“My passport has been found. I collected my ticket to U.K. today. In reality now, I could go anywhere I choose. But my weird morality makes the decision. Ticket bought – I return to the land of my birth. The story (the sequence of events here in Berlin) astound me. After 3 months here, I remain, in ‘real time‘, quite alone. In honesty very few people I have met have been ‘real‘ enough to secure any true connection. Strange. Either they are not ‘real’, or they are so tied-up in their own stories that the ‘link’ remains very much one-sided. Or, perhaps more worrying, I am not the kind of person anyone wants to connect with! Perhaps my apparent lack of vulnerability gives others the feeling that I need no-one. In’real’ time this is true! Maybe, over my time walking in dreams I have created a myth of ‘connection’ that, in itself, cannot be. Everyone has their own lives to lead.So what then is friendship? Time and time again I seem to give what is so gratefully received. And in the long term I always receive so much help and support from others….in the ‘one world’ ideal, it seems to work, karmicly….but I have never really achieved that’give and take’ link between two people.(When I use ‘I’ of course I mean the mythical ‘I’ that has never existed!) Is it that I just don’t let people in? Or is it that, as I feel, people do not trust this kind of openness anymore? Or is it simply that I do not recognise it when it is there, due to exaggerated expectations? Also I am confused by my deep repeating need for this kind of friendship. Is it only increasing as I grow older, due to my not fulfilling my natural role as a woman…to mate and bear children? Was this to be achieved, of course the void would be filled. A concrete ‘connection’ would be made and there would then be those that ‘need‘ me. I exist without purpose. Children impose purpose on ones life. They are the future. I think I should make a good mother. Indeed, increasingly, the relief would be great. Just to be given a visible reason for being. Sometimes it seems that my existence comprises of struggling to find something, some activity, some direction, creative venue, that would successfully replace a child! A project? A business venture? Something that needs me! But why this inbuilt aversion to actually bringing a child into this world? I would have to find a partner. Alone would not be balanced somehow. Perhaps it is my laziness and my lack of confidence in accepting responsibility? Is to adopt the position of witness, observer, wanderer and general bringer of positive vibes – the spiritual journeyer – a kind of cop-out? Is it a kind of excuse for what is not? Is it taking the easy option for the sake of nothing save my integrity? Certainly, psychologically, it is a dangerous road to follow. The fear that I could become a sad and lonely caricature haunts me recently….My main consolation is that I really know, have learnt/remembered that we are all alone. Generally I continue to live on a world-wide plane, unconcerned, except where necessary, with everyday mundanities, dealing only with the immediate. I care deeply about the future of this planet and am often frustrated by my seeming inability to do anything significant to positively change it. Ah, there lies the truth. I feel that maybe I aim my arrows and dreams too high, too far for my dreams to be realised….and as such, sit down by the river, stare at my own reflection and simply cry at the futility of it all! If you can’t just jump the river, one must create stepping stones. Those with money and stability just build a bridge. I have neither. But on reflection – the bridge is ugly and permanent and I would rather use stones, that can be replaced with ease, but equally could be swept away, at anytime, by the flow. Maybe it is a better life, just to remain on one side of the river and not attempt a crossing. To sit and be happy sitting. To keep the dream of the ‘other‘ side alive, without the pain of discovering that it too is full of flaws and disharmony. But then movement and sound seem to constitute human proof of life to me. And the ‘other‘side beckons, waggling ‘increased understanding’ as a bribe. Knowledge and the opportunity to prove to others that I am alive and able. Maybe I know this now, despite my chaos and irregularities. I am still here. I used to stand for leaping barriers, flying and the actual living of others, unrealised, wildest dreams. This I have proved can be a wonderful reality! But then, with time, I feel an old woman, deep in my psyche, chuckling as she sits outside the house watching the young expending so much energy and time creating sandcastles that in the next breath are destroyed in laughter by their builder….or tending kindly to the child that runs to her in so much pain due to the serious loss of a piece of precious glass that made the sun look blue – she understands this pain, but understands that it is only a matter of time before this same child will cry the same tears over the death of a loved one or the failure of a life times ambition….To remain a child forever used to be my dream. Now its tempered with the dream of growing old gracefully. To grow older in wisdom. Like a tree. A young sapling and the great oak, the same tree with more branches. So I should keep crossing rivers. It is when I am older that I will have the time to sit and reflect. But I will not take a big run up to jumping. Now is the time to place the stones, carefully, so as to avoid a thorough soaking or slipping and being swept away. I know this river I am crossing must be very, very wide as I cannot now see the other side. I hope that as I lay the stones it shall become clearer as I continue.I’ll take my history with me as a stick to probe the depths of the water and give me balance.(If the river is very wide tho…it may run too deep for the stepping stone technique…perhaps I should walk back up it’s length a while…retrace its course until I find an easier place for crossing. Is there anything wrong with paying the ferryman? That’s easy to say, but that all depends on if anyone before has travelled the same river and set up such a crossing! I am increasingly convinced that my river is not a well-travelled path. My history of ‘alone’ stands to strengthen this feeling….So, perhaps, I’ve trekked down river too far to cross, at first I didn’t believe I wanted to….jump in….to go with the flow….but now I smell the sea, I feel the need to…actually it’s more like giving in to logic. I am not ready to join the sea. I can continue away from the river a while, but I can be sure that another will soon block my way…or I can retrace my steps and cross this river, I know so well now, with sure feet at a point higher in its course. The entire ‘accident’ of Berlin stopped me abruptly in my forward dreaming. Perhaps a warning as to the very width of the river at this point. The timing of the stolen passport, the lack of success at applying for a new one here, the inevitability of returning to the U.K., and, then, ticket bought, the mysterious re-emergence of my passport, seem to point to a returning to source.Sometimes in life it seems necessary to move backwards walking forwards. It is humbling somehow. So all this is, without a doubt, the ramblings of a woman alone, with too much time and no direction and I’ve learnt recently that direction by no means comes to you. There are times in one’s life when you must make your direction and take responsibility for its outcome. The dream time is over. I must now reform the relationship I once had with ‘real time‘….and throw the first stone into the river.”
“Plagiarised nonsense as always. Why do I always make things so complicated?! Instead of talk of rivers it would be better to write of action – real direction – ideas – plans – thought – poems..
NO MORE SELF_OBSESSED MUD!
The boredom that I feel is LAZINESS, nothing else. Concentrated meditation requires a good space. I have many interesting ideas for things to do with this time….when life feels empty? Do them!”