That chasm of contemplation

Gloomy sky. The end of a holiday. 

A tinge of sadness. Time went so fast. 

It has been a week of simplicity. Everything paired back. Bare feet. Cold showers. Minimal clothes. 

Learning to ride a much smaller surfboard. The curve is steep. After a 9-foot mal, now on a 6”10” rocket. Oh my, the speed. The agility. The pangs of delight and terror, co-mingled. Hours a day spent learning, listening, feeling, with many dolphin encounters, including this morning being surrounded and having my dolphin companions show me how easy it is to ride waves. 

Dolphins demonstrate play, again and again.

Reading Amitav Ghosh’s, The Nutmeg Curse, followed by a re-read of one of my favourite books through time, Peter Kingsley, A Story Waiting to Piece You. Both combined provide a chasm of contemplation that I have yet to find the bottom, if indeed I ever will.

In short, history, as told to me, unravelled, shredded. Even the origins of Western thought and philosophy axed out. Meaning my identity needs to be recalibrated. This is a good thing.

Contemplating the male domination of philosophy through time, even in the East, I wonder how the world might be different if the spine of our belief systems were represented in the Yin and Yang. Is it not time now? Is it not time that those wise men of today refuse to speak unless they are counterbalanced by those wise women?  Surely this is as crucial an element of change for a world with a future for Earth and all her creatures as any other single activity?

The world turns. That chasm of contemplation is wide. Fleetwood Mac is now singing Dreams, the background song to my contemplation – 


Now here you go again

You say you want your freedom

Well, who am I to keep you down?

It’s only right that you should

Play the way you feel it

But listen carefully to the sound

Of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat… drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost…

And what you had…

And what you lost

Thunder only happens when it’s raining

Players only love you when they’re playing

Say… Women… they will come and they will go

When the rain washes you clean… you’ll know, you’ll know

Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions

I keep my visions to myself

It’s only me

Who wants to wrap around your dreams and…

Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?

Dreams of loneliness…

Like a heartbeat… drives you mad…

In the stillness of remembering what you had…

And what you lost…

And what you had…

And what you lost


In the stillness, remember what you had, and what you lost. 

A week away, and I am different. Oh joy, this is to be alive!