again? I really don't know.

You know me well enough to remember that this is not who I am. I trust your support and that's why I'm able to tell you what I'm going through without any fear that you might judge me.

I hope you are well. I will come and see you as soon as I am feeling better.

Love,

Jamie

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Love, relationships, and their challenges

When it comes to love and relationships, many of us often find ourselves gravitating towards the same type of person and/or situation, time and time again. I, for one, am often drawn to people who are not emotionally available. They might be just out of a relationship and are not sure if they are ready to get involved again. Or maybe they're going through major changes and are thinking of making a new start elsewhere. It’s easy in those instances to feel as though it’s just hard luck, and suddenly there are thoughts like ‘Oh I just can’t believe this is happening again, why doesn’t it ever work out for me?!!’. Why, indeed.

The answer is very simple. The people to whom you are attracted are a mirror for you and your emotions. As far as always meeting people who are not entirely emotionally available, the answer for me is clear: neither am I.

So, how do I become more emotionally available? I’ve been to counseling, I’ve read books, I’ve done workshops, spent weekends chanting around a fire with a group of strangers and letting go of the anger, I’ve invoked every angel I’ve ever heard of, after all that, and after all these years, here I am, still emotionally unavailable. At least that’s what everyone else keeps telling me. Do I need to start praying for a miracle?

I’m learning that accepting myself as I am now is the key. I might change in time. I might become more emotionally available, but the truth of the matter is, if I don’t adopt self-acceptance now when I need it most, then when? And that seems the biggest challenge of all.

How can I love myself as I am, with all my faults and shortcomings? It is emerging for me, having tried everything else that I can think of, that the only way I can ever achieve this self-acceptance is to seek a greater power, one of a spiritual nature. Which power you choose is down to you. Just trust and have faith. Trust that everything is working out for the best, even if right now it seems otherwise. Have faith that you are doing the best you can, now and always.

Relationships also teach you a lot about yourself by pointing straight to your insecurities and self-imposed limitations. Everytime your buttons are pushed, it's for good reasons. For example, if a situation with a lover is bringing up feelings of jealousy, you will know it's about your ego. If you feel good enough about yourself, why would you ever feel jealous? You would feel confident and secure and that would be enough. And true security comes from within. If you can find your own way of gaining that perspective on your situation, you can learn a lot, and hopefully this can also be a way for you to grow and move on.

It's when you are feeling the most insecure and jealous that you need to be the most self-accepting. In 12 steps, they tell you to ask for the willingness to change; it seems like a good place to start. So today, I ask for the willingness to accept myself just as I am, warts ‘n all. Maybe that will be the miracle I’m praying for. And once that happens, I have no doubt I will be the change I seek.

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Words from the Windward Tree: Luke feels lonely

This is a further letter from the correspondence between Jamie and Luke. Click here for previous installment.

June 16

Dear Jamie,

I am fascinated by your feelings about the artifact. I remember it, but I can’t imagine how it might be an eye, but then again, that was a long time ago. It would be interesting to look at it again in that context. Have you contacted the museum yet? I’d be very interested to know what has happened, please keep me posted.

I can imagine your apprehension, but just think, if it is the eye of the Queen, it would be exciting beyond words!! And who knows what it might lead to...

The garden’s done. Well I say done, the basics are all there now. The prehistoric bit looks fantastic, you must come see it. You didn’t mention when you’d be able to come visit. Let me know so I can make arrangements. I think you'd love it here.

I’ve been getting a strong urge to just get up and go somewhere really far away and start a new life. Somewhere with a slow pace of life, somewhere quiet. Maybe I just need a holiday.

I’m glad I’ve had the garden to focus on, as I’ve had no work for months. My savings are dwindling, though slowly. It’s an uneasy feeling. I keep reminding myself to focus on the positive, that I have plenty and that all good things are coming my way. And it’s ok. But there are moments when it’s not.

Every now and then I fall into a pit of fear. Whenever I do, I think I’ll never come out of it again. With the family gone, and with you so far away, I feel like I’m tightrope walking – with no rope! I do have to take out your letters and re-read your encouraging words; they make me feel better every time.

It sounds more dramatic than it is, but it’s something that has come up again in the last few days because two jobs I was up for fell through. There will be plenty more, I know.

It is harder with you far away. I miss coming over to your house, sitting at your kitchen table talking about all and sundry for hours on end. It all seems like so long ago now. Do you remember that time we stayed up all night and went down to the beach really early in the morning? It's times like that I miss the most.

It’s great to know you’re still here for me, even though you’re so far away. Maybe life will bring us near again, you never know.

Anyway, I’m going to sign-off now. I look forward to hearing from you soon, and to hear about the famous eye. See you soon, I hope.

Love,

Luke

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Inspiration or instant gratification?

Inspiration often disappears as quickly as it comes. Some might say it's fickle. Perhaps it is, but I think it's just the nature of the beast. If you were to be permanently inspired, well, it wouldn't be called inspiration (and would probably prove extremely annoying to anyone you come in contact with!!)

When I was reading T. S. Elliot on Sunday, (see previous posting), I was inspired so much that I was actually unable to do anything with that inspiration. I tried to write about my enthralled emotional and psychological states, but I litterally couldn't find the words.

I managed to start a poem but I didn't get very far with it. Perhaps I was being over-critical, and unnecessarily over-reverent towards Eliot, and comparing what I had written to his work. Doing that is ludicrous and irrelevant. When writing, comparing it to the work of a successful, departed writer is fruitless.

I do think this is part of a larger problem we as a species living in modern times suffer from: the need for instant gratification.

I probably will get somewhere with my poem, I just need to keep working at it. Even the greatest masters of litterature and art spend hours honing and refining their work to 'get there'. Why expect to be able to turn out a moving poem in between downing a Frappuccino and waiting for 'Will and Grace' to start on TV? It's no wonder I couldn't find the words.

So inspiration is fickle. It's gone before you know it. But you do recognize it when it comes knocking on your soul, so maybe the trick is to make it as hospitable for it to stay whenever it does turn up, given that you're not in the supermarket queue (that's where the trusted mini-notepad comes in!)

So next time my muse comes to visit, I'll tape 'Will and Grace', stop guzzling overpriced coffee and take a few deep breaths and just sit with her for a while and get in touch with what I'm really trying to say, and let go of the futile excercise of comparing my work to someone else's, no matter how great and how dead he might be. Maybe then I'll find the words that inspiration is bringing me. And in that process, perhaps I'll make another step towards getting over the need for instant gratification.

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T S Eliot: an excerpt from The Waste Land

I spent Sunday afternoon with someone who, just by having a copy of one of his books, reintroduced me to T S Eliot. The following is an excerpt from Eliot’s The Waste Land, from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock.

T S Eliot is undoubtedly one of the most accomplished poets of the 20th Century. He uses simple vocabulary, interspersed with the odd flowery word, and with his graceful syntax manages to compose beautifully expressive poems that have the ability to transport you to the place and time that inspired them.

Eliot manages to make it seem all so effortless, elegant and evocative.

Anyone can eventually learn to write well. However, creating masterpieces is reserved for the blessed few.

…And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.…

You can read more of Eliot's work at camdenfamily.com

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Words from the Windward Tree: The Missing Eye.

This is the third installment in the correspondence between Jamie and Luke -- Click here for the previous one.

June 3

Dear Luke,

I went to the National Museum again a few days ago. I wanted to look at that world famous bust of that Queen from Eastern Antiquity. I am now almost completely sure that the alabaster artifact I’ve showed you is her missing eye. The thought fills me with panic and excitement all at once.

Do you remember the artifact? The one I bought it in an antique market outside Paris years ago, along with some other trinkets? I showed it to you once when you were here. The man who sold it to me told me he wasn’t quite sure what it was, that it was probably part of an old necklace, but reckoned it was not worth very much so let me have it for two hundred Francs or so.

I’ve always found it quite mesmerizing, the smooth and translucent shape and how it takes on a whole new dimension when you hold it up to the light. I’ve often looked at it and wondered what it was. I was never convinced it was just a piece of jewelry.

I’ve recently been reading the book on her life and how she came to power all those thousands of years ago, and how she was almost erased from history. A few nights ago, I had a dream about her. In that dream, she came out of her mausoleum, in full royal regalia, walked straight towards me and said ‘give it back’, pointing at the stone which I held in my hand. I woke up in a jolt. It's because of the book and the dream that I decided to go and see the famous sculpture of her again.

That’s when it struck me. The eye on the sculpture in the Museum looks so similar to the stone I have; the same soft surfaced alabaster, the same contours. Mine is just missing the gemstone iris, but you can see the inlay contours where that would have rested.

I’m in a quandary. I would like to contact the museum curators, but do you think they’ll believe me when I tell them I bought it in a market? I have no receipt and it’s been over ten years since.

I guess if it’s nothing to do with the statue, they’ll just give me the stone back and that’ll be that. But what if it is the actual eye? When the statue was found over three hundred years ago, the eye was already missing. The bust is at least three thousand years old, so who knows how long it’s been missing the other eye. I laughed at myself for thinking that I’d suddenly have tons of attention from the press and the world media, but you never know… Mind you, I think I’d hate that.

Maybe that’s why I’m hesitant to contact the museum curator. Or maybe it’s for other reasons I have yet to become aware of.

I’m glad you found the ferns you were looking for, and I hope to come and see the garden soon; it's sounds great (we can talk about dinosaurs again when no one is listening!!). I miss you too.

Love,

Jamie

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Faith and surrender, and thoughts on a poem by Anne Bradstreet

In her poem, ‘Upon the burning of our house’, Anne Bradstreet recounts eloquently the real life event of her house burning down. Apart from being so beautifully written, and in spite of it being about a personal disaster, it is a poem that has always stayed with me ever since I read it in 11th Grade back in High School.

I was deeply moved by this woman's words. She talks about the destruction of all her possessions and the place that held so many special memories, yet she is stalwart in her surrender to this event, and to her trust in a much bigger picture, and in her faith.

It is quite clear from the lack of bitterness in her words that her faith is true and real; this is not just an attempt at being positive. Only someone with true faith can speak with such conviction.

From that point on, whenever I have felt that I have lost something, be it material or otherwise, my mind goes back to her words, and to the surrender she talks about.

Surrender is the one thing that can free us the most but which we also resist the most. Many a heartache would be saved should we sometimes just allow life to unfold. When traumatic events take place, our natural tendency is to want to make it better. Faith, in whatever we chose, is the key; faith means things are fine no matter what. I have, and continue to search for the strength and inspiration to surrender every time it is required of me.

I wanted to share this poem, so here it is:

(Please note some of the spelling has been updated to clarify the words used)

Upon the Burning of our House, July 18th, 1666

By Anne Bradstreet (ca. 1612-1672)

In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I waken'd was with thund’ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

That fearful sound of ‘fire’ and ‘fire’,
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry

To strengthen me in my Distress
And not to leave me succourless.
Then coming out beheld a space,
The flame consume my dwelling place.

And, when I could no longer look,
I blest his Name that gave and took,
That laid my goods now in the dust:
Yea so it was, and so 'twas just.

It was his own: it was not mine;
Far be it that I should repine.
He might of All justly bereft,
But yet sufficient for us left.

When by the ruins oft I past,
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast,
And here and there the places spy
Where oft I sat, and long did lie.

Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest;
There lay that store I counted best:
My pleasant things in ashes lie,
And them behold no more shall I.

Under thy roof no guest shall sit,
Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
No pleasant tale shall 'ere be told,
Nor things recounted done of old.

No Candle 'ere shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom's voice ere heard shall bee.
In silence ever shalt thou lie;
Adieu, Adieu; All's vanity.

Then straight I ‘gin my heart to chide,
And didst thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?

Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast an house on high erect
Fram'd by that mighty Architect,

With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
It's purchased, and paid for too
By him who hath enough to do.

A prize so vast as is unknown,
Yet, by his Gift, is made thine own.
There's wealth enough, I need no more;
Farewell my Pelf, farewell my Store.

The world no longer let me Love,
My hope and Treasure lies Above.

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Words from the Windward Tree: a page from Jamie's diary

This is an entry from Jamie's diary, another installment from 'Words from the Windward Tree'. Click here for previous installment.

12 May

That’s it! I’ve decided, today I’m breaking free! Going to run through the streets shouting like a maniac. I’m going to keep running until I collapse out of breath. I will jump into the river and let it wash me downstream. When I wash up on a bank, I will lie down and rest. Maybe some part of me will die. Maybe all of me will. Maybe I can start again. I can leave all of yesterday behind once and for all.

This place in which I am standing now, everything makes sense and the only reason questions exist is so that they can be answered. It’s all around me like a quiet storm, violent and peaceful all at once. Even chaos is at my fingertips like an instrument I can play well. I play it for my own pleasure, but I think I caught someone listening (he looked like a madman, but it still counts).

From here, I don’t need to go anywhere; everywhere just comes to me. And I can sing to my heart’s content and no one will say ‘don’t give up the day job!’ I’ll never have to be anybody again, just like when I was a boy. Can anyone really remember what it’s like to be the child they once were? For that matter, has anyone stopped being the child they once were?

And I guess I’ll never have to say anything original ever again. I can revel in every cliché there ever was, and repeat them to my heart’s content, ‘till the cows come home, ad nauseam, ad infinitum, etc, etc, etc’. Yes, definitely (I love it already).

And all those to whom I have made promises, I’ll just apologize now and say ‘sorry but I won’t be there’ because I won’t even remember my own name, let alone who I am and what promises I’ve made.

The reason I’m going to do all this is because no matter what I’ve done, how hard I’ve tried to break free, I have always ended up back where I started. It’s like a really big cage in which you can walk for a really long time till you’ve forgotten you’re in one, but just as you’ve begun to think you’re really free, you find you’re not… But now I've changed my mind. And I'm free!

Click here for the next installment in the correspondence.

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