December writing

It is December, and the cold, the wet and the damp has set in, albeit today is around sixty-eight degrees. A beautiful winter’s day. Our sabbatical has gone on and on, and getting back to work appears to be quite difficult. I had planned to start researching and writing about our ontological model of health, but have had little motivation. In August we went to Freiburg in Germany, for a two week conference and during that time, I realized that I had the understanding of what to write, only it wasn’t the original premise that I had stuck in my mind. It was a sudden ah ha, but even then I have not been able to sit down and write let alone begin the research I must do. However the other day, one of my daughters, Rebecca, told me that the stories, the existential experiences that I have had, should be the basis of the book, and for me to write them down as short stories. This was prompted as I had recounted a particular dream that I had just had, which had had a marked impression on me. These, she informed me, would or could be the basis of the book. I followed the invitation and have begun to do this, although actually getting down into my ‘office’ is still a difficult manoevre when all around, are the distractions of stepping down. I’m going there now!

Revamping the site

This may be the fifth time, even sixth where the site has been rejiggered. It's May here in Turkey, and the month of ramadan, so a good time to look at the content; how its been written and how much or how little should be included. It is a particularly poignant time for me, as I am in this state of openness, or perhaps more accurately bewilderment. The seven years we were in Russia–sounds rather biblical–were an extraordinary time for both of us. Exhilarating, frustrating, exciting, depressive, adventurous, confining; you can see the binary nature of the process. We were up and down in our feelings, actually drowning in the sadness, pathos, unclean, nepotic amoral miasma that we were trying to resurrect and make clean, pure and innocent. During that time both of us had  an extraordinary inner process occur; quite out of the blue, but absolutely needed. It was as if both our hearts suddenly expanded, widened, got lighter, lifted us up from the collective  feelings, the rather large field that we had been in, and allowed us to float, poised above the fray. It was a life saver. It corresponded to the Sufi pyschospiritual idea of the heart of air, which allowed us to be between heaven and earth, separate and less involved in the fields and feelings of the collective.

Heart of air

Heart of air

So light and breezy has my heart been; not terribly involved, it rather likes the feeling of the air blowing past, the heart tugging on the string, but I am at least holding onto the string–so I haven't quite floated off. This heart sits in its special place not touched, neither bothered, nor fussed. However, it then begs the question what is my hearts desire, what is meaningful for me; my further evolving purpose? It has not emerged as yet; but I am hoping that the Implicate will guide me towards the next phase. After all, we have all this work to teach, disseminate–where are those teachers? I have to write–but I prevaricate–as I'm  'blowing in the wind'!