Dear Friend
Moments of beautiful spring sunshine are illuminating the garden. The kitchen clock ticks away the seconds and I’m considering making a second pot of coffee. Chiara is away in Italy and we’re both starting to find these lengthy periods of time away from one another difficult.
It’s easier for me I think, because I’m at home with my books and instruments. Home. A place we make together. There’s a sweetness to our missing. Still crazy after all these years as the song goes.
Later today Katie will be coming over to relax after her hospital procedure and I’ll cook something healthy.
I do love public holidays.
It’s not that everything stops, maybe it’s more to do with giving oneself permission to rest in the moment. Taking a break from the narrative in the head, all the stuff to get done.
I will have a second pot.
I had an image pop into my mind of all of the people I’ve ever loved or been loved by as figures in a fresco. Human and animal, family and friends, people who have passed out of the material world. I saw them as they appeared in daily life except in the style of Miguel Angelo. Winged and smiling down from the sky.
Surrounded by angels, guided by the insistent gentle winds of love. Moving, slowly and uncertainly, but moving in the direction of greater love for ourselves and others.
I’m remembering a science class. It was a straight forward plan. We were learning to use thermometers to measure the boiling point of water. We had to observe the process and make notes. The sunlight was like it is today, bright and clear. We had bunsen burners with their chalky orange rubber tubes connected to the little gas taps on our work benches. Beakers on charred metal tripods.
Watching the water swirl and eddy then bubble and roll. The vapour condensing on the beaker sides, escaping and flying upwards.
Taking the measurements began to seem irrelevant. A distraction from the wonder unfolding in a beaker of boiling liquid.
Liquid life.
The teacher explained how changes of state relate to energy. Take away energy by cooling and the water becomes solid ice. Add energy and solid turns to liquid and liquid to vapour.
Higher energy, greater freedom.
Compassionate thoughts have a higher more pleasant energy than attacking ones.
I do hope that reading the Lost & Found Dept helps in some way for you to connect to kindness and self acceptance.
All of the things we believe we have to do and be to be acceptable to ourselves and others.
The stories the false self tells us are at best unstable.
Stories we learned as true.
We’re living and breathing fictional characters in a play of our own co-creation.
Who we are when we remove the costume.
The human spirit.
The innocence with which we came into this world.
We cannot be separated from that.
No matter what tales the false self weaves.
They all fall away in the end.
Why not tell a new tale.
You as love.
Loved.
Loving
Eternal.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey