#321 - Hurtling

We are all hurtling, rushing and spinning at about 1000 miles per hour - that's the rotation. Then we are orbiting at 67,000 miles per hour around the sun and the sun itself is going 800,000 kilometres per hour. It is pretty incredible.

Yesterday as we were driving, Ghin said I still can't believe that human beings exist. What is making me think these thoughts? Where is that coming from? My brain? Where? I said, well the spirit is invisible. We can't see it. We have a spiritual body which connects us to everything. It's just crazy he said. Just talking to him makes me realise that he is such an incredible kid. He carries a terrible wound too, the failure of my relationship with Peter, but I try to make that wound as small as possible. As easy as possible.

I hope that the fracture of this relationship will slowly heal for the both of us. But also leave him with as little a scar as possible. That is all we can hope for.

Having washed cleaned and organised the house yesterday I feel cleansed. I'm listening to Ghosteen by Nick Cave. It is the third album in which he unloads his grief - the grief for his deceased son. Things we assume about ourselves and then they are no longer there. Like my children will always be here. Never. I have never ever said that about my children. I have never ever taken them for granted. Never assumed anything. Always made sure that I would be there even if they did not know I was there. Always. I would always be there for them.

We are heading towards a strange world. A world in which people are so frightened and fed up they will do anything they are asked to do. To think that this is what globalism has brought us. Instead of us coming together, we have ended up at each other's throats. And it only took us twenty years since the implementation of the WTO rules. The destruction of society. The ultimate expression of neoliberalism. It's ok. Nature has stepped in, or has she? This is the thing. I'm not sure what the upshot of all this is. Will it just be the final pause before the self destruct button is pressed? I don't want it to return to business as usual. It needs to become something far far better.

Although sitting in Ballyquintin yesterday, seeing the sun slice low over the horizon, the light so pure, a purity which I have ever seen before, or failed to see before, the silence, the blackbird, the rag tree, the hawthorn, the clear stream... and the serene horizons... here is everything we can hope for. Here is everything we need. 

Some beauty and some infinity, some pondering of the light and the feeling of wonder and contentment at the same time. This album is Nick Cave cutting himself and hoping that some of that blood gives birth to something. Searching and searching and never finding. Calling and calling, like the curlew, over the earth for her children.