Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world

I have not written anything in weeks, perhaps months. Sometimes my lack of creativity is a result of anxiety, stress or upset. I usually find my mental state is in direct proportion to my creative output. But actually, this past period, Christmas and the New Year, has been a wonderful time with family and friends in Northern Ireland.

2018 was not a great year, I have to say. I lost far too many family and friends. I remember loved ones living or dead each morning and night. I write their initials down as they are recalled. The list is burnt into my memory with repetition but this year suddenly a host of new initials have been added.

I recall what my dad used to say in his 80s, “I have more loved ones in the next world than here, in this one”. It was a strange sensation, he said, to dream and be surrounded by those who have loved you and awake to find them gone. What is the mystery of this dream world where emotions run riot and our subconscious thoughts, past experiences and even future seem to flow together?

Because of such precious time over the festive period with loved ones I came back to Malta buoyed up with injections of energy and love. Wonderful conversations have worked their magic. Laughter quieted down the worries of this world. Instead of longing for all the things I don’t have there is a powerful sense of gratitude for all that I have been given.

Then, in the New Year this second week, news arrives of yet another loss. A dear friend who I visited only a week ago has died. When I called he had been in bed at home and was bone tired. When roused he lifted his head and opened his eyes seeming to recognise me. Then, he lay back into a deep restful slumber. Suddenly far, far away in a dream world and a better one. He was a Buddhist for much of his life and had meditated for an hour each day. It made him ever centred and calm.            

People brought him their problems because of that still centre. He was an excellent counsellor. Not one of the ‘new age’ bunch that prattle on “tell me more” without any valuable input of their own. Fear of litigation has created a new species of counsellor who say nothing for fear of doing harm. Given their lack of real experience and sometimes questionable motives it is perhaps not wrong for this to be their aspiration!

But real counsellors like him listened intently and then spoke to the issues raised. He never claimed the guru status or assumed he knew all the answers. The views he expressed were not channelled from a mystic source. Instead, they came from years of experience in healthcare, management and life. They were often insightful, at times unexpected, but always useful. The fact that his words never came from a desire for power or control but instead from a deep understanding and humility made them all the more welcome.

Utterance has the power to destroy or rejuvenate but real understanding can bring progress and healing. His honesty and humility allowed real consultation to take place and important truths to emerge.

For all those we have lost I find myself mourning their absence but also celebrating their loving presence in my memory banks and heart.  Today, when another dear friend’s funeral takes place in N. Ireland I am reminded of these heart-wrenching lines by a Pulitzer poetry prize winner.

“Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.”

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Letter to a Son

Del (my cousin) flies back tomorrow and it has been a whirlwind of meals/hotel and outings.  The upside is a whole range of experiences that I would otherwise have missed.  The hotel on Gozo was lovely, not far from the Azure window and has an amazing Turkish spa.  Marble tiles with basins of hot and cold water and ornate bowls with which to pour the stuff over you.   The tiles on the huge table and benches/walls are heated.  So whether you lie prone or sit leaning against the walls you are embraced by the wet warmth.  

Power showers are everywhere/plunge pools/swimming pools with massive waterfalls that blast your shoulder muscles into submission.  In the entrance of the spa are jugs of scented oil with which to anoint hair and skin.  Next to the Hamman is a darkened room with sun lounges/cushions laid out among the candles and low meditative music plays you lie tranquil surrounded by the novelty of no distractions.  Your mind settles like a pool without occupants.  A glass stillness reflecting your reflections.  Del and I lay in total silence for an hour, well, Del slept actually.  

In fact, I have observed Del can fall asleep on a canteen table, on three seats in the ferry terminal, prone on a sun-baked wall and even on a bench overlooking the coast.  She even fell asleep ipad crushed between forearms, hands together in supplication.  It is a great gift from God to be able to sleep anywhere!  

I look on amazed and struck by how different we all are.  It is so precious to share time with others as it opens a window to a completely different world.  Most of the time we have to settle for our own small keyhole on things.  I have meaning to write to you for sometime and then didn’t get round to it.  I need to warm up so as to speak.  Get my writing going again.  So forgive my rustiness.  

So satisfying to have those wonderful drawings of yours pour out and thanks for sharing them with me.  I studied them and their names with interest.  When being creative it is hard to know where the pen will go next but it is delightful to see creation unfold.  It is in that inner absorption that makes magic appear and you are fortunate indeed to have a magic wand (pen/pencil) that takes you to such a mysterious place.  Opening that door to an inner place in all of us that we cannot miss out on.

I’d love to see you with your own little art studio room all set up with implements at the ready and walls covered with your creations.  Being able to go to that place whenever the need/desire came.  If I’m honest I’d also love to see you surrounded with lovely people that bask in your ability to love and who also radiate that back.  Being able to have those wonderful nurturing conversations that you engender in all that meet you.  

For me having my own children blew my mind and heart.  It’s like producing a piece of art that is better than anything you can devise.  A part of you and the one you love but better than both of you.  A masterpiece that changes with each day but lodges itself deep within your heart.  With each hug and laugh they embed hooks deep within heart muscle making you melt with joy.  I regret many things I have done.  Wish I’d done so many things differently/wisely/patiently but you three boys have made my life joyous despite all my stumbling.  

Know how much you bring to my life.  How I hug myself in delight at your happiness and am inconsolable when worries cloud your day.  If I had my way I would have wrapped you all in cotton wool protected from all harm but what sort of life is that?  No, I must celebrate your freedom, your independence, your successes and triumphs however hard won.  

Choose good people to have around.  Such fellowship cleanses the rust from off our heart and allows us to lower the barriers that are needed to protect us from others!  There are definitely those that suck us dry emotionally and there are those that we find in their presence our souls grow.  We become people we like more, not less.  Keeping your finger on that pulse that tells us which direction this person brings to us is vital.  You, who are so intuitive, have a great advantage.  I stumble blind in this world, not able to distinguish the good from the bad.  Only through painful experience does my antenna get the message, ‘run, run, run like the wind!’  Well, I did warn you that my writing was rusty so apologies for all this rambling.  I hope you can make more sense of it than I can.  Know that it is sent with all my love and gratitude.  Thanks again for all your love and for making this world sweeter!

Lots of love