There is a poignant beauty to this display of red poppies – especially against the grey Yorkshire sky and dark stone. It is to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Passchendaele.
In 1917 our village Menston was quite small, but a high percentage of its young men died fighting in the First World War – especially this particular battle.
A hundred years ago is another lifetime. But when I turned 40, it went through my mind that conscription was often for men under 40 years of age.
We are fortunate to live in the absence of war, but I also remember Sri Chinmoy’s aphorism.
“Peace does not mean the absence of war.
Peace means the presence of harmony, love, satisfaction and oneness.”
First flowers of the year. Spring crocus popping up from my newly laid Cotswold gravel.
Time is flying by at the moment. Not much time for photography or even writing. But, the exciting news is that traffic at Tejvan.co.uk has doubled from 20 people a day to 40 page views per day on account of ranking for “Shakespeare Jokes.” …
When I went to Oxford University, I remember a professor handing back an essay with a mark B+. He added the comment – “Very good, but it would have been an A – if you had given even the briefest attention to correct grammar and spelling”. I remember being very happy to get a B+ from Oxford. That was good enough for me!
Since, almost by accident, I have become a ‘professional blogger’ / ‘professional writer’, I am endeavouring to improve this aspect of writing, and over the years have learnt to enjoy this aspect of writing more. (1)
I did intend to write an article here, but it made more sense to share at my Cycling Blog, for my long-suffering cycling readers.
Last year (2016), I spent a lot of time reading the news. I also felt I was wasting my time – just getting frustrated with things out of my control. In Greece, I took a break from news, and surprised myself that I kicked the habit almost completely. In summary, the news embargo gave a feeling of great joy and freedom – and perhaps it was a little easier to meditate too. I wrote an article at Write Spirit about spending less time online.
Back in Britain, I have somewhat slipped from the purity of this ‘ignorance is bliss‘ motto, and always seem to come across the days headlines. Although I have a general knowledge of what’s going on, I do tend to stay well clear of online news, with its capacity to suck you in. Occasionally, I have taken a weekly print newspaper which gives a summary of last week’s news. One thing I noticed about taking a break from the news – is that afterwards – you feel you have less appetite for it. When staying with my parents, I just couldn’t eat a meal and have the six ‘o clock news on at the same time – it gives me ingestion. To be fair, after an unorthodox life of meditation, vegetarianism, intense cycling and alcohol abstention – they took my ‘dislike of news whilst eating’ in their stride. …
I spent Christmas partly thinking about the long journey from Oxford to a resort in Greece. Over 15 hours of traveling gives many possibilities of things to go wrong. But, by the time I reached the hotel late in the evening, I already felt the old thought-patterns of last year fading away. Perhaps this is why my spiritual teacher Sri Chinmoy valued travel so much – the potential for newness and escaping the rut of the mind.
Ruins of Olympia
The next day, 95% of my friends went on a day trip to Sparta – a legendary historic site. I’m not a great tourist, easily becoming tired from looking at old rocks, so I stayed in the near empty hotel – with perhaps a nagging feeling it may have been more fun to go with the crowd.
On my own, I wandered into the nearby town. It was the off-season with a sense of the eerily quiet; shops and cafes in winter limbo, waiting for the sun-seeking tourists to return. Walking rather aimlessly up a long street, I was looking for a good cafe to imbibe the culture, atmosphere and coffee of the Mediterranean. When I saw a sign for ‘Joy Cafe’ I took this is an auspicious sign and went in without further evaluation.
The truth is that this ‘Joy Cafe’ was anything but. Dark, dingy, dodgy music and coffee that might have been served in Manchester circa 1953. Just when things couldn’t get any worse, the owner came and sat down next to me to smoke a cigarette, an unwelcome reminder of the days in England when smoking was permitted in public places.
Ironically, I had hoped a visit to a cafe might inspire a new writing inspiration. But, sometimes you have to quit whilst you’re behind, so I downed the weak coffee, closed the writing pad and trundled back to the hotel. But, even that was not straight forward – a pointless walk in the wrong direction, before a u-turn to see the ‘Joy Cafe’ for the third time of the day.
The reason I bother to write about such a negligible tale of woe is that it had every outer cause to make me a little frustrated and depressed, and in former years, that may have been exactly how I felt. But, I didn’t really mind; I just looked forward to the next meditation. Looking back it has a certain humour.
When I was young, I remember going to visit Paris. After months of excited expectation and planning, I became miserable when I finally arrived. It wasn’t the magic I hoped for. It was just a city of buildings like anywhere else.
Travel can be a catalyst for change, but it is only part of the story.
(*) Did you hear about the dog which took up meditation?
On BBC Plant Earth II, they had a remarkable feature on “Gardens by the Bay” in Singapore. It was a futuristic design of a modern city – with a twist. Usually when we think futuristic cities, we think of metal and silver, but this was a vertical forest of vegetation and trees.
It is a visual feast and also a haven for wildlife. It stands in the heart of Singapore – skyscrapers of vegetation, next to the more conventional skyscrapers. …
In the past few weeks, I have been ill and often house bound. I’ve spent a bit of time looking through selected art books at those artists who inspire me. My range of appreciation is relatively narrow. At least after the start of the Twentieth Century, it becomes (according to my taste) harder to find art with real soul.
Nevertheless, it gave me the inspiration to try my hand at painting. It is not false modesty to say this is one subject where I have no talent or even what you might call capacity. The only thing I remember from art class, is the ability to draw a straight line without a ruler. I’ve learnt this only takes you so far, if you aspire to be an artist.
Lacking any technical capacity or artistic inspiration, I started off with basic imitation. It would be a fair assessment to say my Mona Lisa looked more like Edvard Munch’s the Scream, than an illuminating creation. …
Today was Burrington Combe hill climb. It is a two mile hill climb, averaging 6%. I first rode the race back in 2004 – it was one of my first cycle races. I like this photo taken by Dave Johnson. …
So I will make a belated resolution. To spend less time reading rubbish on the internet. I wrote an article here: managing life with internet.
As an economist, I often read articles on economics at papers like the Guardian and Independent. In one sense they are free, but the cost is that your eyes often get drawn to reading the useless comments at the bottom of the articles. In the old days, these comments were more carefully thought about, selected and the best published as letters to the editor. – And I rarely read letters to the editor, because they weren’t very good anyway. So why have I spent time reading things that only give a mild sense of frustration?
