The cave of the Elders

In the afternoon, after we had all rested, Patience, Sox and I sat off towards the shore which now appeared on the distant horizon. We were walking along a path, cliffs to our right and a steep drop to our left when I heard the sound of voices. I had not expected to meet anyone on this first day of travelling and curiosity led me towards the cave from where the sound was coming.

I tethered Patience and taking Sox with me walked quietly to the opening of the cave hoping to observe without being seen. However, as soon as I had come near the mouth of the cave a friendly voice shouted out,
"Welcome stranger, come in, make yourself known to us."

I entered the cave very hesitantly, but there was no need to be afraid, for there was a group of ten people, five men and five women sitting together, drinking tea, laughing and talking. After I was made welcome,I explained that I was on a journey, mentioned who had sent me (this brought a lot of knowing laughter and shouts of "good luck then") and asked them what they were doing.
"We are Elders," they told me "and our job in the world is to teach meditation, renunciation, and the way to a quiet and peaceful mind. We are about to meditate ourselves, do you wish to join us?"

I laughed, a hard cynical little laugh and said,
"I think you would have a job teaching me to meditate - and a quiet and peaceful mind? No chance...maybe I should go?"

One of the women approached me and took my hands in hers and said,
"Stay and try. Trying is meditating as well." She looked at me, examining my features and continued "Those who resist are those who need to learn to meditate most."

We sat in rows and the meditation began. Slowly, the Elder who was leading the meditation relaxed our bodies, stilled our minds and then asked us to repeat the words "peace" and "love" as we breathed in and out. Peace, love, peace, love.......

The known world disappeared. A feeling of bliss overcame my mind which began to clear. The anguish I had known, the pain of loss, the fear of lonliness, the bitterness of betrayal all began to dissolve, like a mist leaving my body....

When the meditation was finally over I was filled with inner peace and calm. The woman who had persuaded me to stay came and sat with me.
"Aren;t you glad you stayed?" she asked and I said that I was but that I feared that the feeling of bliss would not stay with me. She handed me a large shell.
"This is treasure for your bag," she said. "When you are in need of inner peace, place the shell to your ear and you will be able to take part in our meditation. Do not fear, we shall be overseeing your journey. We will be able to "see" you even when you do not see us, for this is a spiritual quest as well as a physical journey."

I felt calm and peaceful as I said goodbye to the Elders and walked out of the cave to find Patience......who had managed to somehow work her tether loose and was nowhere to be seen. So much for inner peace I thought as I ran like a mad woman trying to find my donkey.

I did find her, eventually, drinking in a quiet place, quite happy with life, a donkey smile on her donkey face. I on the other hand, was in a state of agitation, hot and sweating having feared that she was lost forever. I stroked Patience's ears, fed her a carrot, and picked Sox up to stroke her.
"What a menagerie," I said to myself. "Inner peace indeed......how will I ever achieve inner peace when I can;t even manage for five minutes, even after meeting the Elders?" and in that moment I knew why I had come on the journey. I was in search of that elusive feeling of inner peace, and the adventures to come would show me the way. That was why my map was so indistint. There were pointers, but I would have to do much of the work by myself, deciphering clues, guessing at directions, interpreting signs. The thought was at once cheering and daunting. I sighed and turned to my companions.

"Come on you two," I said. "Time to get to the sea.......who knows what we will find when we get there," and we turned towards the distant horizon.

posted by sararichards @ 2:20 PM 1 comments

Departing Words

Departing

Nurturing the self

"How you choose to nurture yourself spiritually is a personal choice. For some people, meditating once a day may be what they need to stay centered. While spending 10-20 minutes with your eyes closed and your brain devoid of thought may seem like a lot of time doing nothing, this state of nothingness actually allows you to stay calm and focused so you can be as productive as possible. Writing in your journal everyday lets you stay in touch with yourself so that you are always tuned in to your feelings. Repeating affirmations for success, happiness, and well-being on a regular basis can help you live with optimism and enthusiasm and create what you want in life."

This was on the Daily Om today.

I needed to read this, to remember to nurture myself spiritually every day instead of worrying about the state of the house, walking the dog, doing the washing etc etc.....

I will make a commiment to journal every day and to meditate as well.

One minute I was surrounded by a group of excited travellers with their assorted steeds and the next....there was a flash and bang, and I found myself alone in a clearing in a forest with my donkey Patience. She would have to be patient. I had never learnt to ride and had no idea of how to take care of her and as for riding......I had never ridden anything in my life. Never mind. We would have to learn to look out for each other. I scratched her long ears and she placed her muzzle into my neck before wandering off to find somewhere to graze.

I looked in my bag. Hidden at the very bottom was my secret item. I knew why I had chosen it, but was not sure when I would need it but it was safe. I removed the map and began to study it closely. I did not recognise it as being anywhere in the known world. In this enchanted land it might be a map of the subconcious mind, or of hidden desires, or secrets untold. It might also be a place where adventures would take (or had taken) place.

I thought being alone would be unnerving but I felt surprisingly calm. The day was warm and balmy, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in the trees above me. I drank clear water from a stream and decided to set off down the hill towards a smudge of blue in the distance which I thought might be the sea or an inland lake.

I called Patience and she ambled over slowly.
"Slow and steady wins the race." I remembered my mother's words over half a century before.

I also remembered that she had told me
"Patience is the virtue of the donkey." This had driven me through life, until I had finally realised that donkeys were wise and then developed the art of being patient. I don't know or remember whether my mother was being ironic.

I decided to mount Patience. I put one foot into the stirrup and hauling myself up found myself sitting facing backwards. Patience snorted - I assumed she was laughing at me. Grumbling I climbed down and started again. A heave, a gasp, and I was finally sitting facing forwards.
"Walk on Patience," I said with an attempt at authority. "We need to get going."

Patience lurched forward and I fell off. This was not going to be as easy as I had hoped.


Several difficult hours later we descended from the forest onto the costal plain. I dismounted and decided to walk alongside Patience for a while and give both of us a rest. As I walked I became aware that I was being followed. A little black dog with white socks had attached itself to us and although I tried to send her away, I finally decided that she could join us and so we came that first afternoon to the seashore, me, my donkey and my little dog who I decided to call Sox in honour of her paws......

posted by sararichards @ 8:39 AM 0 comments

My Donkey

MY FAVOURITE PLACES
When we were first married Glyn and I started taking our annual holidays in Wales. I remember long sun drenched days when the children were small and ran on the beach near Aberystwyth, rain filled days one year when we were on Anglesey and one holiday when we stayed in a caravan at the edge of a cliff overlooking Clarach Bay.
Clarach Bay proved a magical place for me, where green velvet hills reached down to the sea and where we sat with a glass of wine every evening for a fortnight watching the sun sink beneath a crimson horizon far out over the water. At that time we had not yet completed our family and our last dog Sophie was still young and spent her time running on the beach each morning fetching sticks. It all seems so long ago. My baby daughter is now 26,and my dog Sophie has been gone for many years. It sometimes feels that that time was just a dream.
Once we spent our summer on the Llyn Peninsula renting an old farmhouse which had stunning views over Cardigan Bay with the mountains of Snowdonia looming blue in the distance. Once back home in Leeds I joked that if I ever went missing from home I would most certainly be found somewhere on the peninsula. The combination of mountain and sea and the quality of the light over the water were irresistible. For many years the certainty of returning to North Wales the following summer sustained me through cold dark winter months.
After my husband passed away suddenly I knew, almost instinctively that, although I loved Yorkshire, I needed to leave Leeds. I had had enough of landlocked city living and needed some space, and I longed to live somewhere by the sea. My first thought was of moving to North Wales but then, after speaking to friends, I decided that I would go and investigate the possibility of living in Spain. Emigrating to a hot country suddenly appealed to me. I wanted to run away as far as possible from the cold hurt of my loss and so I booked myself a holiday – the first holiday I had ever taken alone. Under the summer sun, with orange groves stretching as far as the eye could see I fell in love with Valencia, the area I had chosen to investigate. I spent my time traveling around the area luxuriating in the heat, swimming in the warm blue sea and enjoying the hospitality and friendliness I encountered. The idea of living in what appeared to be paradise became ever more appealing and so, on my return to England I began to prepare to sell my home.
Before the house finally sold I decided to spend Xmas in Spain. I arrived at the coldest and darkest time of year when the night temperature fell below freezing. Various difficulties became apparent which I had failed to consider in the summer heat. Firstly houses in Spain are built to lose and not retain heat and the villa we had rented for the season was like an icebox at night. A calor gas heater provided the heating and I, with nerve damaged hands, was incapable of actually lifting the gas bottles. Other heating was provided by a fan heater which ate electricity at an alarming rate. The days were warm and sunny – it was even possible to sit out on Xmas day in a tee shirt and celebrate the season with a glass of wine. But the nights were a cold and uncomfortable nightmare. There were problems with the language – I was insufficiently prepared for a life without English speaking neighbours. I drove in Spain but always with my heart in my mouth, being unsure of which way to go at roundabouts and crossroads, misreading road markings, and managing to lose myself on many occasions.
My two children flew in, and they too blew hot and cold over the idea of the move to Spain. True, it might be wonderful and provide them with some kudos having their mother in Spain living in a villa complete with swimming pool where they could invite their friends for summer holidays. However, they could both see that the country was not for me. I looked at the mountains and pined for England. I had never experienced homesickness before and the feeling was devastating. The soil was red; the park had no grass just some trees and a stony path or two. The landscape was dust and rock, resembling a lunar landscape to my eyes attuned to the blue green grass of England. There was no water anywhere and never once did a cloud darken the sky. The sun shone all day every day and I tired of the harsh light and the bright colors. I yearned for England.
I realised, almost as soon as I arrived that I could never live in Spain. My dream, born of desperation and grief was an illusion. I returned home, took my house off the market, and decided to stay in Leeds and make the best of my life there. Shortly after my return I met the man I will soon marry and now find myself living on the Wirral. It is not quite North Wales, but when I walk along the seashore I see the Welsh mountains beckoning from over the River Dee and I am reminded of the holidays I spent there with my late husband and my children. The shore is either beautiful or interesting depending on which way I walk. My late husband was in the merchant navy when I met him and as I watch the tankers and container ships turning slowly into the mouth of the Mersey I think of the sailors on board coming ashore having spent many weeks at sea and I try to remember the stories my husband told me about his seafaring days and his homecomings and I feel a connection with his spirit which I did not feel living in Leeds, even in the house we had shared for so many years.
Shortly after meeting my new partner, and soon after my return from Spain, I was introduced to the beautiful county of Shropshire and we spent a few days at the Long Myndd. I had never been there before, but, standing on top of the Myndd and looking across the green valley before me, I recalled the miserable Xmas I had spent in Spain and finally knew that in returning I had made the right decision.
I love living in the UK. I love the green countryside, the hills and hidden valleys, the little country cottages, milltowns, market towns, and villages. I have no desire ever to leave these shores again for longer than a week.