Yoga for a purpose

At the other side of the world the elements have unleashed themsleves, causing death to thousands upon thousands, and mayhem and sorrow for million upon million.

I sit in a small room in my cosy home, and I hope that my pure thoughts and the good wishes that are generated in my meditation somehow enable another human soul to bear the unbearable, to reach the deepest of their courage in the midst of despair.

I am sending thoughts of Peace to the victims of the cataclysm in Asia. I hope you can join me.

I believe our power to help goes far beyond the material. I hope you can believe it too.

Good wishes, therefore, to all, but especially to my sisters and brothers in Asia at this time,

Jocelyne

In between

two visitors, from the one who does "do" Christmas, best wishes for a happy Christmas to you all who do it!

Jocelyne

Nothing more to say

Good wishes

Jocelyne

the people keep a'coming and the train done gone

That's what I woke up singing this morning. Then I open the blog, and I think: that's what happens when you don't write a post: the people keep a'coming and the train done gone.

In my case, the train done gone to bed, mostly! The train done gone dog tired and kapput, so the train done gone to bed, or watch TV and that's it!

This morning the frost which graces the grey landscape with a filter of purity cheers me no end: I AM glad to be unwell, since it confines me to the warmth of my cosy home. I lack for nothing. I crave nothing, save the company of one or two special souls, on occasion.

I shall invent some interesting meals, watch some travel programmes and some of TV5's offerings in French. I shall do bits of sewing, lots of phoning.

The room I need to sort out will wait yet another day before I feel strong enough to launch the winter offensive. (although IT does offend me!!!)

I shall have a million good thoughts for all the people I know, and for all the people I do not know.

I shall have a happy day!

May you also create a life you love.

Love,

Jocelyne

Some days,

I just feel like giving someone else my user name and password and asking them to write for me...That's when inspiration does not hit the "on" position.

Yet, many thoughts go through the feverish brain, all day long doing nothing, waiting to get better.

Doing nothing other than: speaking on the phone, receiving well-meaning visitors in a dignified manner and watching TV at times when I would normally not be watching TV. I am glad to see that I can spend a little time with Michael Palin at almost any time I chose! Travelling, here, there or in the Himalayas: love it!

I have a very old book (1930's I think). It was a part of an illustrated encyclopedia called "Peoples of all Nations", and the Tome-VolumeVI- I have is from P(Palestine) to S (Sin Kiang). It fascinates me. Listening to ol' Michael talking about the people and places on the Himalayas treck reminds me of the captions in that book. On page 4051 (Peru and its People), one discovers that

"Cashibo Indians eat their aged relatives when they are past work: a custom due to pious desire thus to assimilate the parental virtues".

I can imagine Michael narating this to us without batting an eyelid...

The eurocentrism of the book holds me in a state of amused fascination as do its lyrical descriptions of the photographs:

"Elegant in figure and deportment this girl of Yugo-Slavia displays to advantage a simple yet richly embroidered variety of national dress" .

Now, I don't know whether one can scan pictures and then put them on a blog...Oh yes I do! cf Madeleine! Right! So here is the new challenge, the new nettle which I will graps, jsut so you can see the dubious look on the faces of the ancestor eaters and the Monty Pythonesque glance of the Yugo-Slavia Beauty...That's a promise.

Other gems, at random:

" Small sons go early into long trousers in Central Portugal, and a certain dignity attached to grown up garb is visible in these meninos"

"Jest and repartee enliven a deal in sardines. Thousands of these fish are caught each year, and are much appreciated in the island towns"

"The combined waters of the Ganges and the BrahmaPutra....Bangla Desh has 250 rivers....The "Ostrich" is both local bus and cargo ship..."

See what I mean? I just love the man.

May all your photos have entertaining captions,

Love to peoples of all nations.

Jocelyne

Feverish haze.....

What are your favourite antibiotics?

So first it was the heart

...and now it's the lungs! I've got pleurisy...Just as well really, because the pain in my chest was beginning to worry me a bit. I've had to relent and to start a course of antibiotics to try and stop the dreadded "lergie".

Benefits:

-I have the perfect excuse for this year's not "doing" Christmas!!!!!
-I definitely won't go out to the shops during this crazy season.
-I can feel completely as ease with doing nearly nothing all day long.
-I will finish hemming the curtains for Ken which have been sort of waiting for a few days/weeks.
-Some people will show me even more kindness than usual (Hey! I don't ask them to! But that's fine by me...)
-My doctor will know that I am not a maligering hypochondriac, since I waited a whole week to have a proper appointment before consulting (For those of you who are not in the UK that is as opposed to seeing your GP on an "emergency" appointment basis on any given day)
-I am eating chestnuts this evening to keep up my spirits...
-My music partners will be sooo impressed that I still came out to sing on Monday night.

Ah singing! Such a joy. Even the blues...(that does not make sense really, does it)

My very favorite at the moment is "Mood Indigo". Now, if I was Dave, I'd be able to put a lovely link to a perfectly suitable rendering of the tune by a very famous performer or other...But I am not Dave..so ...nothing other than a title I'm afraid.

I AM feeling tired, (truly am!), so I'll send the usual loving greetings and bow out for the day,

Cheers,

Jocelyne

One or two things I don't "do"

I don't really "do" misery any more. Used to, don't any more!

And I don't "do" Christmas! I know what it is meant to be, meant to mean, and although I don't subscribe to a Christian faith, I would probably do Christmas more if...

And here come the most predictable comment in the whole universe: if it hadn't become a commercial free for all.

I can agree with wanting to lighten up the winter nights with jolly lights everywhere. I can agree with having a Holy-day to ease up the exhaustion of working during those cold days. I can agree with families getting together in a festive spirit. So, quite a lot I can agree with. But, there is so much else, which I think is sheer collective madness. So many unrealistic expectations which cause so much misery. And I won't "do" collective madness...any more than I "do" misery.

I don't do cards to all the neighbours whom I don't even know, even thought they send them to me. I don't do them to folk I don't care enough to write to regularly, or to folks I speak to or see all the time. I don't "do" Christmas presents except for my 2 year old niece -can't get out of that one, but found a compromise by sending her a token gift and a proper Alternative gift from World Vision's alternative gifts catalogue. And I don't require presents...All my friends, and the very few remaining members of my family are used to it and I'm sure they're secretely pleased to have one fewer thing to think about.

I may make some mince pies (inspired by Jezebel of all's well Jezebel fame http://allswelljezebel.blogspot.com/)

I may yet put last year's lights up if I can find a spare socket in amongst the spaghetti that lives behind the TV...and if the mood takes me.

I have been trying not to bore people with these views, but, well, it's getting so close, I had to come out with it!

Nevertheless, to all of you who are not under a seasonal poor health curfew, or who do enjoy the festivities, as well as to all of us to whom they just do not appeal, best wishes for a good Christmas season!

Love in all seasons,

Jocelyne

Have you ever experienced REAL temptation?

Following on from the post regarding the unwanted package delivered to my house a couple of days ago.

I have a gardener. He is a real sweet man, who comes and mows the lawn, and trims the hedges for me, since I am no longer able to do these things myself. Over the course of the year, we have had some chats, during which I have found out a few things about him. He is about my age, and is bringing up an eleven year boy by himself, pretty well too from what I gather: teaching him about nature, playing golf with him, teaching him the value of money, of saving up for things you desire, the importance of sport, and so on.

He also does like to have a little smoke of something relaxing in the evenings, when his son has gone to bed. And, he is not very well off...And in my dustbin, there still is about £20 worth of quite good smoky-relaxy-type stuff- as I explained to you a few days ago.

So there was the temptation: should I dig out my unrequited bounty for one who would really appreciate it, or should I stick to my guns and continue with the ongoing binning action?

I imagined that lovely guy, out of his head, and may be a fire, or an emergency or some such disaster type scenario...and I stuck to my guns! It was quite easy after all.

All the same, I shall be glad when the dustmen have collected my problem rubbish!

Love of the sober kind,

Jocelyne

I can't believe it: I've just remembered and it's soooo stupid!!!

What I was going to ask is:

Has anyone else noticed the similarity between:
a) the smell of (pure vegetable) coconut soap and
b) the smell of (clean) wet dog?

It hit me bizarely this morning...but then I do live a life of leisure and such iddle thoughts are a small price to pay!

Enjoy your day even more now that you have been made aware of THE olfactory coindence of the year!

Jocelyne

Une ou deux images (by default!)

"Sea horses swaying back and forth, looking wise, in a world of pink bubbles...

Same sea horses riding a sky-wide rainbow, for fun."


(And NO! I haven't touched the stuff!It's just that once again I have forgotten what I set out to write: no doubt it will return to this scatter brained mind...later!)

Have an inspired Sunday!
Love,

Jocelyne

When I said nothing much happens....

.....

Yesterday morning I received a Christmas card which was meant for my neighbours.

I also received another hand delivered mauve envelope addressed to a Ms X(name withheld). Upon opening the said missive, I discover a small package of medicinal herbs. My first reaction is one of sadness for Miss X who will be missing out on her therapeutic tisanes. I read the message accompanying the herbs, and phoned the company named on the notelet to try and return the medicine to its rightful owner as soon as possible...No John there! He left on the 1st of April! (Quite the joker, I thought!)

Then I did what I always do when life deals me an incomprehensible deal: I phoned Paul the Young and Wise.

I described the herbs:
" -They smell a bit like sage, but stronger.
-Like happiness in a bag? (Oops!)
-I wouldn't know. They look like flower and seed heads, a grey green colour, with bits of brown in it.
-A bit furry looking?
-Yep! Definitley furry looking on the leaf bits...
-What does it say on the note?"

Then I read what was on the note to Paul, and guess what? It was drug talk! Of course I didn't know! The last time I "did" drugs in this country, in any kind of illegal way was back in the early eighties, and the linguo was more transparent then, more of a throw back to the sixties!

So yep! In my letter box yesterday morning, I received a packet of supposedly, according to John, "not so good" skunk, but good enough to "sort out your lightweights"...Glad to hear it.

It is now resting in the dustbin, where it best belongs! May the vegetable peelings, used tissues and other discarded bits and bobs enjoy sorting out their lightweights.

I don't suppose John will come and claim his mis-delivered parcel...after all I may be a policewoman for all he knows!

And there I was, thinking that my life was in danger of getting dull!

No fear, man!

Have a good one!

Jocelyne

In a life where nothing much happens ...

..every little thing becomes worthy of note.

A new gate!
Extensive draught proofing of my (rented) house!
The promise of a brand new bath in replacement to this one which leaks...

I do have very fair landlords who take their responsibility seriously, plus, an excellent rapport with the builder who does all the work on their property: a definite boon! I call him Mister Hughes, and he calls me Jocelyne...and I help him to get up again when his old legs give way after he's been kneeling for too long. I show my appreciation of a job well done, and guess what: he's not used to that! It would seem that people moan more than they praise and complain rather than delight in successful outcomes...That's news to me! (Wink, wink...)

So yesterday was a good day on account of all theses little jobs getting done around my home!

And to-day I was teaching French, for the first time in about three years. I stood in for Nicolas's tutor, my friend Carolyne, who had an "empêchement". Hey! I really enjoyed the teaching, and even more the fact that I never have to do it again unless I really want to!

The redbreast robin has been round in the back garden, reminding me to feed him and his birdy-mates in this icy season. I will!

Don't go slipping on any ice (in our climate) or on any banana skin..(elsewhere)

Love always....
Jocelyne

There was something...?

I was upstairs, ironing away, when I thought of a brilliant idea for a post...Run downstairs to write it out, and...can't remember it at all!

Something else will no doubt occur.

Oh I remember! It was all about blogging (much as I dislike the word blogging, more on that later!)...- I was musing as to the playful aspects of the activity, the wit of comments, the easy contact with so many individuals, each of us a tiny sample of humankind. I was reminded of a French short story in which a small boy talks about the weather to the gardener tending the family estate. The moral of the story, innocuous as it is, was that no one REALLY cares that much about the weather most of the time, or about the way the marigolds are growing, but that these easy topics make for an unencumbered sharing of one's humanity...

And so it is for Paul's blogged question: which is your favourite vegetable? It does not really matter, does it? But it is fun, it is harmless, it may give rise to new shared, coded, criterial links in the inner circle of friends, and-notwithstanding the fact that a few of them are The Sorg's own replies, it has -so far-given rise to 23 comments! My goodness, 23 comments about your favourite vegetable: way to go!

My search is rather more precise. It is though, like casting a very thin line very far away, and I have little faith that it will bring in the desired bounty...But in true "grasping the nettle" fashion here it goes.

COULD WE FIND ANOTHER WORD TO REPLACE THE WORD "BLOGGING"...

or am I the only only one whose linguistic sensitivity it offends?

Mind you I also resent "Ciao", so there's no accounting for my linguistic quirks.

If you feel so moved, please to(sic) tell me your opinion on this vexed topic?

I would be as grateful as a plateful of grated carrot.

May you have many happy thoughts!

Jocelyne

More gratitude!

Paul has installed a counter on my blog...to stop me being paranoid! Nice of him I thought....He also put a few links to a few blogs, so I can repay the compliment to those who kindly link me into theirs....(Sorry for the delay, by the way: I still haven't a clue how it is done! So any body I missed out...please let Paul know on http://isthisagoodidea.blogspot.com/Here endeth the linking knowledge)

Went to the cinema to see the biopic of Boby Darin's life with Kevin Spacey, and I understood the plot, and enjoyed the film. (May be I'll write more about it at a later date...) But then, my friend Danièle came round, and we both watched a French film called "Les Passeurs" about men and women who risked their own life helping others cross the border into Switzerland over the mountains during the 2nd world war. My grand-dad had been a "passeur" in the Jura, and Danièle's dad had escaped from PoW camp and crossed France on foot to end up in a "neutral"camp in Switzerland -which he also escaped from in order to join the Maquis.
So you would think we had enough interest in, and knowledge of, the subject matter of the film to understand the plot? Not a bit of it. Fortunately our blind spots not being the same we managed to unravel some of the major themes and fill each other in at times. We also had the luxury of being able to rewind the video to see what vital clues we both missed. So although the film was definitely not meant to be a comedy, we had a lot of fun watching it.

When you get to a certain age, mind you, you don't have anything to prove.For people like me, who don't "quite" get plots, I therefore thoroughly recommend watching films in the company of:
a)eccentric friends of a certain age who don't understand any better than you do, and don't get flustered about it,
or b)serious minded youngsters who can and will earnestly explain any plot down to the finest details.

I like films, whether I understand them or not, anyway!

Good night all,

Jocelyne

My! What a Life I have had... so far....already!

Re-reading this last post made me aware -once more- of the truly amazing life I have led. Dysfunction served me well! I suffered, sure, but in exchange, I savoured so much, experienced so much. I have walked in circles, lost on top of Inyangani in the African mist, and I have meditated close to God in India.

I hear musics from anywhere, and they are mine, vibrating with their resonance in my heart. I meet friends from the world over and my love for them is unbounded, unimpaired by differences.

A friend was explaining to me that her courage in life has always come at times when her back was to the wall. She is quite a timid soul, yet conquered her fears and created a life for herself ,from nothing, in her early middle age years.

I am sure my zest for life comes from the beatings, the punishments, the ill-health, the abuse, the lack of understanding I endured for many many years. It is as though, the more "they" tried to repress me, the more irrepressible I became. And now, whatever the objective circumstances of my life may be, I decide that I AM happy. Adversity has been the very best training ground for excellence... That, AND three years'worth of sessions with the best therapist in the world, of course!
Ok, 'nuff said on the navel contemplating front...

Have yourselves a marvelous day: I will! Paul is "taking" his old mum to the movies; I am going to enjoy the company and the luxury of being driven in his car....

Love, Jocelyne

Here's a choice for you!

Either:
a) go upstairs, irons bed linen (yep!), vacuum floor in bedroom (following extensive diy of putting chair together yesterday), tidy bits and pieces of every day life....

or:
b) get on the internet here and think of something to write that may be of interest to others.

Ah Ah, challenging choice, no?

For the moment I seem to have picked the "b" option...Let's see where that takes us...

Pretty much always to the same places: how marvelous flowers look, how grateful I am for the many wonderful friends I have (that includes my son, Paul)and for being a happy soul; how tricky it is to think outside one's own box, outside of one's own patterns...

Tell me! Is is even desirable to think outside one's own patterns? Reading other folks'blogs on a regular basis -definitely more regular than my writing, I feel that there is something reassuring in the affirmation of each one's personality, interests, style, expertise even. This mode of communication, over time does build an exquisitely accurate portrait of its authors. (I must have intuitively felt that, when I wrote my own introduction: "the Blog will reveal the person...") I'm even proud of the fact that my Blog can never be a candidate for the hall of technical fame...since the most thing I can do is put a link to an internet address! I think the plain, uncluttered style fits well with my own aspirations to simplicity.

I was reminded recently of a real landscape I visited once with Mike, my once husband and now close friend. He was asking me if I remembered? The facts of memory are a wonder: I did! On the south coast of England, not far from Plymouth, there is a coastal road, above the cliffs, which at one point gets separated from the coast by a large wheat field. His father had once shown him the way down to the sea from there. We parked the car and crossed the wheat field. Above us as we crossed the field, a massive bird of prey was hovering, hovering, hovering, until it swooped, right in front of us -probably after a vole or a field mouse...We watched it for what seemed ages doing its bird-of-prey-y things...Then, there was a wooded lane going steeply down to the sea.Muddy, slippery. A rickety house clinging by the skin of its stones to the slope, abandoned. I remember playing the vulnerable delicate flower woman and winging about how steep the slope was, how I was never going to be able to get back up...what a pain I was then! Anyway the point is I do remember. And the unspoiled, secret beach at the bottom of the lane. Stripping and jumping in the sea like children. A cormorant wings stretched full out on a rock, drying its feathers. Mike teaching me to use binoculars properly. A feeling of eternity...

He is coming to visit England soon, from Malawi, and will be trying to buy that house for his children, if it hasn't fallen into the sea that is! From there, they will have a clear view across a bay, over the mighty sea and the infinite skies...Good luck Mimi!

Jocelyne

Words and rivers

I write a lot. I don't always write here. I write in French a lot. I don't think here is the place for French writing (although see what happens later here....!?)Language as a tool for thought. Thoughts molded by the language of their expression. I suppose ideally, if you wanted to be able to think all thoughts, you would have to learn all languages. and invent some. How to translate the Hindi JI...mark of respect, recognition of the value of the other person? How to juggle from baisers, to bisous, to bises, poutous with the English rigidity and harshness of the K of Kiss and of pecK? How to play the nuance between love and like in the lone aimer? Mix them all is what I say! Use what words you want, when you want, regardless of your interlocuteur...OK perhaps pas! There already exists too much difficulty in being truly understood, so let's not make matters worse. Each language does admirably what it does well and it's the job of those genius translators to provide the closest fit or feel...

Sometimes I wish I was a translator...but then again too much scrutiny does not suit my free spirit. Best to just free-flow and write my own stuff such as it is.

Here is a poem called

Labour of love: our words

Green and ochre butterflies on a background of seaspray,
Rivulets of rain on the parched earth of Summer,
Iliad and Odyssey of our love,
Precious weaving: safety net of the union of souls.

Labour of love: nos paroles

Papillons verts et ocre sur fond d'écume de mer.
Rigoles de pluie dans la terre sèche d'un été.
Illiade et Odissée de notre amour.
Tissage précieux: filet salvateur de l'union d'âmes.
----------------------------------------------
(Isn't it just soooo much better in French) (soooorryyyyy!)

Otherwise.....It was fun and frustrating to put together my new Ikea upholstered bedroom chair: complete with sprung seat..yippee! and screws that didn't quite fit!

It was fun and frustrating not to know which perfect sofa would fit my perfectly too small sitting room....

AND it is now getting too cold for me to go out: scary time! I can't breathe in sub 5 centigrade temperatures and my diesel car doesn't "do" instant heat...ah well Provence here I come. Or else stay at home and hole up for the Winter months.

Sorry if I am a bit dull to-night, I wanted to post something, just to keep in touch.

Love always,

Jocelyne