Another Kind of Strength
One You Can Rely On
Dear friend,
Last night’s awards ceremony was fun, hanging out with friends and chatting about things that matter. We had a dance too, the DJ came out and joined us on the dance floor.
Returning home as the taxi turned the corner at the top of our street I saw that the giant animated skeleton in a neighbour’s garden had had its forearms ripped off. One of them lay on the pavement. I felt for the poor creature, even if it is made of plastic and electrical circuitry, I wondered who did that? Kids maybe. Tall kids. Or maybe ingenious acrobatic kids.
I stepped out of the taxi at our house into the freezing night and trotted back to rescue the discarded limb. I felt a little foolish as the taxi driver made a three point turn and drove past me; even more so waving as he passed.
“I’m just going to pick up the skeleton’s missing body parts - as you do.”
One of the plastic forearms had become caught in a bush on the neighbours side of the fence, it was well after midnight so I scooped up the bones from the pavement and dropped it will an alarming clatter into the garden, hitting paving stones.
If I’d heard that noise in our back garden it would have me sitting bolt upright in bed.
I made myself scarce, content in the knowledge of acting ay least from a good intention.
Today the skeleton is there, still minus forearms. I’m guessing they’ve become a semi permanent feature of the street. Hopefully they will remain intact until our neighbours make the time to box up their bones for a rest.
I’ve spent some of today dismantling, cleaning and dating my old Vox AC30.
I’m putting her up for sale to raise funds for the business Jeremy and me have started together. Some old amps don’t have serial numbers on them, but the speakers have a code stamped on them that you can only see if you take the speakers out.
The speakers were made in February 1963 so that would date the amp around 1964 most likely.
I’m also listing my lovely 1960’s Vox Lynx guitar, which isn’t getting played much.
It’s a practice of letting go of things. Letting life and energy flow.
Even though I do feel a hint of a pain in my heart saying goodbye to them.
I happily anthropomorphise things, sensing their soul; it’s the living world I prefer to the inanimate one bequeathed by materialism. The idea still thrives with some people that our earth is a resource and not a living sentient being.
There are even people who question whether animals have emotions and feelings and form meaningful relationships.
There’s that moment when you realise not everyone thinks and sees things as you do. It can come as a shock and you’ll see some groups and individuals react strongly to fight that realisation. We’re seeing it in the lurch to the right of the political spectrum.
The ones who think differently are made into an enemy to be conquered or vanquished, run out of town and country.
But this is the thin edge of a wedge that is opening up the cracks in the minds of the people who are in this state of being. I see it as a longer process.
Realising others think differently eventually leads a person to realising that they themselves are thinking.
Becoming aware of thought, gradually it dawns on you that you are not your thinking.
Space opens up and with it an often confusing need to change.
It’s a circuitous path. There’s a lot of noise and bafflement, sham and extraordinary mind stopping suffering on this ghost train. Globally it’s scary right now, but I’m trusting that somehow we’re going in the direction of peace.
It’s a quiet strength, seeking the lowest places, like water flowing around or over or through the rocks in people’s heads and hearts.
A strength we can trust.
You and me and everyone we know caring for the things of the earth and for each other.
Star beings.
Born in that distant explosion at the making of the universe.
Imagine we’ve been here all of this time.
In this one moment.
All of this change.
Like rivers.
Seeking the ocean.
Coming home.
To peace.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey