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| Early autumn |
After a tragic event has occurred the phrase 'moving on' is tossed around a lot, stepping onto the next stone despite how unpredictably wobbly it is -- but how long is that process supposed to take? What is the time bracket one's given before things start to get slightly easier? I've always found, with regards to the 'big black spots' (the darker events in your life that made a significant impact on your reality today), normality and growth only comes from acceptance, and acceptance is spurred on by
talking about what happened. Something a friend said to me a few years ago that I'll always remember for its concise honesty - "everyone has shit going on, and everyone thinks their shit is the worst". And isn't that true? Of course relativism plays a role, and we only really have our lives to compare our 'shit' to - but in the grander scheme of things, we're probably a lot better off than many others.
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| Eva in the park - I love the innocence of kids |
By getting out of your own head, where your mind has the power to turn the bat of a butterflies wing into a hurricane, you're able to 'move on' - in relation to the tragic experience I'm talking about, this means
talking about my beloved uncle, his death and his
life that many people seem to leave out. This applies to all tragedies, why hang onto the final few seconds of darkness, when the long and prosperous life that lead up to it serves for far more topics of conversation.
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What I find fairly dangerous is that comforting feeling of dwelling in your own pool of grief, the 'poor-me' scenario that you need to pull yourself out of, especially when there are others more deeply affected than you - time to stop being selfish. It's actually comforting sharing the hurt with others.
I'm sitting on beanbags underneath my windowsill - it's beautiful today. I'm learning about London, I always had the impression that leading up to winter everything would become grey, wet and miserable. But the sun still shines! The temperature drops and the parks are no longer full of hundreds of people in their bikini's, having picnics or playing rounders and footie - but instead a more gentle approach to life begins, warm coats and flushed cheeks, babies wrapped up in blankets and the appreciation of a warm bed. Given, I am slightly afraid of turning into an ice-cube come Christmas but we'll deal with that when we get there.
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| The phantom house |
My routine's up and down now but my regular dabble in yoga maintains a level of stability amongst the chaos. Interestingly a lot of people I know are starting to find meditation, astro-projection and all those far-out concepts that don't get enough credit. I was standing at the train-station the other day thinking about that stability. Yoga to me, was essentially a pause - an escape from the buzz of reality to clear your head and get in touch with yourself free of distractions. Now I'm learning the importance of applying your escape to your reality. In meditation you're taught to just heighten your awareness, your senses - you hear what's around you, feel your surroundings, taste the presence and smell the now. But that should always happen - it's so easy to slip into your own zone when walking down the street, stuck in your thoughts rather than understanding what's happening everywhere at that moment. The lights of the train shone through the darkness and I looked up to see a white house peeping above the stone archway that framed the approaching train. The way the sun hit the white wall almost turned it into a phantom house - momentary awareness.
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I know it's cliché, but at least it's authentic?
Devon 2012 |
After having spoken to a lot of my friends, I've found lots of people doubt their ability to meditate or focus, so without sounding patronizing can I just say it's ok to find it difficult to hold that focus no matter how long you have done it for. When I close my eyes I first have to get over the 'thought barrier'. Under this invisible line are a million thoughts ramming into each other, 'breakfast this morning, booking flights, oyster cards, money, work, food' the list goes on. But above the buzz it's more of a clear white haze that doesn't require concentration
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Enough of the mystical - Saturday's beginning and I still have no sense of time. When you leave 'school-mode' and enter 'work-mode' weekends lose their meaning. A 14 hour shift on a Friday's one to dread, and a Monday's a walk in the park. Today's topsy turvy, and to get to the end you've just got to take the step and try not to get wet.
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