Don’t spend time beating on a wall hoping to transform it into a door.
I live in a country that has many divisions: race, religion, financial, gender, education, each accompanied by their own particular brand of entitlement. Sometimes I get frustrated by being included in that noun. But, even as I rail against the unfairness, I understand that it is true. As much as I might not like it, or want to admit it – I am entitled. I am protected by the gifts bestowed on me at birth, by the circumstances that existed in the place of my birth, by my education, by the options available to me because of all of these things.
But most of all – because I am wrapped in a pretty pink skin.
A simple week of being back at work that passed by in a flash. I find it hard sometime to believe that time is linear – it drifts in swirls and swoops when I am on holiday, then hurtles by when I am working. This week I was going to include a calendar I saw in a magazine … starting Jan 1, you tear off a day at a time – until there is nothing left at the end of the year. But that seemed too final and made me a little melancholy. So, I took my time and looked through the links, tear sheets, screen shots etc. that I saved during the holidays, and came up with these five. They cover life as I am living it right now.
I took a ridiculous amount of pleasure in finding a few scraggly-assed plants in my little veggie plot in McG.
Actually, to call it a veggie anything is a stretch – but it is there and it is ground and it has a couple of things growing in it, so it qualifies in my book. By the time you read this – it will have had a full overhaul and have been dug through and fertilised and well watered by Jan-the-gardener. And he and I would have planted cauliflower, beetroot and butternut seeds and split the garlic chives, spring onion, spinach, mint, peppadew and baby onion lurking along the edges, to see if we can get them to flourish. We will also have tenderly buried some sprouting baby red potatoes – donated by sofadad.
I was laying on the sofa yesterday after a messy attempt at making chocolate truffles. It was 39C/104F outside and only a few degrees less inside the house. But for some reason I had felt I should get this done right now. So I did.
Truffle making requires cool. I should have waited until evening – or, I should have had the fans on full bore, moving the dribbles of cool air around. But I didn’t – I attempted to make the truffles in high humidity, with only one fan blowing (because I should be conserving electricity) using the wrong chocolate and marscapone (because I had it to hand and should use it up). As a result it was a shambles.
There is a zen maze in McGregor, in the beautiful gardens at a retreat called Temenos. Each New Year’s Eve the maze is lined with candles in brown paper bags and the reflecting pond inside the small shrine adjacent is filled with fresh water. People from the village move through the gardens quietly, spend a few minutes beside the reflecting pond, take a piece of paper from the pile provided and write down something they wish to leave behind in the year that about to pass. Then they enter the maze with the intention in mind and walk the path ’til the centre. Once there, they drop the paper into a small brazier and watch as it burns, fanning the ashes gently into the night.
On the way back through the maze each focuses on a new intention – a take-forward into the year that is on the way.