Being curious

I love this from Pema Chodron …

Our wisdom is all mixed up with what we call our neurosis. Our brilliance, our juiciness, our spiciness, is all mixed up with our craziness and our confusion, and therefore it doesn’t do any good to try to get rid of our so-called negative aspects, because in that process we also get rid of our basic wonderfulness. We can lead our life so as to become more awake to who we are and what we’re doing rather than trying to improve or change or get rid of who we are or what we’re doing. The key is to wake up, to become more alert, more inquisitive and curious about ourselves.

Wisdom of No Escape


The only poetry

There is no poetry in breast cancer except to closely observe how she deals with it – incredibly courageous and with no drama. If I were to take her place, I would be a crumpled heap in the corner full of self-pity.

Not her.

She is the living embodiment of someone who simply shows courage through the awfulness of chemo and the toxins that make her feel constantly ill. Courage is not the absence of facing up to the dread of the the next treatment. She lives and breathes courage and I am in awe of the poetry she lives out.

Waking from pain

Emerging in the shallows where the pain sits in the chest like this great, big … so I can’t work it out, explain it,

but fuck I can feel it

I am not sure what it is but it is great, big …

Steve captured the idea when we shared the sense of the pain that existed and although I can’t remember the exact words

Everything he said landed on the pain that I

Too, felt

Our minds

Heard this on a podcast with Sam Harris. It’s called Waking Up. Then I read it in his book of the same name.  This landed on me perfectly …

Our minds are all we have. They are all we have ever had. And they are all we can offer others. This might not be obvious, especially when there are aspects of your life that seem in need of improvement—when your goals are unrealized, or you are struggling to find a career, or you have relationships that need repairing. But it’s the truth. Every experience you have ever had has been shaped by your mind. Every relationship is as good or as bad as it is because of the minds involved. If you are perpetually angry, depressed, confused, and unloving, or your attention is elsewhere, it won’t matter how successful you become or who is in your life—you won’t enjoy any of it. Sam Harris, Wakimg Up.

Just brilliant and so clear.

After the swamp

I kind of encountered a traffic jam in my mind and got stuck with my writing. Crafting a response after the big swamp experience has been impossible. Loads of ideas float in on the wind, but they are scattered and need to be gathered up before they are out of reach again. Ah, that’s the plan.

Brooding Cargo II


This is based on a piece that I wrote nearly three years ago. It is an African memory.

I am a brooding cargo transported from a past that had privilege based on the colour of my skin.

Is it possible to reject the context of a childhood and yet, somehow, still inexplicably have the sweetest of memories of a time that seemed to last forever?

I think it is.

When I look back – probably too often – I am pulled and punched by a land and a time that, for me, has a wonderment and a deep and lasting pain.

I grapple with the paradox.

The time that I cast my mind to is most probably rose-tinted: I want to say out loud that the land can never be – for it has been there for eons and its beauty is beyond the saying of these words; millions of eyes have surveyed it; they, too, have been transported of an evening by the sight of the sun falling into a land with a night sky that is now every inch my cargo.