On being Centred

*

Neither up nor down...

I went out for a late afternoon walk yesterday and when crossing the road noticed this marking on a lamp post.

I imagine that the painted arrows serve some purpose for either the electricity company or maybe the telephone lines people.

But what the image made me instantly think of was:

The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men;
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up;
And when they were down, they were down,
And when they were only half-way up,
They were neither up nor down.

And from there my mind meandered back in time to this:

Halfway down the stairs
is a stair where i sit.
there isn't any other stair quite like it.
i'm not at the bottom,
i'm not at the top;
so this is the stair where I always stop.
Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up
And it isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!

Poem by A.A. Milne ~ Illustration by E.H. Shepard

~

... and then I mused on this place of neither up nor down
and being half way up and not really anywhere
and I thought that it is rather like that position
from where we sometimes climb to highs
and sometimes fall to lows
but the place to where we can return
to retrieve a sense of equanimity.


The symbol made me think that:

to be happy or content
does not imply
that we do not
experience pain and loss
or exaltation and joy


to be balanced
doesn't mean
that we do not waver
and


to be centred
doesn't mean
that we do not oscillate



When jostled, buffeted
or buoyed and bounced
by the ebb and flow of life
we can learn to return
to that place half way up,
half way down,
neither up nor down



We can find ourselves once again
and reclaim those feelings
of serenity and calm




What do you use
as your ballast
when you feel off centre?

Oh Happy Days

*

Confluence

*

I glanced outside
at the river
and noticed a strange effect

the ducks had noticed it too
but couldn't tell me
what had caused the swells

no boats had been passing
but yet the river
rollicked and roiled...

the moon high above
in the afternoon sky

probably held the answer
but she was keeping it to herself

so I had to reason
that it was a confluence
of the tide and wind

and be content with that...




*

River Moods

*

The Moods of my River...

I have lived here
on this river
for over
twenty five years

And in that time it has aged
like me...

The tree
directly behind the pelican
is the cormorant tree
which is shown
on the very left
of the top image

Each day I watch the river:
the flowing water
the birds coming and going
the sun playing on the trees
and the painted sky beyond


and notice her moods
and vagaries


She slumbers
and wakes

she reflects
in her own time

she offers a home
to the cormorants,
their roosting tree
has not changed
in all those years

she is receptive
and willing
to take us along

she slows
and idles
for the old fishermen

she can appear
saddened
at times

and joyful
at others

dazzlingly bright
in her fine golden gown

sombre
and subdued

quiet and thoughtful
peacefully still

enchanting
at sunset








romantic
in the moonlight

and hazy
with the moon





I have watched the sunlight catch
the white breasts
of the roosting cormorants
as they bow in prayer
seen the Brahminy kites
and their descendants
build their nests
in the tallest gums
for a quarter of a century
and watched them scoop fish
from the river with their talons
seen a hammer head shark
nose up onto the beach
pelicans glide
ducks pair and bob
sting rays flounce
herons and ibis dive
and glide over the water's surface
and mullet leap for joy



I have heard
the crows
repeatedly
shatter the morning still
the kookaburras laugh gleefully
and whip birds call,
amongst the many birds
whose singing creates
the river birdsong




but most of all
I have loved
to watch the
ripples glide in and out
upon the tides
at their own pace
in their own unhurried way
as they have for eons before
and will for years to come...





Oh Blessed River
Oh Happy days




*

Big Chill

The Big Chill...

It was a cold start
to the day
The stocks
on my kitchen bench top
looked cold today

When I drove to the Physio's
at 8 am,
the car registered
only 10*C,
which is about as low
as we get at that time of day,
the sun was up and glowing
but a chill rode the breeze...




But with some physio
and encouraging words
the ankle warmed up...

The Orange Trumpet flower Creeper
blanketed the street

Pyrostegia Venusta

The Greek meaning:
pyros - flame
stege - covering
Venusta - pleasing


a warm blanket
of orange trumpets

At the gym
the upper body
was put through its paces
until it became
thoroughly warmed through





after which a perfectly
hot flat white and
the company of my friend
warmed the cockles
of my heart
whatever that may mean;




I know that cockles are a shellfish
found in the muddy tidal flats
of the Whareama River
where we have a bach,
on the East Coast of New Zealand




so I imagine
the figure of speech suggests
a warming
way down
to the murky
hidden depths...






In the afternoon
warm conversations
with my blogging compatriots
spent a happy hour or two,
and the love in my Mother's voice
carried across the Tasman Sea
warmed my soul






and then
if that was not enough
when my Beloved arrived home
from his day at work
he had with him a box...

oh
what a warm, exciting
tingle of anticipation

and as I later
wrapped myself
in the cuddly, cold evening throw
on the sofa

after my Jamie Oliver
look alike dinner:
an oven bake of -
roasted garlic
sweet potato
chicken sausages
capers
(I had no olives left)
cherry tomatoes on the vine
and long sinuous green beans

I felt warmed

all

the

way

through...

Oh Happy Days






*

A Blustery Day

*

It's a blustery day
out there today...

The outgoing tide
rushes along
in choppy waves

the cormorant gum tree
is completely empty
only an occasional bird cry
rises over the wind

the golden canes
thrash and lash
at the wooden siding
of the kitchen wall

my washing is dancing
and leaping on the lines
strung between
the verandah posts
reaching out
to the bougainvillea
trying to get snagged
on her thorns









Now and then the sun
finds a slash
in the racing clouds
and glances through








the kitchen herbs
green in a row
hug in the shelter
of the wall









My baby tomato plants
now flowering,
toss their heads
at the wind
in defiance









Inside...
the Turkish coffee pot
is bubbling with glee,
the aroma my opiate,
the soy milk is warmed
and waiting to joins it's elixir


And I am in my nest - warm
and warmed
by Mary Oliver...




Oh Happy days

*

The Intruders

*

The Intruders

Today the new tenants
(remember they have
been renamed)

demonstrated
their new yoga pose

they have progressed
from the tree pose
to a more balletic stance -
I think I'll simply call
the Duck pose

they also showed me
that underneath their
tawny brown overcoats

they have flashes
of iridescent blue
and green

and purple

Now let me think
what have we
scheduled for today...

some serious preening
to start with

engineered with
marvellous balance

Now what do you say Maude -
a drink
or a swim?

a drink it shall be...

But wait what's this...

Intruders!

Go back!
Go back
from where you came
No squatters allowed

This deck is taken

Let's freshen up
and head on out...

Are you ready Maude?

But look
who have we here

waiting on the beach

Perhaps we might be best
to tuck ourselves up
and have a snooze,
and safeguard our tenancy
a little while longer...

*