Starting Over…….

I have seared my soul in the torrid flames of passion. I have had my heart ripped out of my chest through loss. I have trembled in fear at the feet of an unpredictable future. I have cried sea’s of tears from the ravages of my past.

So many invisible scars running right through to my core. Through all of life’s pain, I regret nothing. The enthralling highs and the pitch black, all consuming lows. For I have learnt so much from my journey. The fleetingness of our passage through life. The transience of relationships and situations which organically move forward to chapters new. The impermanence of pain and joy, those precious jewels in time forever to remain in memory.

Now here I stand alone. Oh yes I still have loved one’s and plans for the future. However they do not define me. I no longer cling to the ephemeral. Indeed I no longer cling to myself. I simply observe, accept and love all that is presented before me. To live in gratitude for all that washes up on my shore. My eyes see so clearly now and my heart is open to the future. Blessed for all that I am.

Neither Kith nor Kin

It’s strange that in this day and age ( in my humble opinion ) there seems so few people with an inclination to the spiritual. I mean with the accessibility to social media and thus new ideas one would have thought more would have been attracted to the topic.

For myself I know of no one in my circles who have the vaguest interest or understanding outside of their everyday existence. I often feel it would be nice to share a mutual exploration of viewpoints with someone but other than via the Internet there is no one person with whom I can involve.

Perhaps though this is the lesson. After all it is frequently stated that the way to understanding is an inward journey. It would still have been nice though to share the journey. ❤️

Love Actually…

Sitting outside on my porch gazing at the small pinpricks of starlight piercing the clear black velvet of the night sky.. The chill evening breeze gently brushes against my skin, light chirruping of birdsong reaches my ears and the cool, musty aroma of the evening air infiltrates my sense of smell. The pure, sensual beauty of the moment triggers bittersweet memories of similar feelings previously experienced in my life. Of when we first met.

Our eyes subtly, ever so delicately touched. With that brief, miniscule action my heart and spirit were given flight. My body and soul became aflame with a deep incandescent love for you.
Your very presence lightened my heart and quenched my previously unrequited thirst for emotional and intellectual intimacy.

All of my senses became excruciatingly heightened as if to ensure that I did not miss any aspect of your divine presence.
I bathed in your gaze and through your eyes I was drawn into your very soul. Any self control I had, withered away as I responded to your every word and gesture.
To others it may have appeared to be an intimate friendship but together we were as one, intrinsically in synchrony in our interactions.

The content and context of our verbal and non verbal responses were immaterial, they simply served the purpose of allowing us to subtly and sensually mingle our individual energies. Consummating our union with every word, touch and exchange of eye contact.

Our sharing of similar appreciations of beauty, humour and the intricate complexities of life itself.
We interacted in a joyous, almost childlike manner. No ego’s, pretences or barrier’s between us, you and I were lost to the world of mortals. We were in our private heaven.
Any sense of time was lost as this was beyond physicality, this was the realm of the eternal soul. There was neither any beginning or end, only that moment for eternity.We met many times after that, each meeting always exquisite in its depth and liberating in its intensity. But extraneous circumstances moved us apart and our time together diminished until ‘we’ are now just a shared memory.
Now it is unlikely I will ever know if what we had was meant to last and be something more enduring.
I look upon those times in the not so distant past with warmth and appreciation for those so special moments.
Perhaps this is how it is meant to be.
After all some of the most beautiful and wondrous things in life are transient.
Transient, possibly because those unique set of circumstances that lead to the blooming and eventual blossoming of that particular numinous experience could not be sustained.
Like the peak of a storm.
Like an Autumn sunset.

Love Actually….

Sitting outside on my porch gazing at the small pinpricks of starlight piercing the clear black velvet of the night sky.. The chill evening breeze gently brushes against my skin, light chirruping of birdsong reaches my ears and the cool, musty aroma of the evening air infiltrates my sense of smell. The pure, sensual beauty of the moment triggers bittersweet memories of similar feelings previously experienced in my life. Of when we first met.

Our eyes subtly, ever so delicately touched. With that brief, miniscule action my heart and spirit were given flight. My body and soul became aflame with a deep incandescent love for you.
Your very presence lightened my heart and quenched my previously unrequited thirst for emotional and intellectual intimacy.

All of my senses became excruciatingly heightened as if to ensure that I did not miss any aspect of your divine presence.
I bathed in your gaze and through your eyes I was drawn into your very soul. Any self control I had, withered away as I responded to your every word and gesture.
To others it may have appeared to be an intimate friendship but together we were as one, intrinsically in synchrony in our interactions.

The content and context of our verbal and non verbal responses were immaterial, they simply served the purpose of allowing us to subtly and sensually mingle our individual energies. Consummating our union with every word, touch and exchange of eye contact.

Our sharing of similar appreciations of beauty, humour and the intricate complexities of life itself.
We interacted in a joyous, almost childlike manner. No ego’s, pretences or barrier’s between us, you and I were lost to the world of mortals. We were in our private heaven.
Any sense of time was lost as this was beyond physicality, this was the realm of the eternal soul. There was neither any beginning or end, only that moment for eternity.We met many times after that, each meeting always exquisite in its depth and liberating in its intensity. But extraneous circumstances moved us apart and our time together diminished until ‘we’ are now just a shared memory.
Now it is unlikely I will ever know if what we had was meant to last and be something more enduring.
I look upon those times in the not so distant past with warmth and appreciation for those so special moments.
Perhaps this is how it is meant to be.
After all some of the most beautiful and wondrous things in life are transient.
Transient, possibly because those unique set of circumstances that lead to the blooming and eventual blossoming of that particular numinous experience could not be sustained.
Like the peak of a storm.
Like an Autumn sunset.

With Discerning Eyes….

When he had found out that he was empathic his experiences finally made sense. It also explained as to why others seemed to not understand some of the ideas and feelings he had expressed.
This energetic ‘ sensitivity’ it would seem allowed him to access the depths of others emotions or thoughts from the briefest of encounters. Also to preternaturally sense sites and places of power in the landscape.
When occurring the experience was never easy to describe as they presented frequently as fleeting gossamer tendrils of energy manifesting as thoughts, feelings or images or a combination of all three.
Sometimes he would become overwhelmed with the presenting energy and find himself utterly absorbed into the persons self or the genius loci of the site and it’s magical history and presence.

The older gentleman sitting by himself at the bar, baseball cap covering his eyes as nurses his glass of spirit and ice. An ex military man mumbling a soliloquy of painful memories and regrets. Rheumy eyes gaze blearily out from under the peak of his cap as the waitress delivers his next shot. The alcohol numbing his reflective suffering and giving some relief to his emotional turmoil.

The young mother in the restaurant doting on her two year old, making entreaties for him to eat. Her partner sits there disinterse, texting on his mobile phone. His demeanor suggests his belief that he sees himself as an ‘ alpha male’. His overt masculinity she once found attractive however all she feels now is oppressed and disregarded.

Walking along a narrow lane towards the holy well, surrounded either side by overhanging gorse bushes and tree branches creating a natural aisle for a reverential procession. One can almost hear the hushed, silent voices of the ancestral supplicant as they approached this sanctum of Gaia. Grey, corbelled walls surround the natural font, many clouties hang from the hawthorn tree in the grove. These given as offerings by those wishing to be healed. Their entreaties almost palpable and their silent tears having fallen on the soil to be mixed with the translucent waters of the spring.

The overgrown scrub obscured much of the ruinous stone circle within the small copse. However it’s ethereality could strongly be sensed. A long history of mystic practices had impressed themselves on this spot and what remained was a subtle but powerful energy. The quality of the energy sometimes changed on each visit. This time the feeling was stark. The sandstone uprights seemed to stare disaffected towards him. It felt as if a hundred or so malevolent eyes watched warily from the undergrowth resenting his presence as if he had interrupted some sacred liturgy.

He reflected on all these memories and felt he had been given a special insight into the true nature of reality. And if was really one’s perspective that mattered then he was truly gifted.

Spiritual Individuation

Colours blind the eye.
Sounds deafen the ear.
Flavours numb the taste.
Thoughts weaken the mind.
Desires wither the heart.
The Master observes the world
but trusts his inner vision.

He allows things to come and go.
His heart is open as the sky.
From the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu.

I know many of us with a predisposition towards the spiritual life can suffer tremendously as we precariously tread our path. There is in us all, our own rendition of spirituality. A unique and innate seed that seeks expression and fulfilment through our experience of life itself. My own was through the discovery that I am empathic.
I am no expert on anyone’s life as we all are different. Each of us growing from a distinct DNA in our own individual habitat of physical, psychological and emotional environments.

However, in the hope of helping others, I wish to communicate briefly my experience thus far.
After many years of reflection, meditation and various numinous experiences in my life I found that actually I knew my truth all along, I just needed to discover it. My truth was ingrained in my heart from the very beginning. I suspect it took awhile to discover as my truth was not of my culture and thus many of my spiritual experiences were alien to me as they were to my peers.

This is where the idea of spiritual individuation came from.
The term ” individuation ” was coined by Carl Jung, a psychiatrist and psychotherapist. His theory was that in order for humans to become the best version themselves we had to allow ourselves to be authentic. That is to seek to express in ourselves and in life our intuitive true nature. The problem with this is it can often be at odds with our culture, peers the society we are born into.
Although I never used to think that being empathic was a gift ( due to its initially confusing and draining properties ) , I now know that it was indeed. One which, once understood, has been pivotal in helping me find myself and for me, my true relationship with the world around me.
So to all you fellow strugglers, whatsoever pain or challenges you may face, rest assured that you are more than you perceive yourself to be. You are more than your current problems, more than your fears for the future and more than the hurts of your past. If you can carry on pursuing your heartfelt path, in my experience, you will find peace and equanimity.

And the Shell Crack’d……

Sitting alone in his darkened lounge he sat with his head in his hands. It was early evening but already the days occurrences were weighing heavy on his heart. His life over the last few months had become a veritable tsunami of stress, relentless in its persistency and in its increasing escalation of painful situations.
He had begun to wonder if in some way he had contributed to his own suffering though he could not imagine how.

It was, on occasions, difficult enough to be an empath. Seeing as he did into individuals souls and feeling their pain and their suffering both historically and currently. More often than not he would try and help them in ways that were none intrusive but more by giving them a safe space to verbalise their thoughts and reach their own conclusions.

But now he knew he had barely enough strength for himself let alone others.
He felt vague currents of anxiety start to set in, in both his mind and body. He so wished he could be saved. Rescued from the edge of this towering precipice above a black pit of annihilation. However it was never going to be that easy, never was.

Then suddenly it felt as if his mind broke. All the thoughts and emotions that had been building inside of him burst forth from the finite confines of his ego and out into the world.
Nothing particularly physically or behaviourally were to be observed to suggest any internal change had occurred.
However cognitively and emotionally his inner landscape had changed dramatically.
He felt himself to be outside of himself looking in. Floods of compassion swept over him for this man and his burden. But the compassion did not stop there. It flooded out towards the whole of humanity and the Earth’s flora and fauna.

It dawned on him that actually, at the end of the day, we are all one. Though our senses and speech suggest otherwise, this was indeed not the case. That every living beings pain and ecstacy are irrevocably caught up with everyone and everything else.
For some reason his suffering could not be alleviated by logic or therapy. The often seemingly impossible task of maintaining a semblance of sanity and a will to continue could only be guaranteed through a breakthrough of sorts.

He noted that he no longer felt alone.
He was indeed as much a part of this world as the mountains and lakes, as the animals and the birds, as the clouds and the soil.

A quote came to mind. A long time ago he remembered that a gentleman called Carl Jung allegedly stated that there is no coming to consciousness without pain.
This he now understood.

Surviving Dukkha

( As an empathic individual who is very much in touch with my and others emotions I needed to explore my experiences rather than riding rough shod with them through my life. This led me to the following understanding).

It is my experience that bearing pain and suffering and witnessing that of others, the assumed reality of an egoic / materialistic existence is called into question.
Occurrences such as the death of a child, the terminally ill and child orphans of war for instance implore us to question the morality of life’s seemingly nonsensical course.
The pain and bewilderment we feel drives some of us to delve deeper into our experience of life in order to make some kind of sense of the seeming reality we face on a daily basis.

Buddhists and Hindus refer to this as ‘ dukkha ‘ and it can provide us with a metaphorical whetstone with which to enquire into the reality of our experience and sharpen our spiritual insight.

Therefore from out of our deepest, darkest moments can, with understanding, develop a powerful glimpse into the true nature of reality. Allowing us to see the impermanence of all that we perceive and how our psyche seeks to deceive us into believing otherwise.

Epiphany….

The rain thunders downwards, straight and forceful hitting the ground like machine gun fire. The leaden grey sky reflected in the heaving tumultuous waves of the ocean creating an almost monochrome vista. This ruinous chapel affording my dank body some slight shelter from the elements. Situated in an open field on a rocky promontory forming a cape, surrounded by the relentlessly roaring sea, blending perfectly with its environs. The drystone walls, mortared rubble and rounded boulders of which it is constructed taken from the very earth on which it was constructed.

Huddled alone and drenched against the granite corbelled walls, my mortal self feels strangely alone. It’s as if I was the only living being in this seemingly austere yet enigmatic world. The only ever witness to the rugged beauty of the landscape.
Yet a paradoxical sense avails also.
A sense of oneness with the Earth, of being a unified part of all that was, is and will ever be. I am but a microcosm reflected in the greater whole.
In this rugged stone panorama I perceive my bones.
In the moss and meadow see my flesh.
In the sea and the rivulets of rain I behold my blood.
A numinous peace settles around my war torn heart.
For now I know ( as I have always known, deep inside), that I and all that is, are eternal.

As One…….

As One………….

Sitting here upon an old sarsen stone on the hilltop over looking the river valley, I reflect on the true wondrousness of Nature and her infinite beauty.
Albeit early November, the heavy rains and recent high winds have taken their toll on the trees and bushes in view.

Much foliage has been washed or blown away leaving large portions of the fauna appearing comparatively skeletal beneath the setting Sun.
A fresh breeze struck up bringing the heavy earthy smell of sodden mulch to my nostrils, instantly whisking me away to my childhood playing hide and seek amongst the bracken in the local woods.
The Sun lower in the sky now, creating a deep amber glow across the horizon, casting the illusion of rivers of fiery lava between the slender stretches of cloud.
The fields, trees and hedges appearing to glow with new life under the gaze of the last vestiges of muted auric sunlight.
A couple of acer trees, their leaves seemingly ablaze with ethereal vitality as if in defiance at the ending of the day.
Even the trunks and limbs of a row of nearby elm trees appear blood red in the evening light.
A murder of rooks overhead caw loudly out to each other as if also in protest at the demise of the day, restricting their hunting until the morning sunrise.

In moments such as this, I easily lose my sense of self amongst the rich and exquisite tapestry of Nature’s views, smells and sounds.
I am the buzzard circling majestically, high above the ground, acutely aware of any movement below.
I am one of the ancient Yews that circle the hilltop, bearing silent intuitive witness to the seasons passing.
I am the cold crumbling stone masonry of the old castle, built aeons ago in the dim mists of time.
I am also this very earth, porous and yielding to the elements above yet an ever present memory to the thousands of years of history enacted upon me.

Any hint of separation of myself and all that is, was and will be has been lost forever. For I am too destined to always be an eternal part of life on Earths great cosmic dance.