My Pocket

Torn

Listen, my heart,
as long as you feel any difference
between joy and sorrow,
you will be torn to pieces.

Rumi

compact living

Yesterday we finished putting together my sewing corner and I'm so happy about it! It turned out just the way I wanted it and I'm amazed at how much fits into that little alcove. There is plenty of room for more fabric in the hanging stash storage :o) and lots of places for tucking away bits and pieces.

The whole place, our home, has been quite transformed by all this rearranging and it makes me smile every time I go to the kitchen or between the rooms. The vibes are so much better! We live in a very small place really, compact living indeed, and it has the feeling of a loft in some ways with the windows set so low, no dining room, tiny kitchen, two bedrooms (mostly people here share a flat - we just happen to be a couple) and a tiny porch at the bottom of the carpeted stairs. I'll show you photos of it all once we've cleared away all the homeless belongings littering the floors. I can show you a limited view of the fireplace wall in our bedroom though - blue! :

From orange...

Enjoy your day!

to do - doing it - done

Happy July to you!

I am happy with the way the weekend turned out. Minus the hot soup and the studying which didn't happen we managed to...

watch a film (Pride and Prejudice: I plucked the courage to suggest a girly film and I loved watching the costumes)

put up the kitchen shelves (they have been a project in waiting for ages now),

get a dining table (I love it! It used to be D's desk and I just painted the legs white while he polished the top leaving the dark stain and the worn look of it),

buy an oven (oh, the things we can cook now!),

and paint the chimney breast in the living room (green! Yes, the red was lovely too, but I have shared a room with it for two years now and it was time for it to go).

On a completely different note, I have added another Long Story page, about my family if you're interested.

I hope you enjoyed your weekend and I wish that July will bring joy and summery adventures for you!

no, let's not

The forecast for this weekend and until Wednesday is showers, showers, showers and more showers, so we decided not to go on our planned Cornwall holiday. Yesterday the cheeky weather showed it's sunniest, warmest and most pleasant face in a long time however, just to tease I think. I've never been so relieved to find a misty morning view from the window and take such delight in steady drizzle.

It will be a weekend of pottering around indoors and getting some things ticked off our to-do list. Apart from putting up shelves, clearing out and putting together I intend to watch films, have hot soup, do some sewing and some studying. For me that beats getting soaked in a tent down in St Ives, though I would have loved to see the place.

I'm still touched by the performance of the students last night at the last Informal Evening. Informal Evenings are events the school has every so often when anyone who wants to perform can get on stage and play their instrument, sing, do a skit, perform an act or read poetry etc, mostly people sing and play and often together. Saskia, a 16-year-old girl, sang the Jeff Buckley version of Hallelujah to acoustic guitar and it was amazing, can't do it justice by describing it really, it was just spot on and so touching.

OK, enough of the rambling, I don't have much to say today. Have a great weekend!

farewell

Last night was the night of the Farewell Dinner. All the leaving students, mature students and staff make leaving speeches at this formal dinner held for the whole school. This year there were 37 people leaving, which is a lot for any given year, and it took more than three hours to get through all the people saying something. Each year it humbles me, hearing all these wonderful people speak about their year or years here. I always feel like I haven't got involved enough, never get to know enough of them, don't spend enough time at the school. The students live such an intense and unique life here, close together and learning about themselves at a terrific speed.

There's no comparing to that really, but I still set myself the challenge each year to push myself a bit more out of my comfort zone. I run and hide as often as I can, feeling awkward and out of place with all these people around. There is always something going on and opportunitites present themselves to learn something new and I am mostly too scared to take advantage of it. I learn lots on my own, but I would like to learn about sharing time and experiences with others more. In any case, there are several students I did get to know somewhat and this is their last day, so I am off now to hand out hugs. Take care.

Skytsenglen

For Gustaf:

Jeg er fuglen som banker på din rude om morgenen-
og din ledsager som du aldrig kan kende-
blomsterne, der viser de blinde vej.

Jeg er den skinnende gletsjer over trækronerne og-
klangen af malm fra kirkespirene-
jeg er tanken der overrasker dig ved middagstid
og fylder dig med en sær lykke.

Jeg er den, som du har elsket for længe siden-
jeg har vandret ved din side om dagen og betragtet dig-
og lagt munden mod dit hjerte,
uden at du vidste det.

Jeg er din tredje arm og din anden skygge-
den hvide
som du ikke har hjerte for men som aldrig kan glemme dig.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am the bird that flutters against your window in the morning,
your fellow traveller and guide, whom you can never know,
blossoms, that light the way for the blind.

I am the glittering glacier over the tree tops and -
the resounding of bells from the church spires.
I am the thought that surprises you at midday
and fills you with such joy.

I am the one you have loved long ago.
I have walked beside you during the day and looked intently at you
and put my mouth against your heart
without you knowing.

I am your third arm and your other shadow -
the white one,
who you don't have space for in your heart
but who can never forget you.

Rolf Jacobsen

I am not I

I am not I.
I am this one
Walking beside me whom I do not see,
Whom at times I manage to visit,
And at other times I forget.
The one who remains silent when I talk,
The one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
The one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
The one who will remain standing when I die.

Juan Ramon Jimenez, translated by Robert Bly

I found this poem, in Spanish, when I lived in Barcelona for a few months and it stayed with me. It was in Barcelona that I really made walking a habit. I had just come back from my trip in India a month earlier, and in India the last place I had been was Rishikesh, staying at an ashram. At the ashram I met a Finnish girl, Heidi (miss you Heidi!), who went for walks in the surrounding hills every day and she showed me the paths she took. When she left the ashram to go further up into the Himalayan foothills I continued walking those paths alone every morning before lunch and I felt so happy. It was one of the happiest times in my life.

I did an hour and a half of yoga asanas each morning at 7.00 am and again each afternoon at 3.00 pm. I made a habit of avoiding the meditation classes at 5.30 am and 5.00 pm - I wasn't ready for meditation in my life and in any case, I still don't like that kind of dark room mass meditation with a technique to apply for the one hour on the dot. I stayed up on one of the roof tops instead, lying on my back watching the stars come out and listening to the pooja taking place on the other side of the Ganges. The walking was my kind of meditation and it did wonders to my peace and clarity of mind.

However, when I came to Barcelona I had forgotten about walking and was first quite miserable in the early evenings after work as I am a rather boring introvert girl when it comes to socialising and coming up with exciting things to do. I just prefer observing and living a life of simple pleasures. Walking is just that for me. It took a while to get into the habit however - I was so tired and dull-minded coming back from work that it took a lot of coaxing and encouraging just to get out of the house and on the way. Listening to music helped immensely with that, skipping down the winding streets to the seafront. I would always go the same way: down the hill through the residential area I lived in, past all these lovely Spanish houses with lush front gardens with lemon trees, jasmine, manicured pot plants and little patios. I loved the warmth and exotic smells, ocean air in the breeze, Spanish snippets of conversation as people were out and about, glimpsing some Mediterranean blue at the bottom of the hill and feeling the warm road under my feet.

There was an esplanade running the length of the beach and I would walk to the end of that strip, turn around and walk back. All this would take me about 45 minutes or an hour and it was bliss. Watching people enjoying the beach, breathing in the fresh air and walking quickly. That made me happy.

rain, holiday and art

It's been raining heavily again here and you wouldn't believe it's the end of June - I've been filling my hot water bottle regularly. Well, you know, I get cold easily...

We're going on our summer holiday to Cornwall on Saturday and I'm so hoping the weather will shape up by then. I want to lap up the sun on the beach, wear my summer dresses and go for walks along the coastal path. Like in this painting. It's one of my favourites and I love most everything this painter does - he's called Nicholas Hely Hutchinson. You can find him here, but I put some of his paintings up too if you want to see. Along with some other art I like, I plan to put stuff up whenever I remember or find something new.

Hoping you have sun where you are! Take care.

There goes the fear

Out of here
We're out of here
Out of heartache
Along with fear

There goes the fear again
There goes the fear

Close your brown eyes
And lay down next to me
Close your eyes, lay down
'Cos there goes the fear
Let it go

You turn around and life's passed you by
You look to ones you love to ask them why
You look to those you love to justify
You turned around and life's passed you by
Passed you by again

-----

There goes the fear again
Let it go
There goes the fear
Let it go

The Doves

This song was in my head all through the three month yoga retreat I attended. Especially during the month of complete silence it would pipe up whenever I got lost in thoughts, making me smile. It was like a friend, a happy feeling somewhere inside, a crazy drum beat that would make my heart flutter and my body feel light and mischievious. The retreat was a retreat in the true sense of the word with no contact with the outer world and no music apart from the singing, playing of instruments and dancing we occasionally did in the evenings. This retreat was very difficult and frightening for me in some ways and some aspects of myself that were challenged there I am still struggling with.

However, it was very important to me as well because I learnt so much and found myself in a way I might not have had I never gone, so I am grateful. Hearing this song again yesterday I wanted to write about it because when I came back out from the ashram listening to this song was one of the first things I did. It was like drinking water after having been thirsty for a very long time and the feeling still makes me happy, that crazy drum beat escalating, jumping up and down with the joy of being free, shaking all the heaviness out of my body.

'Cos there goes the fear. Let it go.

The One Who is at Home

Each day I long so much to see
The true teacher. And each time
At dusk when I open the cabin
Door and empty the teapot,
I think I know where he is:
West of us, in the forest.

Or perhaps I am the one
Who is out in the night,
The forest sand wet under
My feet, moonlight shining
On the sides of the birch trees,
The sea far off gleaming.

And he is the one who is
At home. He sits in my chair
Calmly; he reads and prays
All night. He loves to feel
His own body around him;
He does not leave his house.

Francisco Albanez, translated by Robert Bly