Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

The days pass by with a kind of lethargy and peace. The week between Christmas and New Year is the time of the lotus eaters. Or over eaters. We spend the days in a limbo of not knowing the date nor time of things. And yet, it is supposed to be the most spiritual time of the year, the time when we get the best of the spiritual sun as it is purified by the matter of the Earth. Most people spend the days slowly going through the gorging of the Christmas dinner. It is supposed to be a time of conviviality and friendship. However, it always has a halo of sadness, the way it never did for me in Singapore or Chinese New Year which is the close equivalent. I don't know why this is. The bitterness and disappointment is keenly felt, like painful bones over thinned skin. It is horrible. The anticipation and the disappointed expectation all combine to make this holiday one of the saddest in the year. It should not be. People seem to have forgotten who they are and end up piling on the unnecess...

  So we finally went Christmas shopping. I had promised Oisin a suit for Christmas. I said I would spend up to £400 on it. I good suit Oisin. You will need one. I think a suit that makes you look smart and gives you confidence. So we decided to go shopping in SD Kells yesterday. A menswear place which sold beautiful suits. Off the peg by still looked great. Well cut. A huge variety. A not too expensive. Just nice.  To a man his suit is his armour. So we entered the world of men's fashion. Oisin and Ghin have been blessed with beauty. And spirit. It does not come from their genetic inheritance, although it has a part of play. It comes from being in a Steiner school, I am almost certain of that. The freedom with which they grew up with, and the riot act reading I have done at home, a life of just enough sweet and sour, has given them a glow which is lovely. Oisin however has inherited by ability to say rude and mean things in the hope it is taken as funny. I can see why I was so...

It was so lovely just sitting there, drinking my wine and watching them cook. They made my death row meal of Caesar salad, Seafood Chowder and Lemon Meringue Pie. I had a choice of watching TV or watching them cook. It is two hours I will remember for the rest of my life. They had done the shop, got my present and I got them at 6. They then proceeded to make the dinner and I just helped out and conversed with happiness. It has to be, in a life of having wonderful things done for me, the most wonderful thing done for me. I was touched beyond measure. After that was the frenetic planning and cooking of the solstice meal. I loved it. I made chocolate first thing in the morning and it split, infuriatingly. However every year and deal with split chocolate. This was taking a little longer. Every year the solution is different. One year it was more brandy. Another year it was more cocoa. This year nothing I did worked. So I just let it cool and then used a handblender. That worked. After that...

  There is a kind of honour in being 50. It is this sense of having survived. I feel really proud. Really proud that I have come this far - just by sheer dint of living to this age, AND also of never having compromised. Well, a bit compromised, but always on my own terms. I was looking at the boys as they cooked for me and there was a great sense of delight and pampering. I have made it this far. Life has been so kind, so good to me. I have asked and always, always received. I could not have wanted for more. And then during the solstice and birthday celebrations, we gathered to give thanks, to bring happiness and forgiveness into our lives. To bring gratitude and acknowledgement. To say thank you, sit back and appreciate. There is so much to be grateful for. After the storms we have come home. We have arrived.  The past year so much has happened. There has been the courage to finally let go. To say, well this didn't work. I did my bloody best and it so did not happen. And then...

Well I always thought I would not be in Norn Iron when I had my 50th birthday. For my 40th I was delayed because of the snow now it is the Covid. 2020. Fuck 2020. And the fear and stupidity. I really hope that people stand up and say they aren't taking this anymore. Yesterday I sat in the kitchen while the boys prepared my death row meal: caesar salad, sewfood chowder and lemon meringue pie. It was the perfect prefect meal. The BEST of any of these three dishes I had never eaten. My wonderful sons. We just have the bestest times together. I get them from MacDonalds and we just laughed and laughed all the way home. Back home we got our things together and they told me to get out of the kitchen. But I said, look here, I would just love to sit here and watch to two of you cook. Which is what I did. They meticulously got the ingredients together and read the instructions and made food which I personally never made because no one else would it is, but here they were, making dishes for m...

Sangita sees another Scryer on her way to the Spinning Room. Scryers develop a sense, to be able to communicated with speaking. They do not communicate in words, but images. Pictures are their currency. They have developed ideograms to convey meaning. The Hello greeting is a joyful seated man with his hand raised for greeting,  𓀊,  if someone is greeting a person in a senior rank, this is the hieroglyph  𓀓.   In this way the Scryers had invented a complicated and quite arcane language which they learned since they were children, and only they were allowed to use it.   Greetings sister, Sangita throws to the younger Scryer. Greetings older sister, Albeda replies. They bow, but Albeda bows a little deeper. May the Gods' loves follow you and blessings be received, says Sangita to Albeda. As the elder Scryer she imparts a blessing. The place of younger to the older is reverence and the place of the older to the younger is blessing. It has always been the...

So, here we go, the last two entries to catch up with the entire year. There is less than ten days left to it. In many ways, there is nothing left to say. As Horataio says, the Rest Is Silence. And silence it is indeed. It is a very VERY quiet time of year now. The pendulum slowing down, the door at its narrowest. I spoke to my mom there, she was recalling how they were living in my grandmother's house when her waters broke. She was rushed to hospital and the next day my aunt, her eldest sister, brought her two poached eggs and some bread. There are the tender moments we share with the incarnation of those we love.  It is the fourth light of Advent, the Light of Humankind, when we are filled with the spiritual Sun. The light from the entire Earth, spiritualised by its passage through the thin veneer of matter, now alights upon us. Purified by this wondrous planet. We receive the delight of the world. We are floating in space, but also held at the very centre of the cosmos. I think ...