Beyond Narnia.

I was gifted a complete set of the ‘Chronicles of Narnia’ as a precocious eight year old. C.S Lewis opened the door to a new universe of high fantasy in which I took great delight exploring. I have read the books again and again and each time found fresh insights in the text. Like old friends, I know they will always be there when I wish to spend time with them once more.

Recently I have been reading other works from what is an impressively large collection. ‘The 4 Loves’ is one that I keep picking up in my search for a simple (and spiritual) framework on which to hang the competing ideas and emotions that clutter my  head and my heart, a framework on which I can distinguish that which is truthful and beautiful from the hollow and deceptive.

Love can be as complicated as you would like to make it. Or not. I think it all depends on how you view yourself, how far you let your ego and needs into a relationship, any relationship, be it with a friend, a lover, family or God. I also believe that an individual’s understanding or perhaps misunderstanding of what ‘love’ is, plays a role in both how and who we choose to have relationships with, choose to love.

I know that there is a lot that I still don’t understand, a myriad questions that I still have; mostly related to the hurt and pain that to some degree seem to accompany love. Death in the family, the death of a spouse, the death of a relationship, it all hurts. Sometimes it feels easier not to love at all. Yet I am certain that, being human, we must love. After all, it is what makes the world go ‘round…

The following quote is taken from C.S. Lewis’ ‘The 4 Loves’.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

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Night Swimming

Night Swimmming
 
Surrounded by the softness, revealed in your repose,
That contradict the angles of your form.
My fingers seek those sensuous zones;
These hollows hold the heat of you, the heart of you; the you of you.
 
It’s 3 am, Sunday morning. I’m poised upon the brink.
Do I fall? And if I fall, will you be falling too?
I listen to your purring; soporific snores.
That wake a yearning deep inside and leave me wanting more.
 
And as I drop, I taste the tang of iodine,
Of salt soaked skin,
And the essence of the the winter river,
Caught in the curls of your hair.
 
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I have noticed you at night

I Have noticed you at night

I have noticed you at night.
Your promise-laden presence
Precedes you into every room
And I forget to breathe.

I have noticed you at night,
Floating in a cloud of faces
That fade to grey, pale to post scripts
In the light electric of your smile.

I have noticed you at night,
Stolen glances, crowded rooms
And dreamt of drowning (once again)
In pools of cerulean blue.

I have noticed you at night,
Veiled in an air of intimacy
And, if frank, rue the fact it’s worn
For someone else. Not me.

I have noticed you at night,
And found, despite myself,
I celebrate your living,
And am blessed to see you loving.

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Return of the Sun.

First off, my apologies for the 6 month sabbatical from this blog. Life is full of the unexpected, the turbulence of entropy and during this time I have slowly started rebuilding my life into an experience that will be gentle. For me that has involved spending time with the earth, preparing ground on which I am growing flowers and vegetables.

Being part of nature, and an aware part, you start to notice the little things that surround you, sounds and scents, colours and creatures. Everything seems to slow down, feel manageable, an experience far removed from the frenetic pace that seems to overwhelm city dwellers. In a sense it is a similar experience to sailing, where your life is packed neatly into the defined space around you.
Spring is slowly returning to the Eastern Cape and despite chilly evenings and the odd icy morning, nature is coming out of hibernation. I have never enjoyed the cold and the return of the sun is very welcome!

I have also started writing again, mostly poetry but I am also working on ideas for a new novel. Hopefully I will be posting some of my poems during the next month.

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Landscapes

“Are you not pleased that it is part of your past”

It might have been covered by the snows of time but it is still part of the landscape of my existence.”

I hope that I am correct in attributing that to Ayn Rand. But whoever coined the expression, hit the nail squarely on the head.

Our lives are built on decisions and choices. They all have repercussions and they all define the paths that our futures will take. They are the terraforming forces of our own landscapes; and we decide what that landscape will look like.

Love and loss, careers and catastrophes, family and friends, girlfriends and the ghosts of our youth carve canyons and chasms in the seeming solidity of our lives. I can only hope that there are heights you can scale from which you can gain perspective; precipices perhaps, which although by definition, are dangerous, offer an honest account of your journey to now.

Love your landscape. Or change it.

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Changing Lanes

Although a small town boy; I was born and raised in Grahamstown, a tiny city with an intricate history. I was infected with ‘wanderlust’ and spent at least half of my life overseas. Both seas, (although ‘ocean’ would be a more apt description). I have lived in London, Vancouver, Tel Aviv, Eilat and Miami. And for a significant portion of my life, lived on the oceans themselves. With a Royal Yacht Association Yacht Master Ocean ticket. I delivered yachts from factories in France and South Africa to their new owners, usually in the Caribbean and the U.S. of A.

Apart from the Karoo, the night skies are incomparable. Not a light in 2000 nautical miles. I could tell stories of exploding meteors over the Bahamas. Whales, that in a splash of a tail, swamped the cockpit of a 60 foot Swan. Finding containers; flotsam from ships, which when opened contained a rusting Mercedes Benz.  And salvaging a 30ft ‘Muira’ an abandoned   ‘Land Rover of the ocean’.

But that life becomes lonely and so I find myself owning 2 properties on land! And no, I don’t miss the past. I have returned to a village, 8 miles from the ocean, and dawn at the beach, the scope that it offers, reminds me, and fondly, of the freedom of life on the ocean. And no, I wouldn’t swap my life now for memories.

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A thank you to my Angels

Relationships can be complicated, and yes they can be easy. In my 45 years of existence I have been blessed by angels; woman who have entered my life and redefined my opinions on life and love. I suppose that I have a need to thank and bless these loving entities. Powerful and naively wise. I could name names but that would transform this blog into; Graffiti with punctuation….

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