Monday 12 December 2011

Trees

'If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees' (Hal Borland)

Throughout history, trees have been powerful symbols of life, growth, wisdom, nobility and longevity. Their roots reach down into the ground and their branches extend up to the sky at the same time. Steeped in many myths and legends, trees have prevailed throughout time (some oak trees reaching two hundred plus years old). These iconic plants have been recognised in many historic ideas such as the tree of knowledge of good and evil, the tree of life, the ygdrassil tree (in Norse mythology). The druids of early Britain worshipped trees, the Greeks assigned them spirits called dryads and individual trees have been revered as sacred by some cultures. They also support many ecosystems and are specific to certain climates and environments. Some of the oldest trees in the world have been found to be around five thousand years old! Celebrate the value that trees bring to our life!


Tree Consciousness

The twigs, branches - burnt by the season's frost,
Patient, grounded even in suffering;
Alone, always listening - but never forlorn.

There is no question or urgency to it's task,
Quiet understanding of cycles and patterns;
Whispers and murmurs, as the moon saunters past.

Seen through it's barrenness,
The naked eye of truth wisdom;
A blueprint of time that continues to last.

Untroubled, and still with the cold,
A custodian of enigma;
Secret keeper of old.

LB

Thursday 1 December 2011

Autumn

Autumn and spring are my two favourite seasons. I love the moderate nature of both and the wonderful richness in colours. I feel that it is a time of transition for people and nature, and whereas  autumn presents the end of a cycle, conversely; spring represents the beginning of a cyle and new life. The following poem was inspired by the giant chestnut leaves blowing around, and their beautiful, rich colours and hues, of brown, red, orange, gold and yellow.

Ghost Leaves

Into the road - skeleton bodies of leaves
are relentlessly pressed down;
Their autumnal colours, shrouds
of the season gone by.
A myriad wallpaper, brightening
the tarmac.
Little paper crunches;
Under the tyres.
Pensively, I almost wish that they
had been lovingly collected by some
small child, mother in hand.
Or, that the wind had blown them;
Hurtling them at great speed,
Like little gold mice scuttling across
the field.
But here they lay;
Until the first winter frost,
Their star shapes fading into the road -
Until their fossilisation is complete,
And all that remains are sprinkles of 
browns and gold.

LB


Tuesday 29 November 2011

Greatness


'what strikes the oyster shell, does not damage the pearl' (Rumi)

This is one of my favourite Rumi quotes. I love the message that it conveys so beautifully, the idea that no matter what we endure in life, we can use this experience to draw us inwards towards essence, faith and a certainty of knowing. Knowing that whatever happens on the outside, does not necessarily have to effect the inside.

Acquiring the skill of magnifying the best in people, requires some mastery. It all begins from an appreciation and love of yourself, not just the parts that you accept or quite like, but those parts that we choose to ignore, those parts in other people that drive us crazy (we cannot see the similarity, ironically!) Learning to approach all aspects of life from a position of observation rather than judgement, can present a challenge, but it takes practice and persistency. We are all fallible! How many judgements do we consciously make in one day? (and what of the unconscious ones?)

We have to remind ourselves that people are imperfect, and when they hurt or disappoint us - it comes from a position of fear. We are either aligned with love or aligned with fear. There is no other way. And what you focus on grows. So conserve your precious energy for the good in life and grow from this point. Let go of anything that is getting in the way of that. Have love and compassion and send it on its way, without any bad feelings. Detach with love.

I am always appreciative that I am able to see the love, potential and greatness in all those people close to me in my life. For when you open your eyes to greatness, you start to see examples of it everywhere around you. We all have greatness...we just have to give it permission to shine.

Your Greatness

I had a thought of you, it is so clear
to me -
A vision of your future, just a
snapshot.
For most secrets are for you to
nurture silently.

This greatness I hold for you,
patiently.
With an uncertain knowing of
certainty.
The eternal flicker of potential,
that you bear latently.
You are bright, simmering softly.

Sit aside me awhile.
And witness a hologram;
Pay attention,
To the miracle - that is you.
Will you meet me there?

LB

Tuesday 25 October 2011

Flow

'What you seek is seeking you.'
Rumi


It is very easy to get caught up in the distractions of life, where one loses themselves to the routine, chores and responsibilities. But staying aligned with your true desires and maintaining that personal focus takes work and commitment. One can easily forget that we are both a mind, a body and a spirit and each needs individual nourishment and attention to function as a happy whole.

Life flow

Back and forth;
Chasing the minutes,
Tripping over ourselves in a hedge to
catch up -
Catch up to where?

Losing ourselves -
To other selves;
Forgetting who we are, and
Betraying who we want to be.

Distracted by bright lights -
And noise - chaos from all
angles,
At every level.

Step away! Step away softly -
Retreat, retrace your steps;
And whisper that promise,
That only you are meant to hear...

LB

Saturday 17 September 2011

Essence

Nowhere to go but the heart...
(rumi)

I wrote the following poem for a friend who recently lost a close family member.

Essence

My heart swells with every
thought of your absence -
Interwoven, streaks of gold;
Dancing aflame, a candle light
flicker,
Every moment, a memory that carries,
That swell -
Like the waves of the ocean,
Inching, claiming more of the beach.
Their ambition insistent,
And you, and me, and all.
This unspoken connection,
of commonality.
Moving our limbs through the
current of life,
Until the last breath;
And we remember flying for the first time!

LB

Thursday 15 September 2011

Stillness

I have been focussing a lot on stillness this month, learning to centre the body and calm the mind. Just a subtle awareness on this topic is enough to create gentle changes in the way you go about your life. I find myself responding to situations, instead of reacting emotionally! This conserves massive amounts of energy, and I am conscious of how I utilise my energy stores. Having a vitality to your energy gives you a spring in your step and a desire to channel your energy in a positive, possibly creative way! Draining your resources through negativity becomes a less desirable option. I find reading a little of Rumi everyday, five mins meditation, laughing with friends and a gentle focus on the joyful things in life is a recipe for positive change.

Someone with a clear and empty heart
mirrors images of the Invisible.
He becomes intuitive and certain
of our innermost thought,
because "the faithful are a mirror for the faithful."
(Rumi)


To Be

Halt! In thy doing;
For thus you sacrifice the knowing,
Be still;
And seek intrigue.
Be hypnotised with the rain;
Let the raindrops soothe your being,
And bring you back to wakefulness.
For here you are free;
With such latitude,
The rose disperses its thorns.
In the full vulnerability of its ethereal
state,
And we are all such celestial beings-
Throw away the disguise,
And just so-

LB

Wednesday 31 August 2011

Breath

Failing;
is not falling down,
it is staying down.
(anon)

Don't let this breed hate (tarley)

I want this to stop (anon)

One solution : evolution (anon)

The quotes above were written on the boarded up windows of the Debenhams in Clapham Junction, (London) after the rioting and looting of the last few weeks. Most of the messages were of love, but some were also of anger and hate. It saddened me to watch the young people (our children) destroy and pillage their own community. But through these events, we were awakened to the desperation and hopelessness that some of these young people feel. Out of these tragic events, a sense of community was born, whereby people came together in love and support to clean up their towns.

Russell Brand wrote a poignant and candid article (The Guardian, Aug 11) exploring the reasons why these young people would destroy their own community and his words came from a time in his own personal experience, as a teenager when he too felt a sense of hopelessness and frustration. He finished the article with the following message: 'If we want to live in a society where people feel included, we must include them, where they feel represented, we must represent them and where they feel love and compassion for their communities then we, the members of that community, must find love and compassion for them.'

And that brings me to my next point: Neal Donald Walsh talks about 'touch'. He says that we touch around 120,000 people in our lifetime, through every single person we encounter, from our family, friends, colleagues to the local tramp we give money to, or the shop assistant we see daily at our local shop. This gives us an opportunity day by day, moment to moment whether those encounters are inspiring, uplifting and positive or not?!

People want to be seen. By looking directly into their eyes you are saying 'I see the wonder and magnificence that is you.' Eyes are the windows to the soul.

Smile at people. It says I agree with what I am seeing.

Touch. Make a connection - recreate the connection between you and all of life.

This makes a difference to the people you encounter every day and creates a flowering, permission for people to be themselves. Being is doing!


Breath

Amongst a time of overwhelming,
despair and outrage -
A flowering must come;
Fragility and beauty revealing,
the wisdom within.
A whisper of its promise,
The gentlest of breath;
And breath unites us in our
humanity,
We are -
but one breath.

LB






The following poem was inspired by riots

Saturday 16 July 2011

Depth

 'Nothing is as beautiful as your heart's surrender and the radiant offering of your devotion. Your love opens my heart endlessly, even when I would otherwise forget love's depth.'
(David Deida)

Love means different things to different people. But usually it is an emotion given in part, alongside a set of conditions or expectations. True love is meant to be unconditional, but it takes a very brave and courageous person to put themselves out there, without barriers or guards. But unless you are prepared to fully give yourself, to the expansiveness of love; you will never achieve it's true depth and will always feel a sense of frustration and unfulfilment. Loving unconditionally is not a normal state, but a natural one. We become so accustomed to living within the perimeters of fear, that we forget the incredible sweetness and expansion one feels when you step away and freefall into the abyss of bliss.

Describe it to me!

Describe it to me!
It is the butterflies in my tummy, when you walk in the door.
It is the assurances you give, when you're not even sure.
It is the touch I reach out for, without being aware.
It is the nearness I feel, when you're not even there.
It is the stab in my heart, when I contemplate its loss.
It is the compliments that sing out, that are never forgot.
It is the way that you say aloud my name, with such care.
It is the greatness you see, that I'm longing to bear.
It is the gravity that exerts, it's pull on our cells.
It is the yearning of the soul, to be completely fulfilled.
It is the mass of the water, flowing across seabeds and rocks.
It is the playful ripples on the surface, circles from shocks.
It is the vibrational hum, the connectivity of all.
It is the warmth and the fuzziness, that makes me freefall.
It is the seasons, the tides and the cycles of the moon.
It is both pain and immense joy, that flips over so soon.
It is a knowingness, a faith, an energy that lives on.
An eternity of feeling, even when we're both gone.

LB

Thursday 7 July 2011

Time

 'Time is a sequence of happenings'

Without time, there would be no order to our life and everything in our life would happen simultaneously in a blink of an eye. And that would make our time on Earth very brief indeed! So time is a concept of the mind which spaces out the events or milestones in our life, so that each journey of growth can evolve naturally and progressively. When every personal milestone is reached 'at the right time' we have a sense of unity, a fitting in with the status quo. But if we are late to finish education, get married or have a baby (supposing that this be your personal choice to do these things!) then we can feel that we are failing in some way.

I have never been so aware of time as I am now! When a majority of friends and acquaintances are meeting their partners and getting married and those people are starting families, one is aware of certain milestones in life and those social pressures that come along with it. As a wife and mother, it can become a lot harder to realise and focus on achieving personal goals and dreams. There are other people to think about and usually they come first. But our goals, hopes and dreams are always there waiting to be realised, regardless of our responsibilities.


It's a Serious Word

When all is said and done -
How will you think of me?
Each and every moment,
A sequence of my life in time.

How will it be judged?
I have done what I have done.
Why, my memories;
They are like puddles in the rain,
Sometimes as clear as a photograph,
And other times hazy! Like peering through wet glass.
I fill in the gaps.

Ask me about my emotions.
I remember those intricately,
But I suppose you have no need for those!
They are like clouds passing through my sunshine.
We have to be reminded - that they always pass.

Am I just a cloud myself?
Here today, gone tomorrow.
Everything an illusion;
Along with my puddle of memories,
A mirror, in the looking glass.
Time -
It's a serious word
With weighty expectation.
Time...

LB

Tuesday 28 June 2011

Faith

Much has changed in me since my last post. I have reflected on a lot of things in my life and taken steps to change those things that are no longer helpful to me. As a result of this; relationships have been strengthened, other relationships have fallen to the side and naturally gone their own way. My work has expanded into new areas, my health, fitness and motivation has improved and most importantly I have gained perspective, set some goals and become inspired to work on my positivity. Whilst doing all this I have travelled to two countries and been inspired to be better in lots of different ways. The following poem is about faith and being able to let go of those things that no longer serve your purpose. Remember that when something leaves your life, something else always moves into that space!

Let it Be

Let it fall-
As sand seeps quietly through
the fingertips,
I cling fast;
Yet quicker still it grabs it's freedom.

Let the sun set-
For I cannot desire it's light,
It will shine yet another day;
But for now it rests above a
quilt of cloud.
It's secret kingdom.

Let the moon hide-
It's silver only tarnishes my
hopes,
Better to not bear witness to
it's metallic hue;
For melancholy thrives in greys
of shade.

Let me be-
For stillness speaks,
And this voice will carry me past
these troubled waters;
Moulded from faith,
All is well,
And this is - but a dream.

LB

Thursday 26 May 2011

Driftwood

There comes a time in life where everything starts to feel very comfortable; work is good, relationships are built, one has become adept at managing every aspect of their life. And we are happy with the constancy of it all. But! There is always a 'but'. This 'but' comes before a nagging sense of frustration or dissatisfaction that one is not excelling in life, and has become accustomed to compromise. If our life suddenly brings forth some challenge, we are distracted by this for a while and forget these nagging feelings of frustration until everything is once again in a place of peace. Then those feelings once more appear. The answer to this, would of course be to stay in the present moment - always! remain non-judgemental towards yourself and others, stay true to your self, appreciate everything, find sources of inspiration, stay connected to your true desires and action your intentions! Easier said than done, but we have a lifetime to practice!



Driftwood

Like a piece of driftwood,
I am afloat.
Still - upon the river,
The canvas changes before my eyes.
Hypnotised - by the moving picture,
Seasons pass by; from shade to shade
not stormy eye, nor summer's glade
Can make me reign,
My life drawn in
Until I am nudged - to wake again.

LB

,

Wednesday 11 May 2011

Change

 'Without fear, then courage doesn't exist.'

Change can be difficult, because the unknown is scary! And some of us would rather stay in a negative and draining life situation (a job we don't like, an injury that prevents us living life fully etc) rather than allow and action new opportunities that present themselves, to bring colour and regeneration into our lives. And those new opportunities are always there waiting in the wings, if only we would open our eyes to them! But change represents a personal growth in ourselves; which in turn has an indirect effect on those around us. We can become masters or experts in resisting change, creating imaginative and intricate justifications within ourselves, that can become as powerful as to make us ill or fatigued. And sometimes the people closest to us can unconsciously challenge any change within you, because indirectly they are nudged into their own reflections. Be aware of the resistance within yourself and lovingly let this state of awareness lead to a softening, which will in turn allow things to flow.


The Shedding of The Skin

The shedding of the skin;
Begins when one is ready -
It requires a humble space
Where time is made available -
For it's desiderata.

Shifting and squirming,
Can be done with dignity -
In the quiet of the cocoon, but;
Do not despair - for I am but all
and the same,
With the shedding of a layer,
No longer required.

Should people proffer help,
One can get stuck between the
Old and the new;
Unable to take courage and drive
It's momentum.
We are half in and half out;
The added burden of -
transformation unfulfilled.

LB


















Wednesday 4 May 2011

Fear

'to fear or not to fear'

'Kent Davidsson' explores the concept of fear in some detail in his articles published on the net. He considers how society encourages us to heavily judge, ignore or deny our fears and this in turn creates more fear. Where there is fear, there is no love! This is an interesting concept, for if light and darkness cannot co-exist in the same energy space of an individual's emotional body, neither can fear and love. The dark, dense energy space of fear blocks our loving potential and the only way through it, is to get into that space fully (as uncomfortable as that might be!) and embrace our fear. Like a loving parent who loves unconditionally and non-judgementally; by doing this we are coming from a place of self acceptance.

'that is the paradox of fear. It negates love, yet will persist until it is loved'

So the path to handling fear is to come from a state of unconditional, loving self acceptance. This might sound easy, but we have been conditioned throughout our life to dump huge amounts of negative feelings onto ourselves when feeling fearful (guilt, blame, shame etc) and it takes careful awareness and persistency at mastering this skill. But it is worth doing, because when fear is handled in this way, then the fear is healed and released and not contained in the body.

We must love our fear unconditionally as we do the emotion of love, and then we are not controlled by the state of fear. We have the choice to face and overcome our painful emotions and not avoid them. This is the path of growth, and growth is necessary throughout our journey in life. The greater the resistance, the more intense the desire that it creates.

Beautifully put:

'it is nearly impossible to imagine our fully healed states - just as a caterpillar can't imagine itself as a butterfly'

Below is a poem by Hart Crane:

Fear

The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell, -
But on the window licks the night.

Pile on the logs...Give me your hands,
Friends! No, - it is not fright...
But hold me...somewhere I heard demands...
And on the window licks the night.

Hart Crane


Don't Open the Door!

Don't open the door,
You know who it is.
Slide it open an inch,
And it will slime it's way in.
Thick, oppressive black smoke,
Shrouded in doubts.
It'll push you to the corner,
And never let you out!


Don't open the door,
For you won't like your guest.
He'll eat all your food,
And sleep in your bed.
He'll fatten on doubts,
And breathe through your fears.
He'll grow into a monster,
That'll live inside you for years!

LB
















Tuesday 26 April 2011

Mouse

I arrived home from work the other week to find a dead field mouse on my living room floor. It was a perfectly, beautiful sandy coloured mouse with dark grey eyes. I immediately felt a sense of overwhelming sadness and reverence, that it had died at the cruel, but natural nature of my pet cats. My cats were very proud of their success and positively strutted around the appartment for a week afterwards! (they are indoor cats and only had the opportunity to kill flies and the occasional spider previously.) Anyway, I felt disgusted that they had obviously tortured the poor creature to death and have included 'Thomas' poem below, which captures the essence of how a little girl felt upon the death of a bird.

Snow

In the gloom of whiteness,
And the great silence of snow,
A child was sighing
And bitterly saying: 'Oh,
They have killed a white bird up there on her nest,
The down is fluttering from her breast!'
And still it fell through that dusky brightness
On the child crying for the bird of the snow.

Edward Thomas


A Mouse

Nature is such, whether cruel or
just.
You have no need for me, but my
soul -

A plaything I am to you:
But your greed would have me,
a while longer.

The lion in me is the mouse, and
the mouse - the lion;
Fearful and brave, in differing
amounts.

Reverence! you have not, for
these things.
Your very nature is satiated, by
my suffering - justly so.

Longing, longing - to drift
I am not doing you well.
Sorry - but not much longer now;
There; my last breath...

LB



















Sunday 24 April 2011

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis is a miraculous process, whereby an insect or animal transforms from one form to another i.e. caterpillar to a butterfly. Derived from the Greek language, it's definition directly translates to, 'change form'. In terms of human life, it can mean the process by which one changes their attitudes, beliefs or behaviour. One cannot always recognise a change when directly in the process of transformation, but one becomes aware, succinctly once that change has been made.



Metamorphosis

As the cloak withers;
Shake off its dust.
See the gem underneath the
mask -
Revel! in its transformative
nature,
The miracle of change;
Juxtaposed with the illusion of
stability.
A chrysalis becomes a butterfly;
It may only spread it's beautiful
wings for a short while,
But it embraces the wonder of
life.
How can it not?
Be the changing river of life
that you are,
And love that we never step into
its waters twice.


LB





Thursday 21 April 2011

Carpe Diem

'The paradoxical situation with a vast number of people today is that they are half asleep when awake, and half awake when asleep...'

Erich Fromm 

In 'The Art of Loving' (Erich Fromm) explores how our relationships with our parents have a direct impact on our relationships with our partner, friends and acquaintances. Few people get through their childhoods unscathed and many of us carry these wounds into future connections. He describes how loving itself is an art, a skill that requires some mastery through lifelong discipline, concentration, patience, supreme importance, objectivity and faith. In other words, should we apply all these conditions to every part of our life, our relationships would grow, mature and elevate to a place of intimacy and constance. He talks about the how the present moment liberates us from our internal considering of being in the past or future and it is this state that is precisely the condition, of the ability to love.

But what does it mean to be in the present moment? It can be such a vague concept! Fromm describes this present moment as being in a constant state of awareness, alertness and activity. Be active in thought, feeling and state and operate always from a place of truth, authenticity and integrity. And ironically one will be fully awake when awake and fully rested when asleep!


Carpe Diem


Own the moment -
In its entirety

Seize it's essence,
Or you will fade
As a rose withers with each passing
day,
From ground to vase;
It blossoms and gracefully -
Accepts, its inevitable demise

Love - and appreciate all
That is your creation,
Whether done blindly or
consciously!

Be the lantern in the storm,
Step into the eye;
With courage -
For there you will see clearly,
And clarity, is life's true guide.


LB














Tuesday 19 April 2011

Binds

'How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought'

Sylvia Plath

I only developed an interest in Sylvia Plath's poetry quite recently, I preferred Ted Hughes' style of writing. But after revisiting some of her work, I found myself appreciating her genius in a completely different light. The imagery that resonates from her words is powerful, evocative and thoroughly unique. She has the ability to exude an intense rawness in her images, paralleled by a sensitive vulnerability that leaves you with a mishmash of emotions. I'm sure countless numbers of people could break down her words to a thousand different meanings and still not reach their true depth. I include part of 'Ariel' below (written about her horse), because it inspired a poem from myself that was stylistically different.

Ariel

Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.

God's lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! - The
furrow

Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,

Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks-

Sylvia Plath

This poem was inspired by the thoughts of love and how the state of love can hold us prisoner.


Our Binds

Bengal markings,
Charge the day!
Consistent and fresh;
The marbled waves create - an inward smile,
Impressing two hearts, with their constance.
Deep seas of attachment,
And hidden depths -


Not unlike - my cupid's bow,
How far, the arrow tip can slew.
Silver tipped adorns the soul
I mind not its sting -
For depth and sting, are two of
the same
Let it bear itself deeper,
My love knows not its own bounds.
It is limitless!
Profound in ordinariness;
Only a trained eye - of such keeness,
Could discern its vows.


But there it is!
I am both the prison and its
captive.
Make of it - what you will;
For slumber's love is a seeker's
dream.
The connectedness of each cell,
every atom.
And I am slave thus:
For an eternity -
Feel not these chains.

LB













Thursday 14 April 2011

Meditation

I never used to understand what meditation was all about. Whilst sitting there in an upright posture, I would be thinking how uncomfortable I was, how cold the wall was, how long I had been sitting there (usually not long at all!) and I would get a desperate urge to scratch or move an ankle or a leg. And that's before you even consider how noisy and irritating the thoughts are. Fast forward three or four years and now I am finally beginning to scratch the surface! I'm not a consistent practitioner of meditation and truthfully only do about ten minutes every couple of days, but what I experience now is completely different to when I first began. Thoughts or mind chatter is definitely quieter and I get a pleasant feeling of connectedness. It is inspiring to note the changes after some period of time and I would recommend meditation for de-stressing, calming the mind or balancing the body after a hectic day. But I appreciate that for a beginner, they have to overcome their own personal resistance and limitation, to a discipline that slowly helps the mind, body and spirit to blossom, align and re-connect.


In Meditation

The chatter of the mind slows down;
Body is heavy, but so still,
It seems to know it is required
to give space.
The gap between the noises and the
stillness widens;
One becomes aware of a humming,
Behind the eyes is a good place
to rest.
Thoughts are quieter, whispers;
And the breath,
Invisible.

LB






Sunday 10 April 2011

Strength


Having experienced people with mental illness growing up, I now have the maturity and understanding to appreciate how difficult and frightening normal, every day life can be for those with an unstable grasp of sanity. It is very easy to victimise and feel pity for those people inflicted with mental illness, but this does not highlight the incredible courage and strength they exhibit every day of their lives. We feel a sense of connection and unity based on close people understanding us, so for mentally ill people, they feel an overwhelming grip of lonliness, seperation and despair. They are living in their own personal hell and their mind and imagination hold them in a place of illusion that is incredibly real for them. I was once told that it was like teetering around a great, dark abyss. This abyss pulls and threatens to swallow you up, but balancing around the edges takes great strength and stamina and sometimes they slip and fall in. Thus ensues a long, painful process back to the edges.


Lost and forgotten,
A speck on the horizon of life.

Digging at the dirt,
Foraging through the darkness.

Peering nose up against the window pane of others lives,
But limited by the inability to grasp the light in the dark.

Lily Basnet



Sunday 3 April 2011

Origami

My nana's biggest fear was being unable to look after herself and succumbing to pressure to leave her sheltered accommodation (where she was fairly independent) to move into a retirement home. She had all her mental faculties right up to the end and spent her days reading and educating herself. I witnessed her frustration and vulnerablity as her physical health started to deteriorate, up to the point where her small appartment became her whole world. Despite the indignity and pain of losing her mobility, she rarely complained and was graceful right to the end. I remember her as an intelligent, strong, generous and charitable woman who loved to help others worse off than herself and who had a thirst for knowledge and life. When asking her one day - what was the most difficult thing about ageing, she replied that the most difficult thing about growing old, was witnessing your closest family and friends passing on, one by one. Death becomes a normal part of life and she said it was important to be able to let go of all those attachments with a sense of love and maturity.

When pondering of my own older age, I wonder whether I will spend my time with my grandchildren and friends sipping tea and telling stories or whether I would travel the world commemorating my life into the words that I write and the pictures that I take. Maybe I would pass away on a mountain in some far flung place. Who knows what the future may hold? But the internet and all that is beholden gives older people today the option of communication and connection, and that is an invaluable tool to a quality of life beyond any physical limitation.


Origami

She sits in the corner
With gnarled, papery fingers,
Folding clean, crisp sheets into shapes.
On closer inspection, she works with consistent
fervour at her task.
Her back is crooked and folds forward,
As if she hasn't seen the stars in years;
But her hands are elegant and have the grace of
somebody half her age.
Perfect, blanched animals,
Winking in the sunlight.
Oblivious to their fate.
As the sun works its way round,
Her eyes half lidded from fatigue,
Hang heavy in their resting place.
She snoozes and time ticks on,
without purpose.
The paper creations swept uncaringly into the bin;
Another day passes.

Lily Basnet

Saturday 26 March 2011

Earth

 'apeiron' 
the indefinite - from which all things are created and to which all things return

Anaximander 610-546 BC

The ancient Greek philosophers gave birth to ideas that have evolved, but still form the basis of most philosophical thoughts of modern day. Heraclitus (535-475 BC) declared that beneath the surface, the world could be understood in terms of a continuous struggle between pairs of opposites day/night, life/death, hot/cold etc, and that change, impermanence and instability was a constant in life. And interestingly, Parmenides (515-450 BC) explored the concept between illusion and reality. If we can think or talk about something, then it must exist!

The story of the Earth is one of volatility and turbulence. The Earth is 4.5 billion years old and scientists predict that the Earth will live for at least another 4.5 billion years.  Dinosaurs reigned for an astounding 158 million years and we have been around for about 4 million years. A modest amount of time when you consider the age of the Earth and reign of the dinosaurs. And as we take a look around at the world, we are looking at the transformation and metamorphisis of an ancient planet.


Gaia

The Earth is changing,
Can you feel it?
As though shaking off a dust,
covered cloak,
Still; for long enough.
The transformation works its way
from the core, to the surface,
to the soles of our feet.
We are, but the hosts to a
splendid design.
But with most grand designs,
there are subtle changes.
We are aghast at its repercussions.
But deep down we have a
knowing;
A conscious flowering,
Our contribution,
For the greater good.

Lily Basnet








Tuesday 22 March 2011

Silver

I wrote the following poem based on the idea, that most asian people are blessed with youthful looks, vitality and energy well into old age. Maybe their diet and lifestyle have something to do with this phenomenon, but I have experienced this first hand with a friend I met in Hong Kong twelve years ago. After seeing her this year, I am stunned to find that she still doesn't look a day over eighteen years old! Ironically, she has trouble travelling through customs, as officials try to comprehend her biological age juxtaposed against her chronological age. I also work with a beautiful Japanese girl, who is ageless. As time goes by, she stays exactly the same (although she probably wouldn't agree with this statement!) apart from a perfect, silver streak to her hair.


Silver Streak

Time, harsh to most
Collects lines and wrinkles in the skin.
It plumps the mind and the body;
The soul no choice but to accept,
A primordial arrangment.
Ego wanes and appeases,
An unsubstantiated opponent, to its counterpart.
And to most, they suffer
the indignation of demise.
But for you,
Extraordinarily, a genuine
adversary of time.
Nothing changed-
But a single, silver streak to
your obsidian hair.


Lily Basnet



Friday 18 March 2011

Seed

I am not an avid gardener, but having rented an appartment with a small balcony, I now have plants that I have to look after. Unfortunately the hot summer of last year killed off half the shrubs, which makes my gardening duty a little easier! But one thing that I have noticed in the last couple of weeks, is a series of singular, tiny green shoots accompanied by a purple flower, that have started their new life in the cracks of the cement! Although I have seen this before, I haven't really thought about how extraordinary it is.

The Lesson (an anti-pastoral)

The small schoolgirl
   On her way down
      grey Portugal Lane
        late for class
Who brushes a careless
    hand against
        the one green
            nettle that had to sprout
        from yards of concrete
can't believe
    there's no dock leaf
                   to cancel
                       it out.

Tracy Ryan


Seed

Some seeds find their way into
the most inhabitable cracks of
building and cement.
And thrive in adversity;
Their thirst for life greater than
any opposition.

Other seeds fall into an oasis of
paradise.
Nutrition, sunlight, space and
companionship in abundance;
They soak up prosperity and
bask in the glow.

But which seed has the greater
life?


Lily basnet


 





Saturday 12 March 2011

Eyes

It has been said that 'eyes are the window to the soul', so it is hardly surprising that people refer to eyes as having a spiritual nature. It is interesting to note that in Egypt and Western Occult traditions, the left eye represents a lunar trait (and a symbol of northern direction) and the right eye represents a solar trait (and a symbol of southern direction). As I stare deeply into my cats eyes, I imagine (should Eastern theory be true) that they are potentially the same energy as me but in a different, physical form. And maybe one day after several reincarnations, they will return as another animal or possibly even as a human being. 'Anna Akhmatova' touches on the idea of energy transformation in the following poem:

But Listen, I am Warning You

But listen, I am warning you
I'm living for the very last time.
Not as a swallow, nor a maple,
Not as a reed, nor as a star,
Not as spring water.
Nor as the toll of bells...
Will I return to trouble men
Nor will I vex their dreams again
With my insatiable moans.

Anna Akhmatova


Cats Eyes

I stare into eyes;
Deep, green seas.
Their depths are lost on me,
Incapable of infinity,
Or comprehension of such
expanse.
There is a moment;
One of knowing and childlike
curiosity.
That we are one of the same,
A star born from the same sky.
To look upon Earth,
For an eternity.


Lily Basnet

Tuesday 8 March 2011

Space

I did a short workshop on 'fascia' at the weekend and was inspired to write a poem about the space that our cells take up in the body. Fascia is connective tissue and forms the so-called wetsuit around our bones. When it is tight, blocked or dysfunctional it creates pain, stiffness and injury in the body. It is a self healing or self righting mechanism and amazingly; 'muscles are slaves to the fascial architecture'. Fascia connects and divides, binds and bounces. It has a contractability independent of muscle, it is a sensing system, propioceptively of 'one's own oneness' and has a unique shape to each individual. In essence it is the membrane through which grace is channelled and 'holds space.' More space than we can possibly imagine!


This Space

Here I am
I fill this space
Occupy it fully
A human being
Of possibility and potential
My cells and atoms vibrating
Held together
By scientific laws
Moving through the air of the planet
Alone and together
Towards the great unknown


Lily Basnet

Sunday 6 March 2011

Rose

Rosa d'abril, morena de la serra...

Roses are an ancient flower associated with religion, politics, war, secrecy and love. They are antiquated symbols of love and beauty. The name itself means 'red' or 'pink' in a variety of languages and this flower was sacred to a number of goddesses (including Isis and Aphrodite). It is also used as a symbol of the Virgin Mary.

To me, it is simply my favourite flower and Renoir's 'Roses in a Vase' is one of my favoured paintings of it, because he truly captures the essence and richness of this esteemed flower.

There are hundreds of rose poems to choose from, but Emily Dickinson stands apart from most.

Nobody Knows this Little Rose

Nobody knows this little Rose-
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee
Only a Bee will miss it-
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey-
On its breast to lie
Only a Bird will wonder-
Only a Breeze will sigh-
Ah little Rose- how easy
For such as thee to die!


Emily Dickinson



Rose

The language of the Rose,
Is subtle to the ear.
Lean close; and listen to its
seductive whispers.
You are invited to another realm,
Breathe in the scent of love,
Drink in its splendor.
Each Rose, unique in fragrance;
Explore its nuances.
Ancient and trustworthy,
Its velvet layers, promise hidden depths.
Do you want to learn its secrets?
There is much to know;
The magnificence of the Rose,
Is love abound.
Be swept away by its
resplendency.


Lily Basnet




 

Saturday 5 March 2011

Darkness

Embracing the darkness within us, can lead to a deepened understanding of our being. In some Eastern cultures they meditate in the dark, so that they are at one in embracing their true fears. Every baby starts out for nine months in the womb in complete darkness. Similarly a seed, nurtures life from a bed of dark soil. We have grown to fear darkness, but if we become comfortable and at ease with it, our fears can dissolve.


Darkness

Darkness balances the light,
It contains a well of wisdom and intensity;
The womb of everything there is.
So why fear the absence of light?
When there is always a connection to the divine,
A star or the moon reminds us of its presence.
Look to the light, and walk knowingly through the dark,
Allowing its envelopment to lighten our step,
And carry us home.


Lily Basnet

Wednesday 23 February 2011

Pigeons

Most people in London have an intolerance towards pigeons. They cover a lot of our historical architecture with excrement and huddle together in groups on the streets. It probably doesn't help their image, that most urban pigeons are dirty and threadbare, missing toes and feet with the occasional bit of plastic bag tied round their foot (must be the equivalent of a ball and chain to them!) But I am one of the few people that don't actually mind them. I appreciate the fact that they were an invaluable tool of communication during the 1st and 2nd World Wars. Messenger pigeons were used regularly to carry urgent messages to allies, across dangerous enemy territory and a majority of them didn't survive the mission. The most famous and heroic messenger pigeons of that time were 'GI Joe' and 'Cher Ami'.

On one occasion, I was walking around Hyde Park and came across a strange, bearded guy wearing a turbon. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched in a meditative pose and he was holding two large muffins in both hands. Pigeons had settled all over his turbon, hands and arms. It was an odd thing to see, but what struck me in that moment, was the deepfound calm and respect this guy had for the birds. And in return the birds were acting in a very gentle and trusting manner with him.

On another occasion I was eating alfresco at a restaurant on a warm, Summer's day and pigeons had gathered round my table. People were throwing the odd bit of bread down to them and they were tussling with the bread, until it had landed in the road. A car came speeding down the road and hit one of the pigeons so hard mid-flight, that it's wing got ripped off. By some fete of miracle, the bird had got into the tree, but it's whole wing was left in the middle of the road, amongst a flurry of feathers. I felt so terrible that this poor bird was stuck up a tree to die slowly and painfully.



A Pigeon's Tale

The sun holds no warmth for me
And the coldness of my peers,
Penetrates my feathers more deeply
than the damp wind ever can.
People's feet kick me away,
A mark on their landscape.
And I wonder as I wander,
Further away from the comfort
of a known hardship,
Whether my load will lighten,
as I trace the embankment with my sorrow.
In the distance, a light;
Brighter than anything I have ever seen.
Majestic, wings of angels
Mesmerises and captures my attention.
I am held;
Pulled, trance-like towards a flock of swans.
Ceremonious and dignified in presence,
They glide as one, creating
graceful ripples in their wake.
Ignorant of my advances,
They refuse my request.
I travel to the lip of the bridge,
heavy in heart, and allow myself
to face the mercy of the wind.
To the final death.
Crashing through wind and water,
I fall into a flurry of blanched feathers.
My eyes blink open;
Cradled amidst a sea of white,
I am home amongst the majestic flight!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsiUhc3xMS4

Lily Basnet

Monday 21 February 2011

Snowdrops

I like to think 
          That long ago
There fell to Earth
          Some flakes of snow


Which loved this cold,
           Grey world of ours
So much, they stayed
            As snowdrop flowers

(anon)

A friend and I went to the Physic Garden, London to do the snowdrop trail (I was secretly going for the home made cakes!), and I've been obsessing over snowdrops ever since. Now this is quite unusual for me as I'm not overly interested in flowers, but the shapes and types of the flower heads of the snowdrops were captivating. They are the first spring flowers to bloom and are a sign of hope, purity and endurance. After writing a couple of poems on the subject, I was astonished to find a plethora of poems by many different poets on snowdrops. My favourites were by Ted Hughes, Louise Gluck and William Wordsworth. I include part of Wordsworth's poem below...

To a Snowdrop

Lone flower, hemmed in with
snows and white as they
But hardier far, once more I see
thee bend
Thy forehead, as if fearful to
offend,
Like an unbidden guest. Though
day by day,
Storms, sallying from the
mountain-tops, waylay
The rising sun, and on the plains
descend;
Yet art thou welcome, welcome
as a friend
Whose zeal outruns his promise!


Snowdrops

Snowdrops;
A welcome guest after the
Winter's tenure.
White upon white.
Snowfall endeavouring, but failing
in their pursuit to mask the glory.
Solitary, petal heads facing
down, with an unassuming air,
Such curiosity with the ground.
Are they fearful of looking
directly upon the Spring sun?
Too bright for their blanched heads.
They stretch their graceful
necks with a bashful timidity;
That belies their inner strength
and fortitude.
A presentiment of hope and
endurance for all.


Snowdrops

Snowdrops bow their heads.
Solemn, wintry promises from
their green and white beds.
They stoop and curve their necks,
Listening for the hopes of Spring,
In dreams and whispers whilst
they slept.

Chandeliers and bells drooping
far down.
Solitary, white petal cups
nodding close to the ground.
Their shapes are playful,
In bloom early and bright.
Courageous, but humble
Despite being so slight.

In earnest they stretch, taste
the air and they cry,
Their freshness and contrast
captures the eye.
A symbol of times anew, that
have finally come.
A chance to rewrite stories that
have already begun.

At last Spring is here,
Yet no sign of the sun.
The Winter lost patience,
His reign now far gone.
So snowdrops I salute you,
And am blessed by your sight!
My soul is now hopeful,
Takes a breath, leaves a sigh.

Lily Basnet

Saturday 19 February 2011

Holes

Most people have dark spaces, deep inside them that they need to fill with distractions and addictive habits, drinking, smoking, shopping, eating (to name a few). But what would our lives be like without these coping mechanisms and how courageous would we be to seek our deepest, darkest truths?

Faut De Mieux

Travel, trouble, music, art,
A kiss, a frock, a rhyme,-
I never said they feed my heart,
But still they pass my time.

(Dorothy Parker)


Holes

I have big, gaping holes inside me.
Can anyone see them?
Holes that make me feel empty,
hollow and fearful.
I fill them quickly and they soon reappear,
before I have chance to enjoy
the fleeting, feeling of completeness.
They start in my stomache and
migrate to my heart.
Pushing through any barrier they encounter.
Covering the emptiness is a
sisyphean task.
A vigilent duty to my self.
A duty I perform, for fear of
losing myself altogether.


Lily Basnet

Wednesday 16 February 2011

Moments

After a rather long and tedious day, one moment lifted the whole day for me. Listening to 'Adele's' new song 'Someone Like You' from her current album was uplifting, emotional and stunning! I was swept away by her poignant lyrics. Her talent and beauty go hand in hand. Sometimes it is those surprising moments in your day where you are reminded of the love and creativity around you, that serve to make your day extraordinary.

The human shape is a ghost,
Made of distraction and pain,
Sometimes pure light, sometimes cruel.
Trying wildly to open,
This image tightly held within itself.

Rumi (translation)


Life's Moments

When all is said and done,
The moments of the kaleidoscopic
picture that make up life's mosaic,
Will be enough for me?
I am content with its purpose.
And can only hope,
That each moment was enough,
For my soul to be loved and embraced completely.
Feeling love for oneself is tantamount to that,
And when each moment is an expression of such love,
Then we are truly home,
Whether we are in the picture or not.


Lily Basnet

Tuesday 8 February 2011

Light

During a friend's wedding last year, the following quote by 'Marianne Williamson' (A Return to Love) was read out in the church. It was beautiful, inspiring and refreshing and resonated with me a long time after the ceremony.

'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'


The Light That We Are


Our light shines forth,
As a candle's flame within the sun.
So beautiful, pure and earnest,
But unable to experience itself
Surrounded by other, such brightness.
We seperated ourself from the sum;
And became the part.
Consequently, we forgot who we were,
And everyday is an opportunity
To remember, experience and know our self.
That beautiful, bright light from afar.
Contributing to the greatest love of all.
The love that we are all,
born into and out of.


Lily Basnet

Sunday 30 January 2011

Loneliness

I don't like the feeling of loneliness, simply because it feels like a state of disconnection from myself and my environment. Whether you are sat alone in a coffee shop reading a book, or trailing through crowds of people at a shopping mall, it can catch you unawares. And it's that feeling of surprise that seems to take a hold.


Loneliness

Walking alongside my loneliness
The weeping willow nods in my direction
Its wintry tendrils, wave to a rythm of its own
Observing quietly and gently
The couple embrace sweetly,
unnoticed by the bridge
Their discreet veil of intimacy uncovered
A swan preens himself thoroughly
With an air of vanity
His feathers contrast brightly
Against the greyness of the sky
My body moves mechanically
Brushing, pushing and sweeping
Away at my mood
Trees rustle, water laps, birds caw...
By the time I have walked the full length of the serpentine
My colours are brighter
But my quiet companion is still there
In my wake


Lily Basnet

Tuesday 25 January 2011

Pleasure

The National Trust created a little book called 'Simple Pleasures,' filled with many different author's personal accounts of what they considered to be life's small pleasures. A vast array of things were mentioned such as experiencing the stretch of sands running from Ramsgate to Margate, lying in an indulgent hot bath (with a side of whisky and water!), being stuck on the train in the middle of nowhere, grooming the dog and many others. It was fascinating to read people's intimate accounts of what inspires them to take a few moments from everyday life and really soak it up. A soul-fulfilling vista. 'James Le Fanu' coined a beautiful phrase in his account 'the better to appreciate the exraordinary concealed behind the ordinary.'

Here are my personal top three simple pleasures:

1. One of the most captivating things I have ever seen in London is the starling roost over Battersea Bridge. Large groups of these birds circle in clever formations over and under the bridge. It is fascinating! It is like witnessing a choreographed ballet. I'm not sure why they do it and I used to think that they were practising migratory formations.

2. I love running in the rain, not just a light drizzle, but rain that soaks you to the skin, leaving puddles in your trainers and water collecting in your eyebrows. It is so invigorating. Very few things make you feel as alive. I remember running in the mountains of Hong Kong, along Bowen Road while a monsoon rain pounded down, with persistence.

3. I really enjoy spending quality time with my loved ones, even if it is just a cup of tea and a chat. There is something very special about being in the company of friends and family that accept you completely, flaws and all!


A Simple State

Lost to my moods
A maze, inside its distractions
How far I stumble, yearning for
its oddities to make some sense
Save for the sun on my face
And the birdsong not far off
I am struggling to comprehend
a lifetime of this state
If only I could fall
Put my arms out wide and lean
my back into the wind
Trust in its strength
Feel invigorated and peaceful all at once
What a perfect state that would be
Instead, of this frozen armour
I smile, testing out this new ideal
The sun on my face and the
birdsong not far off...

Lily Basnet

Thursday 20 January 2011

Heart

The heart wants what the heart wants...

We do not choose love, love chooses us. And when we fall for that special person and it is recipricated, there is no better feeling in the world. That warm, fuzzy feeling makes us feel connected, a part of something greater than ourselves, a part of our own love story. It is fragile, solid and ever-changing all at once.

One of my favourite love poems is by Ee Cummings (made famous by Cameron Diaz's movie 'In her Shoes'!) I include a small part of the poem below:

I Carry Your Heart with Me (I Carry it in my Heart)

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows 
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

I wrote the following for that special person in my life:


I Know You

I know you
The twinkle in your eye
Your eye without the twinkle
The words you say
The wisdom underneath
Your liking for logic
Expressions and sayings that
evolve through me
I know your hands
How special they are
Strong and rough
Hands that can be clumsy but
also incredibly gentle
I know your values and desires
Your need for freedom and then for closeness
Your struggles and your scars
Your appreciation for nature
And understanding of the balance of life
I know your hugs and kisses
How lucky I am
Your kiss tells a story good or bad
But mostly I know your heart
Its rhythm tuned to mine
Beats and pumps as one
May I always know your heart...


Lily Basnet

Saturday 15 January 2011

Tear

I have recently been inspired by the traditional 'haiku'- (a small Japanese poem consisting of three lines and usually, seventeen syllables.) The beauty lies in its ability to capture an intensely human moment, mood or insight with a certain clarity and poignancy that leaves one with a lasting impression. In Japan, Basho is one of the best loved poets, but I find some contemporary poets of haiku just as inspiring. Below, are a few of my favourites...

campfire extinguished
the woman washing dishes
in a pan of stars
(Raymond Roseliep)

dozing on horseback
smoke from the tea-fires
drifts to the moon
(Basho)

the old pond:
a frog jumps in
the sound of water
(Basho)

between the rocks
water the ocean
didn't take back
(Gary Hotham)

Reading Japanese poetry inspired the following poem:

Tear

A single tear
Tracks its path
Down her cheek
A stray tell
Non discreet
But hidden from most
Who is to know the burden of that single tear
and where it came from?

Lily Basnet

Friday 14 January 2011

Stuff

George Carlin, (a brilliant American stand-up comic) does a very funny piece about 'stuff.' He talks about how we are all trying to find a place for our stuff. Whether we are at home, looking for a bigger home (due to too much stuff), going away for a holiday or simply staying in somebody else's home. He mentions how our stuff is important to us, whereas other people's stuff is just crap! Ironically, he manages to take a trivial subject and from a different perspective, highlight our blatent attachment to material things.


Stuff

We move on.
All that's left is our physical imprint on the world.
Our stuff, pointless things.
Memories and attachments that live on only in our mind.
Whilst stuff disintegrates over time.
Soon everyone is forgotten.
And we were never here in the first place.

Lily Basnet

Tuesday 11 January 2011

Words

We all remember the old, childhood saying: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' The truth is that words spoken in the heat of the moment can stay with you for a lifetime. Few people are able to forget strong criticism, especially if it is delivered from the people closest to us. Ironically, words can highlight an issue deep within ourselves and the person communicating that message can be oblivious to its hurt. Our environment is a fluid, subjective reality mirroring our deep beliefs and issues straight back at us.


Your Words

The words you say
In a moment of heat
Are never forgotten
Dissected, analysed and replayed
Quietly smouldering and burning latently
They lie at the periphery of my consciousness
An opprobrium onto themselves
Replacing good thoughts and overwriting their positive deeds
Radiactive waste laid to rest
In the vast chasm of a mind
Where I have no choice but to pass by
At least once a day

Lily Basnet

Sunday 9 January 2011

Worth

One of the biggest questions I ever asked myself was 'what is my worth?' (loosely translated as, my life's purpose). Brought up into a family where I never felt a sense of belonging or connection, I remember staring through my bedroom window, hypnotised by a windy sky. If you stared at one particular cloud, your eyes were guided across the window until the cloud was mystically blown out of sight. I would stare at the clouds for what seemed like hours, seeing all kinds of creatures and shapes. And during this time, I would ask these questions to myself.



My Worth

As the day impresses its newness upon me
The sun's warmth drawing a smile from my lips
My disposition bright and untarnished
Where opportunities are within reach and visible to my touch
I am connected to the vast possibility; that is the Universe
Dynamically expanding and creating
through my own experience
I have everything before me
I am the lucky and the unfortunate
For my true purpose is known to me
And I will know who I am?


Lily Basnet