An opening in the leaves and branches, looking down to an estuarine shore.
Sometimes an opening is all you need; sometimes you have to have openness just to see it.
May you have both!
Tag: Wellbeing
Failure Loops
What does failure look like?…feel like?
Like the shore with the tide receded and just not coming back in.
Like a tree stripped of leaves, branches twisted over into loops.
For failure can be a cycle, a seemingly endless loop.
And when you are in that loop, you feel so, so, stuck.
The harder you try, the worse it all seems to get.
The loop becomes a tightening noose.
All you do is hope and pray for anything that will act as a circuit breaker.
And when you find it, or the universe brings the tide back in, that will be success.
Remember then what failure looks and feels like, and appreciate that success.
Because you can’t truly know success without having experienced failure.
I’d Be Lost Without You
All my life I have had fascination with maps and cartography (the mapmaker’s art). I have a geography degree that hasn’t earned me a cent, but I don’t care.
As a child, I would pore over atlases and maps with their linear representations of different parts of the world – seas, mountains, rivers ,deserts, towns and cities.
I would get lost in those pages and charts, but a good lost, y’know ?
I took this photo of an old map on my recent travels in Scotland. It depicts Fife and its coastline. Heights in feet, depths in fathoms, as it was, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Look closer.
It’s really a guide to the lost and endangered, or maybe a series of warnings to prevent yourself getting in those predicaments in the first place.
Beacons, lights, storm signals and lifeboats(!) and their locations.
Because (and I say this from harsh experience),when you are truly lost (the bad lost), you need external direction and you must heed the signals that you receive from around you.
You might have a moral compass, but you ,alone, cannot be your own map…
Wise Old Beards
Four aerial root formations dangle from the branches of an ancient Pohutukawa tree.
Like woody stalagtites.
And like the beards of old wise men.
Wisdom.
The final request of The Serenity Prayer
The hardest thing to find, and when I really don’t have a clue, this favourite tree reminds me that it may come eventually…
Fencesitter Blues
If sitting a atop this pointy, gothic fence would not be a particularly comfortable proposition, neither is it when we do so in a metaphysical sense.
There is pain in procrastination; injury in indecision.
Doing neither one thing nor the other is often more tortuous than the perceived risk of doing something new or different, so you may as well jump (if I may be so pointed)…
To Get To The Light
Sometimes you will have to enter forbidding places and pass through darkness to get to the light.
Blue Swirl Reflections
Geometric swirls of a carved gateway to a Maori marae ( meeting place) reimagined in blue, and mirrored.
Not as the carver intended, but how it was in my mind’s eye, on a day where the mood was blue, little was calm in my head and mental waves churned like the sea below the marae.
And, after a little reflection (so to speak), I’m okay with that.
To Cross Over
                                   Footbridge, Raglan NZ
What does it take to cross over to the place where you want to be?
From misery to happiness.
From loneliness to love.
From failure to success.
What does it take?
Some sort of bridge, some way to cross over that which threatens to engulf you.
And when you find that bridge it will look like this one – not easy, straight, wide or comfortable.
And you, and only you (not even the ones who tell you it can be done) will have to walk it.
The Dear Burden
The last post, Monumental, featured a dark monument to Sir Walter Scott
A monument is a sort of epitaph in stone. And often as lifeless as the departed.
But it is the words of great writers like Scott that live on, timeless and relevant.
Summing up what we ourselves cannot articulate.
Powerful.
I wish to god that I personally had not to go through a recent hellish time in my life when those words were way too relevant – but I am glad I clung to what was dear.
Cheers Walter…
Old Walls Will Fall
Pictured is an old volcanic rock wall in Auckland’s Cornwall Park.
Been there for decades, and will probably be there for many more.
Solid!
But inevitably, left unattended, it will deteriorate and crumble, bit by bit.
Or some sudden event may breach or destroy it (Berlin Wall, anyone?).
And, sooner or later, the walls we build in our minds to protect ourselves from perceived threats have to go too.
They might keep us “safe”, but they prevent new thinking and better ways from getting in.
I’ve had a few old walls fall in recent times, and it is not the end of the world.
Just the opposite in fact…
Together In Precarious Places
  Gannet Colony, Muriwai Beach, NZ
Back to the beach and birds.
Previously:Â Return Of The Gannets
Where, and how, they gather together in this place is a marvel.
It’s not easy.
The migration route across the Tasman Sea to this very location, for some of the gannets at least, is a miracle of sorts.
But even the smallest things are difficult.
On a recent trip out to Muriwai, I observed one gannet make a dozen unsuccessful passes  trying to deposit twigs as nesting material to its partner. Landing in the small nest space (indentations in the soft rock and dirt , which they create) was prevented time and again by the swirling gusts of wind. I watched for minutes and the creature persevered, but still hadn’t completed the task by the time I left (it was way worse than any airline delays and technical issues I have suffered through!).
The bird was working so hard for its mate and family.
The entire flock of gannets pull together to survive in this precarious place of wind, sea and clifftops.
So too, vulnerable people need each other just to get by.
Immigrants in strange lands. Struggling sports teams. Addicts in recovery. The destitute and homeless.
Communities formed by necessity and nurtured by mutual reliance. Strength in numbers, for sure.
When the odds are stacked against you, there are no prizes for being a f**king lone ranger…
Under The Wharf, Above The Waves (VII)
The ‘Wharf ‘ picture series continues – this time blurred, black and blue, which is how things look and feel in the nether world.
Twixt and ‘tween land, where you exist as other, and neither (above or below, that is).
You can scope the previous ‘Wharf ‘ posts to see where this theme comes from, if you are so minded.
My meditation on this scene is a little different this time around:
What lies between fighting the truth and running from it?
Acceptance
Wiser than fighting, braver than running, and harder than both…
As I have said before – be the barnacle!
Grief And The Garden Of Compassion
“Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep yourself open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in life’s search for love and wisdom.”
– Rumi
Abundant
Part of an inscription on the side of water feature outside a shopping mall I visited today. The inscription was about the people and abundant resources that existed in that locality centuries before it became a consumer magnet.
Inside, the shopping hordes were loading up their tote bags, and we too had to pick up a few things. I’d rather have been elsewhere, truth be told, but sometimes malls are (almost) necessary evils.
Abundance is not the acquisition of more stuff however.
Abundance is about our perception of the world, that it ,and our lives are enough. That feeling/attitude only really comes when we are content with who we are and can share what we have, and of ourselves, with others.
People have shared out of their abundance with me when I have been in need ,and for that I am grateful. In order to live a full life I have to do the same really.
All That Glitters…Gets Boxed In
It’s the way of the world.
If something is shiny and precious enough, it gets assigned a value over and above its basic elements.
And like this very yellow gold jewellery in an Asian glass display cabinet, it gets boxed in.
To be admired, shown off and micro-examined by others with their own motivations, good or otherwise.
I have seen it with people I know or are well aware of – once you are on constant display there is a polished role or roles to be played.
That person might still shine but their light is often captured in the box of others.
A gold bracelet has an amplified worth, but it had a unique molecular character and purity before the artisan’s touch gave it a lustre to be lusted after, or sold to someone with enough cash.
We are all valuable in our own right, and really need just enough glimmer to throw light on the free path we are on.
When Yr Arse Is Aflame ,U Might Need Me (II)
‘Fire Brigade Station’
(for more helpful advice in incendiary moments, see: When Yr Arse is Aflame ,U Might Need Me
Taking Time To Smell The Roses
My previous post The Presence Of Passion featured a single rose.
Here are a few more.
My then six year old daughter, in pinkish garb,takes in the fragrance of a neatly matching rose flower.
It was possibly the first time she had done so.
Freshness.
Discovery.
Mindfulness.
The saying “take time to smell the roses” is almost a cliche of mindfulness rhetoric.
But how often do we not do that exact thing? We know what they look and smell like. But we take them for granted, ignore them and so deprive ourselves of sensory moments of joyful rediscovery.
There are thousands of such moments that pass us by because we are think we are too busy ,or have simply become blase.
We have to make time for joy and newness in our lives,to discover and replenish.
For time is of the essence, just as rose petals are crushed to form the essence of perfume.
Which brings a telling song lyric to mind:
” If you don’t stop to smell the roses now
 They might end up on you “
(Â Husker Du , ‘These Important Years ‘)
The Presence Of Passion
“The presence of passion within you is the greatest gift you can receive. Treat it as a miracle.”
– Wayne Dyer
Not Too Much On Your Plate?
This can be a thing in restaurants – a tasty morsel, in this case a decadent dessert – on an oversize plate. Odd. This was such an extreme example I had to take a shot.
Which got me to thinking about those times in life which are not exactly brimming over and dripping onto the carpet.
You know, when you are between jobs or relationships, or a time of loss – and there is empty, and sometimes uncomfortable, space. We crave that time and space when life is frantic and when we are at odds with the life path we want or hope for, there is more of it than we want.
What to do with unwelcome time and space?
It’s a bit like the expanse of white china above – a blank canvas so to speak. The time of emptiness may become a place of renewal and re-creation, something massive in your life. Not something to fill the gap for the sake of it, but an opportunity to change something that’s not working, or head down a new path entirely.
And if that sounds all too much, you could at least sprinkle some f**king fairy dust, like icing sugar ,all over your plate….
The Relentless vs The Sentinel
What a match up! The Pacific Ocean against Sentinel Rock in Northland, New Zealand.
Continual surf crashes upon,and tidal motion swirls around and over, the rocks.
Pummeled.
24/7.
Every day and every night.
It’s epic, and relentless.
But still the Sentinel holds its ground, and stands guard.
Life is just as relentless as the ocean waves and tides.
It is hard to be rocklike in the face of attrition, I know. It’s easy to let your guard down when it feels there is no respite.
And there are times when I feel submerged but still manage to pull through,somehow.
And at those times I am grateful to people who are my “rocks”, shining concepts I cling to, and whatever higher power there is that guards me against destruction…
ebb then flood 