MINDFULNESS – The Artist’s Way
In the cloudless blue coloured sky, I watched a crow and a buzzard rise way up high, they then fought a spiralling duel, with the buzzard making all the noise as they continued to carve the sky. Finally, they disappeared into the silhouetted woods, for the wise old crow knew the buzzard’s menacing intentions and had taken the buzzard away from his nesting site. As I continued my journey I watched and listened to a skylark, rising, suspending, then falling back to earth, to his own little patch of land, having aced his audition. No mythological siren could possibly have had a voice more alluring. As I finally arrived at the edgeland of the woods, they began to whisper their secrets, a magical scene lay before me. The wildflowers were full blown and in abundant profusion, for Spring had awakened what Autumn had put to sleep. A palette of many colours, with celandines, wood anemones and the purple haze of bluebells capturing the constant flux of light. It’s like looking inside a kaleidoscope, you see changes at every twist and turn, one which the eyes of an artist ever rested upon, or a masterpiece transferred to canvas, its pure escapism, it’s the romance of nature.
As I drank in the sights and sounds of this bucolic place, the vision of my wonderful pets, little Blue my faithful spaniel and Rocky my beloved horse refused to leave my memory. As I walked this time forgotten place in a period of warmth and happiness, I thought how wonderful it would be to walk the old path once again, but sadly it was gone, being vastly overgrown. I hadn’t realised how I had played a part in keeping these pathways open, but it made me think, perhaps my presence had made a difference, for there is a parable here too. As the book of Micah, one of the twelve minor prophets tells us, the way we walk through this world leaves paths for others to follow, and I would like to make this day worthwhile, in the hope that someone else will follow and may escape the banality of daily life. It is the heart that knows the path, the mind is just there to organise the steps.
The new life all around is part of the magical Spring season and is visible everywhere you look. All the branches of the trees were with little pale green leaves, where the sunlight slanted through and sparkled in the meandering stream. The buds have stood dormant throughout the winter and are now bursting into life, along with the early shoots of the flowers. Everyday a picture is painted, that carves and paints an atmosphere before one has burst into life, another is glamorous for disclosure, giving us a pure capacity to appreciate perfection in all things, and realising that there is life that goes beyond what science can teach. It’s the meditative charm of this endearing place.
In the corners of my vision a weasel flits across my path into the brambles as our shadows pass and it takes me back to when I was just a boy. As I approached an old shippen a weasel appeared, so I rested a while and watched her play. I could not call my wandering thoughts together and my heart won’t believe it as she flits about like a whiplash, some call it madness but to myself it’s a very splendid form of madness and my admiration for these brave little creatures is as strong for me as ever.
As I turned my course back home, life’s gentle rhythm had carried me through the day like a soothing melody and the magic runs deep. I believe the negative things in this life have a fascination for some, as we sometimes feel our survival may somehow depend on us knowing more about them, but one of my own chief delights of what appears to be an ordinary day is the joy and delight we seldom meet by appointment, for preparation limits this life of ours, and yet I seem to find beauty in places where no-one else would notice.
This wonderful education of mine has served two purposes, enabling me to heal myself both physically and mentally throughout the hardships I have endured in my life, but also to know God, and to give thanks for each new day. Our ancestors however, thought that the countryside was there to be exploited, as Genesis the opening book of the bible informs us. I believe we must interact with the forces of nature with such gentleness of grace. Wherever the grass and water flows and the common air bathes this land, and where a little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, Mother Nature perpetually flows. All is written to us and wherever we stroll will be a profit. Although there is a great inevitable defeat that awaits us all, I believe our role on this earth is to endeavour to become good ancestors and leave this world a better, richer place to live for others to follow. And yes, I do believe in God, only I spell it Nature.
