My dogs have taken to star gazing in the cold night sky,following in a long line of our dogs that have graced the home over the past 30 years.My patience has often been tested as,unlike cats,they need to be let out to views their night time Astronomy festivals.Tonight,all told,they must have been outside at least 6 times,and always with the same old scratching at the door,To he dependent on you like they are in quite interesting to me.It teaches me to realise that we are all dependent on one another far more than we realise.Yes,we might pride ourselves in our independence ,as we forge a life for ourselves where we fool ourselves that we are masters of our own destiny.Paradoxically,when we take stock of ourselves by just observing our pets,we might be surprised about just how much we do indeed need others.Granted,we might have all the provisions sown up .What I mean is this,the acquisition of hygiene factors might fool us into thinking that we have all we need,that we have by the work ofour hands,provided these things,and thus we don’t need anything else.
Through the Sun rays today,I felt the cold,that chill in the air:Not much of an observation,more of a feeling,but very real nonetheless.Tomorrow so they -our weather experts,aka my fellow brits-tell me it’s going to be minus 5,quite warm for Norway I suppose.Its probably one reason why we don’t not win many medals at the Winter Olympics,that would explain why it’s always Curling curling curling!!!!,
So,I prepare for tomorrow by getting my sweater out and refraining from the Parkrun-us lightweight Cornish people know our limitations.Talking of Curling,it’s amazing that every 4 years,we become expert in a sport that non of us in England ever participate in.Odd that!Well,live and let live that what we say eh.No harm done,and besides,the best sports are played in our armchairs.It does amaze me though that we sometimes allow the media to drive our mind ,fostering an energy that really hasn’t ever been ours,but we get swept along by it.
So,yes,it’s cold out there,and might get colder,so I feel for those spring flowers,those animals who might have been tempted to come out of the hybination holes.
We are so very fortunate ,by and large,that we face little threats On a day to day basis on our existence.
Oh well,of to teach,to discuss Camel,Dave Greenslade,the acoustics years of Dylan ,the Ry Cooder and J J Cale albums.Not a bad life ,or I could be down a mine like my ancestors did.
From the light of this February morning ,I observe the early flowering’s of the Dorset springtime.With the sound backdrop of the birds in the trees in my garden,they dip into my consciousness,like that feeling of dunking a biscuit into your tea at mid morning !Granted,an odd analogy in many ways but one that came to mind and didn’t appear offensive or stupid.My dogs are hopeful that I will allow them to sleep on the sofa for the whole of the morning ,oblivious to the need to know their place and get out into the kitchen when I go off in a while.Now,it won’t come as a surprise to you that I talk to my dogs and always have done.It seems a good arrangement:They are real,they love you unconditionally,and they sometimes bark back-rarely in truth though.
As I attend to the sounds that occupy my outward world,the bird song mingles with that afterness Of cars on their way to places familiar or unfamiliar.Its not a pressing need I have to know what they are up to,merely an acknowledgement that they are there and I am here.Now,a minute or so after the bird song mingl8ng,their songs become more pronounced as if I’ve become more attuned to their concert.Oftentimes,I get annoyed with myself for not taking note of their songs,as if they are like nature’s buskers playing their little hearts out and I am just walking past in my own little world.So,when I get times such as these when their song is more lucid,I race my mind almost to concentrate,to respectfully listen.
Listening is ,to me, an art of the heart,it embraces a side of us that almost demands a level of humility from us.You See,if we can’t listen,or we are just hoping to interject with something ourself,we are struggling with the joy that can be had from the opinions of others.Yes,we all have opinions,but it’s good for us to delve into what others think.
Now,Granted,these birds don’t have opinions,but they sing ,they communicate ,they deserve an audience.That point I believe is my salient one for today:We have an opinion but until we listen to the opinions of others,our opinions lack nuance,they lack definition because we don’t know how good our opinions are until we allow them to be tested to a degree at the feet of others.
Now,my mind might be full of other sounds this morning:Those sounds are internalised and not subject to the natural laws of Physics that these external bird song sounds are.So,why would I repudiate those natural sounds in favour of co ceptual ones in my head?By way of a connection,I hear my voice internally in many ways,but the sound of my voice is far different to me that the sound of my voice to my hearers.Likewise,the sound of my opinions might be a whole lot different to me than to those that I might wish to influence.
So,this has been my muse for today.Its about listening,respecting that all sentient beings have a place in our life surely.Its about listening to the words of others,their ideas,their style of delivery.
It’s on these very clear nights,quite cold I suppose,that I tend to remember those people who affected me,influenced me,taught me lessons that they might term common sense,but lessons that in fact often saved me from serious mistakes.Sometimes,my willingness to speak my mind has cost me dearly,almost to the core,but ,I have done things to show that I’m real and not fake.Now,at times like that,you fond out who your friends are and it can be a huge surprise .Although ,I bare no one any ill will,to be blanked in the street by those whom I had known for decades is truly a tough gig,a profound slight of my humanity,but with so much help from others ,I survived that time.During those years of self righteousness on my part,I played my part in judging my fellowman of being unworthy to just be themselves.Yes,I bitterly regret that and as the grave will be my time for silence I want to put that out there tonight.
Now I write my muse as a fellow human ,a man of sixty,a musician ,a teacher,but essentially,a human being with all the frailties that come with just being human and I thank you for reading my blog posts ,for putting up with the terrible spellings and grammar,but I truly hope that my words and phrases might just touch a heart and the journey through life that I tread and have tread might have helped many ,a few,or even just one.
Now,as I think on those who through the being “captives of a concept”,I am humbled by the possession of a free mind,no more,no less.
As the stars outside shine brightly,it is my intention to shine as brightly as a human being and to say my piece and not to be silent for in silence ,history has taught us that we all became sharers of atrocities to mankind.
Thank you .
Our February elements are making their mark on us here in East Dorsetshire today.Rain,coupled with intermittent wind make it a miserable day to commute or just to get about.If that is a rather bizarre weather account then maybe I should express myself or elaborate at least.You See,try as we may,we can’t help but comment on the weather us Brits,and although I have pretentions of being European,scuppered as it has been by Brexit and all the ramifications there of,I am a Brit.So,my muse is a nod of respect to the rain ,the elements,the conditions that affect us all.
Now,I’ve not got too many pressing reasons to venture outside except for one:My car is jammed full with garden waste ready to be taken to the municipal tip for recycling,so,you could say that I ought to bite that bullet and venture out in this downpour.Its quite a easy place to drive to,and my excuses for not going,rather like my excuses for not doing my running are rather pathetic.However,not being an advocate of a self inflicted cold,I will hold off on my journey for just a while,as I hoe that the rain will ease as the morning progresses.
Sometimes,procrastination has a practical benefit in Oh so many ways,it insulate us from rather rash decisions that we can’t fulfill.Yes,the word isn’t up there with the most desirable qualities that one should manifest.Imagine going for an interview for a job as a blue sky thinker,well if you said that you were a procrastinator,it would hardly be likely that you would progress beyond the first round.No,I’m beginning to think that my own argument is suspect.But you see,we all argue with ourselves so many times,or we introspect about ourselves so much that often the end result is inertia.Personally,I don’t think that it’s a bad thing in all instances in life,especially if getting wet is the end result !!!
It’s now 9 o clock,and looking out of the window,the weather has indeed eased a little,and my waterproof coat beckons to be donned,but I’ve enjoyed writing my thought muse for this morning.Now,if your the type of person who never has an issue with arguing with themselves,then your all stout fellows and good luck to you.But if you,like me,suffer from this mental malady ,then roll with the mental punches as it were and see where it takes you.You might be surprised.
Have a great day.
You know it is,but you hold on,
From Friday night to Sunday tea,
Oh,it’s over for another week,
Tomorrow,tomorrow and tomorrow,
We’ll,Monday won’t be judgement day,but it’s another day,
For some,it will be a stressful meeting,a deadline ,a team briefing,
For others,another “Tell me why,I don’t like Monday’s”,
Whatever it is,may the sun come up in your life,
May you find some solace in your Monday,
Merry Monday,one and all.
On very cold nights,when the temperatures reach -minus 2 to minus 5,I wonder if the early daffodils will survive the frost.Now,many a late frost has decimated other more late flowering plants let alone our common daffs,but my thoughts are with these beautiful flowering bulbs.
They lighten up our days as the onset of early spring beckons our attention,and we look to turn our backs on another Winter for another year at least.My impression of this transition period in between the seasons is akin to a Bridge section in a popular song,or the transition bars in the first movement of a symphony from the exposition to the development section.Actually,the symphony that comes to my mind is the Mozart number 40 in G Minor and as I mentally play through that section ,I visualise it in the form of this vistas of daffodils flowers almost like a blister on concealed yellow waiting to appear.
Why,the sheer delight that these flowers bring is echoed in dining rooms up and down the country as bunches of early daffs,normally from Cornwall,make their way to those dwellings,brightening up the interiors for the inhabitants to enjoy.Such simple plants ,normally £1 per bunch of 10 blooms .That adds up to wonderful value ,when you think of the efforts that go into picking them.It got me thinking aboUt our words:Are they colourful like these spring bulbs?Do they grace the recipients?Do they act as a healing to the eyes?
These are my words in the form of a blog post tonight,but please notice these wonderful bulbs as I’m use you will anyway.They will be out in abundance very soon,and you can,if you wish ,purchase some to grace your hallway,living room,or bedroom.In fact,wherever your eyes can focus on them,welcome them along with healing words that might refresh and comfort .
There on Red red red,so we stop,
We stop because of the signal,
We stop because of the flow,
We stop because it’s the law,
We wait at the lights,”Come on,I’m in a hurry,come on COME ON”
We just have to wait,we have no choice,
We don’t always like waiting,
Oh good,the lights have changed,
We forget that we waited,
We get in line to pull away,
Oh,no,someone stalls,someone doesn’t move off,
We don’t think about why,it’s just that they are stopping us from moving,
So we bang on the steering wheel,we sound our horn,
We hate waiting any longer,we just hate it,
As the thought of waiting at the lights is so frustrating,
We have forgotten that some poor person doesn’t have a choice,
There car has stalled,
Instead of just being a fellow human and helping them we let out an expletive:We have quite an Arsenal all told,
Never get too impatient that you can’t wait even at the lights,
As many wait all their lives for Justice,for a measure of good health,a smidgeon of security,of happiness,
So,if your struggling to wait at the lights,watch your blood pressure,careful ,careful careful,
If you can’t wait at the lights without losing your cool,maybe you need to look at you,
And I must look at me,at me,at me,at me.
Crisp morning muse!
There is a crispness in the air outside today,inviting exploration,an outward perspective.From the gateway of my home,there isn’t any hindrance to getting out,a good day for a journey a winter picnic,a walk on the outreaches of the New Forest.Forming a mental image from being my garden just now,the chill in the air isn’t off putting,it’s a helpmate almost.I go through stages of being aware of my surroundings and maybe rationalising that it’s because I’m busy doing stuff.Wether this is really true,I know not,feeling that level of introspection isn’t worth it for that issue.Other issues are worth my mental energy and focus and I prefer to concentrate on that.When you walk outside in the crispness of a morning like this,you tend to pick up that feeling of freshness,it’s a real feel good factor in my comprehension and one that is positive and life affirming,
Many people before me have described these sorts of days in a far more convincing way,with poetic stanzas or prose doesn’t doesn’t make us doze but somehow allow us to come to our own emotional feelings too.Those gifts as expressed by a litany of greats harnessed their environment ,enriching our appetite for nature and all things indigenous to the country.Why,where would we be without those wonderful people who penned their thoughts ,never allowing the fickle nature of their contemporaries to dampen their sensitivities,It has always amazed me that artists can create masterpieces all their life,and yet struggle to feed themselves because the people around them failed to see ,to feel,to “get it”
To my way of thinking about it,we only have this one life to observe ,to feel our surroundings whatever they may be,and those observations on a day like today can harness a more upbeat disposition in amidst so much negativity that we are all apt to find ourselves in .Having got to this point in my muse today,I realise that I don’t have a title,I don’t have a strict description for my jottings today,but no matter in my opinion,as I was pleased to relate what I had observed.As I wrote that last confessional type sentence,the words of the great poet Wordsworth came to mind and it’s seems trite to repeat them as you will know them but suffice to say that those metaphorical images of wondering as a cloud ,penned during another age ,in the beauty of Cumbria as we know it,act as a narrative for my observations on this crisp Friday morning Today.
So,if your out and about,I hope that your able to soak up some of that Wordsworth magic in your meanderings wherever they may take you.