Diary - Xmas 2008 in Provence

23/12/08:

Sitting here in Aix - "chez Annie", having digested a delightful spinach quiche, salad and a demi-carafe of local red - the missus and littl'un having just popped out to buy a gift for Annie's (proprietress) daughter Chloe who has recently given birth to her first child.

Sitting here in Provence - mid-winter, bright, bright sunlight and a sky of immeasurably delightful deep, azure blue.

This place has character, class, beauty and finesse.  There is something uniquely fine and uplifting about this part of the world.  A combination of perfect climate - evergreen vegetation which matches its summer splendour, now in the depth of winter; the affable busyness and laid-back intensity of local shoppers, yet always the time to pass the time of day with friends and acquaintances - a chat, a shared laugh, baisers on both cheeks and on to the next assignment...

The brogue of Southern French mingles gracefully with the buzzing/farting 2-stroke engines of mopeds busying around ancient, narrow cobbled streets like worker bees.  The ancient stone of the hills, crowded out by all manner of vine and deciduous branch; eternal amber sunlight highlighting the multi-coloured and fine architecture that heralds an ancient Mediterranean world of civility, timelessness and endearing, noble proportion of design.

Awakening this morning after a 14-hour drive across this vast country - from a limpid London, foggy and tired in its pre-dawn somnambulance.

8am:  Throwing open the pea-green shutters at Roumanille: a gasp of wonderment at an impeccably pristine clarity of azure blue, gently tapering into a velvet orange at the merging of sky with distant mountain...inhaling a pure nectar of pine-filled scent that courses through body and enthrals the spirit.

A timeless and ecstatic moment of connection with mother earth in transcendent intimacy and supplicative will.  I have come home again...

Déjà vu, toujours vu...

25/12/08: Xmas day:

The day broke - grey damp and cold: extraordinary how we apply our perceptions onto our lives - the world, neutral, as it was, is and always will be:- manifesting just as it is.

Our shifting ambience, moods, perceptions and feelings - these are constantly changing and directly affect what appears ‘out there...'

How wonderful to rise early, here, in the verdant foothills of the Alps; magnificent and arousing scent of pine and the gentle breath of wilderness cascading through our senses.

The overwhelming peace and noiseless impeccability of the countryside seeps into my ethereal, tired body.

I take a deep breath as I sit on mottled pink slabs of the living room floor; having forgotten to pack my zafu and zabuton (sitting cushion and mat), I make do with local bench seat cushions; I breath in deeply and expel air.  Adjust my posture, straighten my back, tuck chin in, lower eyelids and gaze into whitewashed wall...

Gradually all aches and pains and mental anxieties subside, I observe my thoughts...taking me back, back, am now 3-years-old, it is Xmas in '55, I toddle into the dining room - Santa's grotto sparkling in the fireplace, it is very cold, snowing and white outside, a sharp greyness abounds - there waiting for me is a huge, shiny red pedal car, as real as real can be; delight, excitement grabs me...the image fades, now back to the present.  I observe myself merging into the eternal present moment - a wondrous sense of intimacy envelopes my world and I feel a huge and strong correspondence with all of existence; I feel peace and a strange, dislocated joy; aware of the limited span of my current frame, nevertheless I give thanks for the grace of consciousness.

The world of human awareness is a continuous cycle of events repeating themselves endlessly with variation over the span of individual and collective lifetimes.

Another moment, another day, another Christmas, just like the last one, yet entirely different - new, yet old, close at home, yet estranged from, understood yet mysterious.

The great dilemma that is our birthright continues unabated despite our leanings and imaginings - as it was, is and will be...I give thanks for the beneficent birth of Jesus, a true Bodhisattva who has brought so much love into our world, peace to him and all mankind.

Sat 27/12/08

Upon awakening this morning, I cast a lingering glance out of our first floor bedroom window.  Our rustic hideaway affords a wonderful view across a wide valley, perched as it is, on the side of the Grand Luberon, a vast horizontal foothill here in the mountains.  Gazing across this beautiful wilderness of pure forest, ancient grey and brown hills and rock buttresses, the horizon was suffused with brilliant early morning illumination.

The sky, mainly overcast with grey impenetrable cloud, was broken at horizon's edge.  The sun, rising, threw out a golden glow of great intensity that lit up everything and transformed the world with a mass of vibrant hues and colour.  My spirits lifted, as the last couple of days have been sunless.  As I prepared to sit, my soul seemed to sing with joy, immersed as it was with this golden energy.

It is extraordinary how the light of the sun can affect our mood and bequeaths a truly appropriate metaphor for correspondence with our moods and feelings.  As I sat, the sun, rising further, abounded this clear crack in the sky and very soon disappeared behind the grey blanket of cloud, hovering above. 

Immediately the wall in front of me became quite dark and I felt an immediate correspondence of feeling from within.  The dance of joy became subdued and an abject melancholy gripped my inner perception.  The light went out; yet I have learned not to identify with these subtle changes of feeling and simply to observe the unfolding moment, and this is what I saw:-

The reality of consciousness is not fixed and therein lies a great beauty, peace and constancy.

Changing irrevocably, the less we attach to this denouement, the more able are we to benefit from the fruits of detachment.  Each moment brings with it clarity and freshness, it is only our clinging and fear that prevent us from basking in this reality; our judgementalism that fixes the moment into a tired framework of either boredom, frustration, smugness or similar perception.  The challenging task is remain open, honest and have the courage to let go of the familiar path; not easy and mostly downright inconvenient.  The Dharma sets us straight and we need only trust in the truth that non-interference leads to awakening.

The method is simple - a daily commitment to sitting still and letting go of our imagined control over our lives and unfolding histories.

Having arisen from my contemplation this morning, a mottled sky affords a gaily-changing carousel of light and dark to welcome in a new day of fun and delight...

*

*

holidays

are like

holy days..

*

without agenda,

save to

relish, savour

and apprehend

the simpler aspects

 of living.

*

reminding

oneself to

let go of worldly concerns,

aspirations and goals.

*

learning to

be present,

fully, wholly,

without the

slightest rancour,

longing or movement

away from the

 here and now.

*

ahh! simple

pleasures,

sweet simplicity!

holidays

are holy days

 indeed..

*

words & painting by si@fu

greeting

 the returning albion,

‘old blighty'

puts on a brave face...

grudgingly forgiving one

the insouciance

of betrayal;

mainland europe

has many attractions -

great food,

marvellous architecture,

stunning scenery..

but after awhile,

‘old blighty' beckons

with her

scruffy apparel,

dire humour,

open arms to

all comers with a sense of

 fair play

and decency,

but best of all,

a

real non-judgemental

and laissez faire

approach to life..

gawd bless

you mam..

brrrr!

*

diving into

the moment,

with soundless splash,

the universe opens

unto me..

spontaneously

my body melts,

as sand running through

an hourglass..

I touch every piece of existence

with my thoughts,

intense peace abounds,

silently reverberating

across boundless galaxies..

I love being here, there,

everywhere..

the ripples of my smile

cascade like mountainous ranges

across the emptiness that fills

all space..

I die happily at each moment,

to be reborn - instantly -

again and again and again,

diving into

 the moment.

*

*

the fog,

swirling around in a grey

and clinging mist -

a

characteristic smell

pervades the ether..

there is

comfort in the anonymity provided

by this velvet-hued curtain.

head dipped down, making progress

 forward in a blindly trusting way

what cannot be seen

cannot be a threat

ne'ertheless,

the curtain has to rise..

eventually;

stark reality inevitably reappears,

 the sharp and vibrant shapes

of the world

manifest, often causing fear

 and

apprehension..

many trials precede

understanding,

myriad reality checks

cause consternation..

eventually however,

with faith and patience,

the reality that lies

quivering

behind the veil

of conceit and self obsession

beckons..

the starkness and inviolability

of the truth

becomes an eternal succour;

the fog no longer contains more

 than merest illusion,

the wizened mind burns

it away to sit more properly in the

blazing light

of understanding and

steadfast Presence.

*

forever knocking on some door

to all appearances abandoned,

yet with slightest effort - prised apart,

therein amongst the debris

*

it struck me

 this morning whilst sitting,

the amazing correspondence

between breathing

and the rhythm of the surf

at ocean's edge..

indescribable

 thrill of natural breath

working autonomously,

day in day out,

on and on..

 deep satisfaction of the

effortless drawing in of oxygen,

then exhalation of used air,

gently dispelled from frame,

again and again

and again..

how marvellous would it be

if the rhythm of one's breath

was as tranquil as the

ineffable meandering of surf!

imagine if you will

breathing in as the pull of

thousands of kilometres of water

drags salty foam

 across the sand..

many moments later,

 fresh ripples of foam cascade

mightily forward,

breaking laterally along  

 beach's infinite width..

another moment,

another breath,

eternal repose.

*

returning to the moment

is, quite simply

 the only way

to travel

coming back. to this..

daily we travel out into the world,

effortlessly caught up

in the fantasies

of our social persona

so caught up in these imaginings

as to be emotionally

snagged into believing what

we feel is real -

is the truth;

and yet that

still small voice

ne'er satisfied..

striving for that extra piece

of the puzzle that will

make it all

okay..

my advice..

give it up

get up with it

let go of cherished constructs

of stability and permanence,

throw yourself into the abode

of emptiness and unknowing,

for therein lies the key

to wisdom compassion

and tranquillity

returning to the moment

is simply the only way

to travel

coming back. to this..

try it..

*

that

 ubiquitous, indefinable

still small voice,

 more that you

 struggle to hear It,

most elusive

 does it become..

and yet this

modest companion

is our foundation,

our salvation,

our succour in times

of inchoate delusion..

without conscious

apprehension,

upon its Truth

do we depend..

delighting in obscurity,

dependent for recognition

solely upon our

 faith, silence, stillness

and humility,

that

 ubiquitous, indefinable

still small voice,

more that you

 struggle to hear It,

most elusive

 does it become..

*

sometimes, I

feel so blessed..

waves of pure power

 and enchantment

ignite my awareness

in a dance of

 transcendent energy..

a love that

 is the cornerstone of existence

penetrates every breath,

every nuance, and

illuminates

the darkest corner

of the furthest realm

of my imaginings..

I cannot expect

this feeling to last..

I feel so undeserving..

god help us

and protect us from

our wildest excesses

and grant us succour amidst

 our foolhardy and

magnificent

musings!