Thursday, August 31, 2017

In the “small hours”.

It is in the “small hours” of the night, if I’m awake, and when my emotional reserves are low and my mind wanders, that I sometimes have half real dreams or imaginings. These are sometimes quite haunting. It is during these “small hours” that I often recall the fact that there is an emptiness in the bed beside me which then opens a window into a host of memories.

It in times such as these (and not only in the “small hours”) that I  - in fact all of us - need some inspiration to lift us out of the hole we may find ourselves in and give us hope for the future. Words of inspiration shine a light in the dark corners of our mind and dissipate the shadows and fearsome shapes our imaginings have created.

I have always found solace and inspiration in poetry – not everyone shares this of course – and is a retreat, a resource I frequent. Now the poem, “Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, is such a one. It can be relied on to provide words of good cheer and inspiration when there is a general lack of “harmony” in my life. The words of the poem are a paean of praise to the indomitable human spirit; of the beauty of love for one’s fellow beings and the knowledge that we can always aspire to, and achieve, greater and grander things. They remind us that we humans are better than we could ever have imagined, and that we are all free to seek for, and to arrive at that moment in our lives when peace, harmony and contentment fill our hearts.

In this case the poem’s last six lines are the important ones:
                                                                        “.....; and tho’
                        We are not now that strength which in old days
                        Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
                        One equal temper of heroic hearts,
                        Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
                        To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

 “... but strong in will to seek, to strive, to find, and not to yield.” – powerful words.

The Romans called him Ulysses, but he was a Greek, called Odysseus. He was immortalised in Homer’s chronicles, the “Iliad” and the “Odyssey”, about the siege of Troy and his epic journey home to his long suffering but faithful wife, after a twenty year absence.

In the context of the poem, Ulysses/Odysseus is now an old man. But he is still fired by the thought of greater things to do and greater feats of endurance.

Ulysses/Odysseus was not only a brave and fearless fighter, but also a brilliant tactician – it was he who devised the famous Trojan Horse that was used by the Greeks to finally overcome the defenders of Troy, some thirty one centuries ago.

In many ways this poem – especially the last line, always reminds me of Magucha. All her life she strove; she sought; and (I hope) she found – but she never yielded. She never gave up. In this she was indomitable.

While never trying to make her out to be something she wasn’t – she was very much a fallible human being - there were aspects of her personality that I really admired and respected.


I loved her just as she was – deeply loved her.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

A very personal view of Life

To write from the heart; to write what I really feel is sometimes difficult. It is so personal, so private that I hesitate to put “pen to paper” as the saying goes.

For instance I don’t know where I came from – I mean did I exist, somewhere, before I was born? Will I exist, somewhere, when I die? Is there a great “collective unconscious” – some inexhaustible well of “Life”, or energy, that is drawn upon with a birth and replenished with a death?

Is this what God is?

Trying to understand all this (and please don’t correct me!) I have concluded that God is not “my” God. God is not personal, has no gender and I do not think that God cares one way or another what we do or why we do what we do. We reap what we sow – that is the Law; the only Law. This Law is immutable. This Law is Universal – literally. It is the Law of God. And like any “basic” law it is very simple. This is our “lesson” to learn in life. This great “collective unconscious” grows as we grow in understanding. This is why we were born.

This brings me, by a rather circuitous route, to grief. Grief (in my experience) is the searing, tearing, hopeless dawning knowledge that what was will no longer be. It is almost – and this may seem very unfair – that the greater the love, the greater the grief. But this is the way the “Law” is expressed – what I sow I reap. And love is a necessary, a vital part of Life. All life forms need love (nurture) and express it according to their kind and is why there is “Life” (or so I believe).

Together we were strong, Magucha and I – each supported and nurtured the other and the bond was a loving bond.

This, however, is only about my feelings, my love. What about, in my case, what about my wife Magucha? What about her love for me and her children and grandchildren? At the moment of death did she grieve that she would no longer have me at her side or see her children, her "babies" again?

All I can remember is that she turned her head – slightly away from me – and then 'ceased to live'. But what did that mean? Was she turning towards something; turning towards something she saw or sensed? Or was it as I suspect, that she turned away so that I would not see her deep (if unconscious) relief that she was now released from the bonds of life and (possibly) a recognition that her love would now return to that from whence it first drew life – and therefore help replenish it. Replenish it with her knowledge, her wisdom, her emotional strength, her insight and her love that had been gained through the harsh furnace of pain and illness that she had endured and overcome.

I rebel against and cannot contemplate the concept that at the moment of death a person is “purified” and will lead an “unblemished” life in paradise. That does not fit with the Law! When we die we take with us our whole baggage train of deeds – good, bad and indifferent. It cannot be any other way – the Law states that we reap what we sow.

All this of course begs the question of whether there is “life after death” or whether “the old soul takes the road again” and is reborn. I don't know!

It comforts me, however, to believe that Magucha’s indomitable spirit has made us all stronger because it has rejoined, has replenished, the great “collective unconscious” from whence all life is derived.

Farewell my love! Fare thee well. ’Till we meet again. Saudades.

I’ve edited this post by changing the poem:-

Emily Dickinson wrote this (with her unique punctuation) –

The Heart asks Pleasure – first
And then – Excuse from Pain –
And then – those little Anodynes
That deaden suffering –

And then – to go to sleep –
And then – if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor

The privilege to die -