And the craic was good (Van Morrison)

Glastonbury Tor in Somerset

Wie geht's?

A colleague recently posted about early morning rituals and routines. I don't see a distinction between the two myself but there you are. 

One of mine is to read each day's entry in Hsing Yun's 365 days of wisdom.

Today it said: being without worry is the best form of happiness; excessive desire is the greatest suffering.

Ironically, my desire is wanting to be a pilgrim; so much it hurts. I've conquered a few of the Beatle related pilgrimages (New Zealand to Abbey Road - tick) but a few,  more spiritual ones, remain slightly out of reach.

Heading off to live in England soon should help get over the tyranny of distance (Nu Zild is soooooo looooong away from anything).

For what it's worth, here's my want-to-do pilgrimage list:

The Camino de Santiago (a.k.a. The Way of Saint James)

Glastonbury Tor to Stonehenge

Wye to Canterbury

The Rydal Water Walk (a.k.a. the Wordsworth walk) in the Lake District

Downpatrick to Coney Island (as outlined in the Van Morrison song)

This last one was added following a reminder via Thom Hickey's wonderful blogpost on Van's song.

Watching this and especially listening to Van's delivery makes me yearn to get started!

Love and peace - Wozza

Gracious openings lie (William Wordsworth)

Last week was a tough week - not only for the stress of flying over 11,000 km to get to NZ (some of it in the company of mad aussies going to Auckland for the Wallabies/Irish clash) and then back - but it was also the second anniversary of dad's passing on September 21, 2009.

Two years is a blip in a historical context - not even a fraction of a blip, but two years without a parent to advise you, console you, encourage you, admonish you, counsel you is a long time. At least it has been for me.

The parent-child relationship is a special one and very different to other relationships. Jacky and I share worries, successes and failures and we lean and support on each other as other couples do.

Never-the-less - I miss the opportunity to have a conversation with my parents, to share a worry, or celebrate a minor success, to lean on someone who has known me all my life. And it's actually more selfish than that - just knowing he was there was all I really needed. Now for two years he's not been there and that particular need has gone unfulfilled. I believe it's called a void.

I realise that I needed to get away from my old self and old life in NZ after he passed away in 2009. I needed to shed a skin. Now I realise that I am getting myself ready to shed another skin and I am preparing myself for a new life back in NZ with Jacky.

As I wrote in the previous post I loved watching Rob Brydon in The Trip. During the trip he quotes from Wordsworth's poem White Doe of Rylstone when they visit Bolton Abbey. It's a poem about grief that seems eerily applicable to me:

Action is transitory--a step, a blow,
The motion of a muscle--this way or that--
'Tis done; and in the after-vacancy
We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed:
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
And has the nature of infinity.
Yet through that darkness (infinite though it seem
And irremoveable) gracious openings lie,
By which the soul--with patient steps of thought
Now toiling, waked now on wings of prayer--
May pass in hope, and, though from mortal bonds
Yet undelivered, rise with sure ascent
Even to the fountain-head of peace divine."

Love and peace indeed - Warren