The Passing Years, and How to Count Them

My posts are usually about ‘the past’ and in this lovely reflection from the “Empty Nest, Full Life” blog site (one of my favourites), there are some thoughts about how we hold and honour the past experiences in our own lives. I thought you might appreciate it as much as I did so I’m reblogging it, with thanks to the author ‘Momshieb’.

Empty Nest, Full Life

My family is enormously lucky because we live in a place that is green, and beautiful. Our house is surrounded by trees.

We’ve been in this house for 30 years. That seems so hard to believe. My husband Paul and I raised our three kids here. We’ve had two cats and five dogs at different times in this house.

Parts of the yard have been, at various times over the years, a baseball diamond, a hockey rink, a vegetable garden, a flower bed, a strawberry patch and a place to put the swings.

Now the kids are all grown up and on their own, and it’s time for us to start looking forward. In another ten or so years, we plan to sell this house and move someplace with less upkeep. It’s time.

With that thought in mind, we’re hiring someone to help clean up this huge yard and make…

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Every Wind (with recording)

Not medieval, just something beautiful from poet Robert Okaji that I thought some of you might like.

O at the Edges


Every Wind

Every wind loses itself,
no matter where

it starts. I want
a little piece of you.

No.

I want your atmosphere
bundled in a small rice paper packet
and labeled with strings of new rain
and stepping stones.

I want
the grace of silence
blowing in through the cracked
window, disturbing only
the shadows.

Everywhere I go, bits of me linger,
searching for you.

Grief ages one thread at a time,

lurking like an odor
among the lost
things,

or your breath,
still out there,

drifting.

* * *

Music: “Gymnopedie No. 1” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

“Every Wind” first appeared in The Lake in July 2016, and is included in my chapbook, From Every Moment a Second, available for order via Amazon.com and Finishing Line Press.

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Facing the Earth

Humility – take a bow. The words ‘humility’ and ‘humble’ both come from the Latin, ‘humilis’ meaning ‘on the ground’. In this lovely post about gardening, and the way that it calls our attention to the earth, the author, Audrey Driscoll, captures something of the way in which humility and reverence are bound together. And, as gardening is just as vital now as it has always been, I thought you would enjoy Audrey’s post.

Audrey Driscoll's Blog

Looking down is looked down upon, isn’t it? Happy, healthy people are supposed to stand tall and look toward the horizon. “Looking up” is a way of saying things are improving. A “downer” is a disappointment.

But gardeners, even the most optimistic ones, are almost always looking down.

If I ever become incapable of bending over, my gardening days will be over. Except in specially designed gardens for the disabled, it’s impossible to garden in an upright position or while seated.

Sometimes I’m appalled by how much of my time in the garden is spent in a bent-over position. I’ve even wondered if it’s harmful. (I suspect it makes face wrinkles worse. Gravity, you know.) On the other hand, I don’t have any back problems. Maybe I’ve naturally used the correct technique for bending over, called the “hip-hinge.”

Woman wearing hat working in plant nursery in a bent over position
Bending from the hips makes it possible to hold this position while…

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WeAreTheWorldBlogfest: A Good News Bushfire Story

My overseas readers may not know that the east coast of Australia has been experiencing unprecedented bush fires from the beginning of Spring. This story about the resilience of our koalas (and other fauna) is a positive one in the midst of so many negatives and I thank Kate (lighttravellerkate.blog for sharing this story so that, in turn, I can share it with you

lightravellerkate

Over 50 bushfires have been burning for the past three weeks along thecoast from Sydney tothe north of Noosa in Queensland.The news has been consistently stark and depressing to read and watch. People have lost their lives, homes, livelihoods. The devestation to the wildlife population is extreme and especially impacting the Koala habitat around Port Macquqrie.

So here’s a good news story about the resilience of our fauna and the wonderful humans of the Port Macquarie Koala Hospital who care for them

Koala and joey rescued from the Queensland bushfires to be released into the wild

Updated

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The journey to my Journey

I always think that the main reason I am so interested in the Middle Ages is that it is like taking a journey to somewhere very different, and full of surprises – good and bad – to see what I can learn about myself and others now. For me, this post from lightravellerkate’s blog mirrors this idea of journeying into the unknown for a reason that will become apparent during the journey; and I thought some of you might enjoy reading about this.

lightravellerkate

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Lao Tzu

I booked the return ticket seven months ago; ihad been only four months before then that I had decided to go.

To China.

It had been a background dream for many years, my appetite whetted even moreso when I studied Chinese medicine and philosophy during a period of change in my life. I’ve always been fascinated by this ancient civilsation which gave form to so many ideas, structures, beliefs, philosophies and ways of being in the world.

“Silence is a source of Great Strength.”

Lao Tzu

And of course, having decided to travel, I wanted to do it my wa, choosing where I wanted to go rather than submit to a group tour. I now realise that that decision was quite ambitious.

Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos. Before a…

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Seeing Green: A Philadelphia Story

In addition to being a good read, this post represents a practical exercise in mindfulness and observation, I think. It’s inspired me to think about the many meanings of the colour Green in medieval times – the topic for my next post. Thanks Neil.

Yeah, Another Blogger

Last Saturday, one day prior to St. Patrick’s Day, I was itching to stretch my legs. The skies were clear, the temperature tolerable, and my schedule was open. A walk was in order. Where, though? My ultra-hilly suburban neighborhood? Nah. I’d made the rounds there on foot a few days earlier, huffing and puffing my ass off as I scaled the slopes. Yo, there’s a limit to the number of hills this old boy is going to attempt to conquer during any given week, you dig?

Anyway, I was in the mood for some liveliness. And because my area is not blessed with lively as its middle name, I decided to do what I’ve done a ton of times before: Board a train in my little town and allow it to transport me to the mostly flat City Of Brotherly Love. I stepped into the choo-choo at about 10:40 AM…

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The luckless church

I really enjoyed and appreciated the (historical) details of the church in Elton, and I thought that some of my followers might enjoy it too.

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

There is never enough time to explore everything on our travels. There are always intriguing buildings, signs and churches that we say we really must explore at some point… and never get the chance to see. So, if I get the chance at any point, I will try to rectify that. One grey day between Christmas and New Year, when I had a little time to spare, I took the car out to explore some of the lanes and villages that criss-cross ‘our’ patch in Derbyshire.

The village of Elton is one we have driven through on more occasions than we could count. We have passed through there every time we have visited the prehistoric landscape around Robin Hood’s Stride, Cratcliffe Tor and the Nine Stones Close stone circle…and we had never stopped to explore. Yet, Elton is an old village, mentioned in the Domesday Book of 1086…

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Less Holy Than Thou

Vincent at rochereau.wordpress.com has written this wonderful post on Margery Kempe, a fascinating women who has featured in a couple of my posts over the years.

a wayfarer’s notes

Margery Kempe was a bloody-minded woman, living in a time when England was still Catholic. Bishops, priests and friars held worldly and spiritual power.

bloody-minded: Chiefly Brit. Perverse, contrary; cantankerous; stubbornly intransigent or obstructive. Cf. bloody adj. OED

She came from the provinces, had no education and bore 14 children to a husband socially beneath her. I feel for the poor man—read on and see.

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“This Creature”: 40 Years of Margery Kempe

I’ve written about Margery Kempe before in this blog (https://carmelbendon.com/2018/09/04/yes-power-2/ ) and I’m really pleased to be able to reblog this post on Margery from one of the world’s “Margery Kempe experts”, Clarissa Atkinson. Her book, “Mystic and Pilgrim: The Book and the World of Margery Kempe” was ground-breaking at its time of release, and remains essential reading for students of Margery. By the way, Margery Kempe was, in part, the inspiration for the modern-day character, Sister Margery Plimsoll, in my novel “Grasping at Water”.

The Oldest Vocation

In the mid-1970s, casting about for a dissertation topic, I stumbled over Margery Kempe. In those days you had to stumble over her – she did not appear in the syllabus of any course in medieval studies, nor did she haunt the ether. (Not that we would have known if she had.) Students of medieval Christianity had probably heard of Margery, but very vaguely, with few specifics about her life or work. She was a mystic, sort of, but her book was not read along with Julian’s Revelations or The Cloud of Unknowing. It was not assigned.

sculpture crop Frontispiece to my book: Mystic and Pilgrim: The Book and the World of Margery Kempe (Cornell University Press, 1983)

Margery Kempe was an English woman of the late 14th, early 15th centuries who “wrote” a kind of memoir – dictated it, really, as she couldn’t read or write. It was…

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Book review: Grasping at Water by Carmel Bendon

A bit of a departure from my usual ‘contemporary mixed with the medieval’ style of post, but as it is a very thoughtful review of my new book ‘Grasping at Water’ (which is ‘contemporary mixed with the medieval’) I just wanted to share it with you.

Isobel blackthorn

I do enjoy reading novels with strong mystical content. Especially when, as is the case with Grasping at Water, the author has profound knowledge of her subject.

About Grasping at Water

When a young, unidentified woman is pulled alive and well from Sydney Harbour in 2013, the connections to another woman – found in similar circumstances forty years earlier – present psychiatrist Kathryn Brookley with a terrible decision as the events of the present and past begin to mirror each other and the gap between truth and illusion shrinks.

When the young woman goes further and declares that she has lived continuously since coming to ‘understanding’ in the 14th century, her vivid accounts of life, love, childbirth, and loss in the Middle Ages seem so authentic that they test Kathryn’s scientific objectivity to the limit. As Kathryn delves she discovers that she is not the only one whose habitual…

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