The video above is probably not worth your while watching, well not unless you have absolutely nothing to do and are of a mind to watch someone else doing apparently very little. It’s me finishing off a painting, in the sunshine (at last), in my little piece of heaven, accompanied by my housemates, the birds.
I was thinking last night about doing a blog on growing fruit and veg. Not on the practicalities of it, I have no desire to impose that on anyone, but the pleasures of it, the joys of working with nature to create sustenance for oneself. It’s certainly not an easy option. There’s a lot of work involved and I’d suggest if you want cost effective you go to Tescos. If I costed out my time this is incredibly expensive produce. But then again, the time spent, the realisations of ones part in the whole scheme and cycle of things is priceless. Of course we all know this in theory, but knowing with the head is really not comparable with the doing and living of. The pleasures of watching stuff grow, of ones little successes (and indeed failures), of understanding how you can use nature’s complexities to work in harmony with itself, and you, the taste of that which you’ve grown and just cut or picked or pulled out of the soil is incredible. It reminds me, yet again, that the real joys in life are the simple ones, the connections, the engagements with, the beauty of being a part of something, even if that is sometimes painful.
It’s a shame so much of life, or what is presented as life, would suggest it’s in detaching from, battling with, avoiding in all manner of forms, which is what we should be striving for. In all our man made nonsenses and attempts to achieve dominion over reality we so often lose it. Here I am, in my little piece of heaven (and sometimes hell), and I am glad of it.
Many years ago (maybe quarter of a century) a book came into my hands which seemed in many ways to sum up the essence of the way I view a number of aspects of life. It appeared at the time to be quite a cerebral tome, though it’s an allegory, but the writer put quite a lot of complexity in there, along with subtle concepts which expressed some important issues for me. I have no idea what happened to my copy. I can’t remember if I lent it to someone or if it vanished in some other way, but it’s long gone. I wrote something inside the cover, along the lines of ‘the moment you claim enlightenment is the moment you’ve lost it’. It didn’t tell me this in the book but it seemed relevant at the time.
Something that was said to me the other day, a friend sharing an experience he’d had years ago, reminded me of it. Over the years I’ve thought of it, but just assumed it would be out of print. I must admit I’ve also wondered if it would have a similar, or indeed any impact on me now, and wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. Some things are of a certain time, give us what we need, and then we move on. I didn’t really want to risk a sense of disappointment, but now I’m going to find out. I looked on Amazon and there are second hand copies so I’ve ordered one.
I’m not going to mention its title here, I’d rather take a look myself first and possibly report back. But the point isn’t really the content of the book, but that certain things in life seem to find us at exactly the ‘right’ moment and reveal just what is needed, and those moments of revelation are just beautiful, moments which can sometimes change our lives forever. Of course those can come in any number of ways, and can also be brought about through something incredibly simple. Someone saying something where a lightbulb goes on over your head, a connection with another person which touches a part of ourselves we’d either forgotten about or had never seen, or even a small simple pleasure which manifests as some kind of peak moment. You know, those times that make life worthwhile (if indeed you find it so, I certainly do).