Inner Journeys

The waves are rolling in. This morning I have been sitting by the ocean. Before the light arrived I was already there. Sitting. Waiting. In the dark when you can not use your eyes to contact that moving living mass you are still aware of its livingness. Even when it´s totally still, no sounds coming off, you still feel it. It has a presence to it. Immense. Width and depth equally unbeholdable. It is Huge! And it is still. As you sit like I have been doing this morning you get affected by this. The silence of the ocean gently lures my familiar inner unsettledness into quietening. Out of this an ease is birthed. I love it.

This morning was special though. In this dark mass of holding, somewhere, there was a threat: a vague danger, potentially hurtful, lurking around reminding me of the Old. When will it jump my throat? And the response; " I must protect, must defend! Attack is the best defence - show yourself, you thing! Bring it on, I'm ready for you! Give it to me!!" Alert alert! Staying aware of the Ocean and, with my attention divided, at the same time on the threat, it seemed, after a long while, like the threatening started to be smitten by the Stillness. Settling down. Or possibly it was simply the hyper alertness of my defensive system that downgraded to a less intense level - making an accurate evaluation of the reality of the actual situation. The threat was not really real. Could be. I don´t really know. Guess the day ahead will prove that.

Now, the hesitant sun is up, working its way through a thin layer of clouds. Hopefully it will make its way through to the trees! Leaves just starting to change colour, yellow and red.

More later

Mavas

And the travelling proceeds: days and nights have passed since my latest entry. Landscapes passing by like clouds in the sky. Yesterday the country side was still, precise, with unmoving presence, the air and the space saturated with the brittle freshness of a northern frosty fall morning.
Today, sun using up the last ambition of this year to shower us with gold. That intense heatless golden light. It brings creation, creativity reducing unattended piles. Once again clear, fresh.
The communicated lives on its own; this morning I was imprisoned - now, excreted through that rugged mind, the created flies on silent wings, free, unbound. Me? Crisp, with freezing feet.
Tonight we reach another pass, high or low we know not yet. The bending of the river, the turning of the road on the other side of the horizon is unknown. I like it that way. It can be no other was; the now I live was born on the other side of the horizon. it moved to me. As I, on my travels, move towards the horizon, it keeps moving back, away from me! The Horizon always remain way off. I have this silly sense that the horizon births me. That I lie as a streak on this embryological plate and am created, time after time, with regular intervals, by the horizon. It is very soothing.
The sights of travelling are truly amazingly beautiful! This is the way to live!
Later. More.

Trying to understand how this blogthing operates. Think I managed to find out how to add photos to the entries. Here comes the bear:

Got out of bed way too early for a Sunday morning. The dog hesitantly following me downstairs to the living room and the antique mac book. Not a lot of inspiration in sight. Ckecking the horizon - no inspiration in sight. Checking the ground - no inspiration in sight. Checking the sky itself - maybe a slight whisk there.
Trying to wade my ways through the GReat Desert Plain of the interior landscape, slipping on the dunes. Can´t feel much support under my feet. Where a few months and weeks ago there was the realisation of up to then unexperienced stability and non complexity there is now a vague sense of unrest, of discomfort, of not feeling the direction. A sense of being in a landscape different to the expected one. Maybe I am way off? Maybe I am ok? Maybe its just a weather change?
We´ll see if the sun burns away the grey of the mist and reveals the glory of the natural nature in its simplicity.

Horison

Dear blog
Here I am, sitting at the kitchen table getting ready to send my genes off to some far away exotic places. My genes go, not me! This is the way to see the world?