There are nights that are so still that I can hear the small owl calling far off and a fox barking miles away. It is then that I lie in the lean hours awake, listening to the swell born somewhere in the Atlantic rising and falling, rising and falling wave on wave on the long shore by the village, that is without light and companionless. And the thought comes of that other being who is awake, too, letting our prayers break on him, not like this for a few hours, but for days, years, for eternity.
R S Thomas (link) From Destinations, 1985 Collected Poems
Sometimes, in the ‘timeless moments’ of life, particular poets re-enter my heart and mind as counsel and comfort within a season. The late and deeply present R S Thomas has long told of the rising and falling of life’s great ocean, but also of the ‘nights that are so still’ – of an eternal calm. Images of such a calm have been beamed around the globe in recent days, and ears bend to hear the reassuring sound of kind wind – as the Scottish love song* has it – ‘like a bird on the wing’ across water.
Laid low by a tummy bug and intense headache throughout today, the slowing to a painful halt magnified the simple gifts of tentative sips of water, and of perspective.
Wowser! Exceptionally heavy rain is freshening up my lawn and refilling the lakes. Thunder, lightning and rain drumming loud on my cottage roof maintain my restful and contemplative frame of mind.
This morning’s rain gave way to a beautiful afternoon and a fabulous drive down to Ambleside and up and over the Kirkstone Pass. Returning home with lungs full of good clean fresh air makes for a happy Sunday afternoon occupation!
As I thought more about this, it became clear why this deep transformation we seek remains beyond our reach despite our best efforts. We wait for it to come from outside of us. We want others to give it to us. Unfortunately, real self-transformation defies teaching. It makes all teachers ultimately irrelevant. For its nature is to be grown, like a plant. It wants to arise spontaneously. Only then is it real.
Amit Pagedar Finding Awareness: The Journey of Self-discovery
What a wide firmament of experiences, images and words live in the depths of us! I’d want to suggest to Amit Pagedar that teachers contribute to our inner lives and are not therefore ‘ultimately irrelevant,’ whilst understanding the thesis that self-development absolutely arises from and is processed within – and deeply appreciating the ‘like a plant’ imagery.
Almost every outward encounter I have invites me to contemplate the rooted plant that is perpetually growing within me – fed and watered by everything I’ve ever known – by ‘both sides now.’ And the silence heard in such watchfulness counters – or balances – external cacophany and generates hope, for me, for humankind, and for the world.
Sleep We sleep And we may dream While we may Dream We dream For we may wake One more day One more day Glory looking day, glory day Glory looking day And in its glory told a simple way Behold it if you may Glory looking day Glory looking day
Neil Diamond From ‘Lonely Looking Sky’
Can it really be more than forty years since I bought the vinyl album Jonathan Livingston Seagull? Skies like this have reminded me of Neil Diamond ever since!
