Mendi (the_mendicant) wrote in london_070705,
Mendi
the_mendicant
london_070705

Reflections Upon a River.....

The following is something I received in my in-box this morning from a service called Thought for the Day.

The dead weight of our personal histories is like a ball and chain. It stops us from being here now, from seeing what we need to understand here and now and from doing what we need to do here and now. It blocks our ability to meet others with fresh eyes and an open mind. Even worse is when we can’t wait to tell others our story, as we mistakenly think it is vital to their understanding of life. We don’t realize it but the re-running of our personal history is killing our own freedom. Freedom has no history. Besides, most peoples stories are already built on an illusion that they are someone whom they are not! Give up your personal history. If you don’t have a story you do not have to live up to it. Embrace it and toss it…every day. The wake is the trail of the boat not what drives it.

www.relax7.com


It struck a chord within me and has enabled me to write about how I have felt since the bombs on Thursday. It was of course a terrible occurence which touches us all, whether we were personally involved or not. LJ is a prime example of how we are all connected - on the LJ Group specifically set up for Londoners on Thursday, I read a comment by a complete stranger, which touched me enough to want to look at their profile. Turns out this person has 8 or 9 totally dispersed LJ friends in common with me. I don't know this person's history and I don't need to - the people we have in common speaks volumes and persuades me that this person is someone I would like and trust if I ever met them.

In a similar way, things like the reaction to the Tsunami, and the global coming together of Live Aid and Live 8, prove to me that you are all my neighbours and my family. Like family, I may not get on with you all, or see you as often as I should, but nontheless we are connected, and responsible for each other. If I pollute and rape the planet in the name of my comfort, my brother or sister in the third world suffers as a consequence. If you threaten and mame the innocent with bombs in London or Bali or Bhagdag, in the misguided name of religious zealotry, you are threatening and maiming me, for I am a child of the stars, just as you are.

The quotation above is about letting go your past and allowing the future to take care of itself. I am who I am today, because of my past, but my future is out there somewhere and I'm happy for it to take me where it will. This weekend has been very happy for me, I have worked hard and played hard and whilst remembering the awful suffering of others in London right now, I do not feel guilty. Rather I offer my peace as a spiritual upload to the general karma to balance out some of the negativity.

Last night, robinbloke, vyvyan, razornet and I went for a night punt on the Cam, going to the meadows at Grantchester. We were escorted along the river by a beautiful black swan, who sailed right next to the boat, leaning his neck over the side occasionally, looking for crisps. We arrived at the meadows just as the light was fading from the sky. A small portable BarBQ was produced and we ate sirloin steak and venison, surrounded by tea lights as dark night descended. I drank red wine and shared a joint as we told stories and finally fell asleep where we lay, on a blanket, under a huge willow tree. We dozed through the cold night air, cuddled up for warmth and not even minding the slight misty rain. By half past 3 it was light once more, so we packed up and got once more into the boat. Robin poled us home through the silent dawn waters, reflections of the sky, fractured by the ripples of our passing. Then into the silent world slid the dawn chorus. We passed a song thrush and never such a sweet sound have i heard - his greeting to a new day will live in my heart for the rest of my days. Mist rolled away, dawn turned to day and a flotilla of geese passed us, trumpeting their presence. Black lambs on the bank bleated, and ducks dabbled. As day fully arrived, we disembarked and were carried home to bed in a taxi.

I give you my morning <:@)
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 6 comments