New Poem

I've just posted a freshly minted poem, SPIKE, on my "Archive Mined & Freshly Spun" poetry weblog.

If blogger will allow me in, as it seems to be working once more, I may post it on 'Mal's Factory' too.

Recently Unearthed & Newly Created

I just recently unearthed this oil painting of mine, BEAT POET & FLOWERS, when sorting through a few neglected portfolio cases. It was painted in 1967.





This is an image of my most recent watercolour painting, MARKING TIME, which I completed a couple of days ago!

Time on Mal's Hands

My latest blog posting, SHORT DAYS AND LONG HOURS, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

LISTENING

It’s more difficult than you’d imagine to listen to one’s body. When things are going well, as has been the case for the past few months, with a paucity of trigger alarm signals, one becomes blissfully unaware of their own limitations. Managing a bit more here, and a bit more there, the extra effort seemed as if there were no toll to pay; the boundaries of my physical and mental effort have extended dramatically, way beyond what would have been my wildest dream during most hours, days, weeks and months from late 2003 to early 2009.

One takes the occasional trivial setback in their stride so, it came as something of a shock, this morning, when my head, torso and limbs were all suffering from several of the symptoms and sensations that so frequently blighted my being during that earlier period. Thankfully, they were only present as a pale reflection of their former intensity; even that was sufficient to prevent me continuing a leisurely stroll, on which I’d embarked mid-morning, to ‘Open Church’. That’s when I realized that I’d been losing the knack of ‘listening’ to my body, overdoing things a bit in my complacency. It’s almost as if I’d become too positive in my outlook; mind you, if positive thoughts had been a “cure” for ME-CFS I wouldn’t have ever succumbed in the first place.

So, it has been a lazy day for me, enhanced by listening to a new CD, ‘Tortured Soul’ by Danelle Harvey; the lady in turn rocks, grooves and tenderly coaxes her own words into life in these songs. Although the title of the album, and indeed the subject matter of some of the songs, could lead one to expect a ‘downer’, it’s the artist’s vitality and resilience that shines through.

Not only have I been taking stock, renewing my vigilance, when it comes to listening to my own body, I’ve also had the pleasure of listening to an inspiring singer / songwriter.

The Garden Blooms on 'Mal's Picturebox'

Three new close-up photos, 'THE GARDEN BLOOMS', can be found on 'Mal's Picturebox'.

Garden Matters

Yesterday evening I prepared a couple of web albums with pictures of our garden but, unfortunately, encountered a few problems when I attempted to upload them to add to our Luv4Sinners website (paintings, poetry, personal), recently transferred by Webring from our soon to be defunct Geocities website.

Having spent several hours pottering about in the garden, both this morning and afternoon, with frequent intervals simply idling on one of the garden seats. I thought it was time to do something with these albums. This evening I prepared a welcome page, to accompany the albums, and uploaded them to a new free site on Bravenet. "HELMAL's GARDEN" can be visted at http://helmalsgarden.bravehost.com/main.html. If you omit the main.html, you'll quite simply land on one of the albums rather than the welcome page (I was too lazy to modify the individual html pages of the second album I created, thus leaving that album as the "index").

You're welcome to visit HELMAL's GARDEN.

Fleeting Moments

I'm still enjoying playing with my new toy - this time it's bumble bees and butterflies that go fluttering by!

DAILY RAMBLINGS

DAILY RAMBLINGS

Just an ordinary day; you can’t get much more extraordinary than that! ‘Ordinary’ suggests some kind of stasis, whereas life is dynamic; I fail to understand why I ever think of any day that way. Yet, that is and just was the case; of that terrific disservice to the value of each moment I plead guilty!

Each new day we enter is a day of opportunity, a time to appreciate or a time to waste; all too frequently I spend a generous portion of the morning in bed, catching up on the sleep and, strangely, obtaining a quality of rest which the preceding hours never quite managed to attain. I do not, any longer, make this into a source of guilt but rather, take it as a necessary preparation for the full appreciation of the remainder of these twenty-four hours.

Upon emergence, and consequent merging into the stream of daylight hours, an ambling stroll up the garden, observing the minimal changes, to plant growth and decay, in both the cultivated and the more natural areas of our mini-estate, seems an essential prerequisite to my enjoyment of the day. It’s difficult to imagine how I possibly coped with living in a second floor (third floor in stateside terminology) apartment; perhaps I quite simply existed rather than “lived”. On the other hand, I do realize that what you’ve never had you can’t really miss!

There are inevitably occasions when my, Marxian inspired, political nature leaves me feeling rather at odds with this “spiritual” passive acceptance of my lot but, campaigning burn-out occurred many years ago. Social sympathies remain unchanged, despite my decrease in physical and emotional stamina; capitalism continues to eat itself, greed rules and, as a result, much of the world is quite simply a bloody mess. Pharmaceutical companies continue to leak laboratory strains of virus only to cash in on the need for an antidote; those prepared to stamp anyone down succeed in business; Palestinian Arabs are turned into homeless helpless victims on the very lands which are their birthright, as the persecuted have become the persecutor and, it seems as if morality is just another word for unenlightened self-interest.

The utilitarian ethos of the greatest good for the greatest number has been turned into an excuse for trampling on the rights and freedoms of all those who deign to challenge the status quo!

Sorry, I’m rambling again – I’ve almost lost the original thread – what was it? Oh yes, I remember, the extraordinariness of the everyday. These days, I’m overwhelmed by the simple occurrences of nature, the exhilaration I find in hearing the schnuffling - schnaffling sound of a hedgehog emanating from the vicinity of the birds’ ground feeder, the moths flying out from the long grasses as I take a twilight stroll up the garden, the sheer richness of life’s tapestry.

I can’t ignore the suffering that goes on all around us and, in spite of an accompanying sense of helplessness, I attempt to bear up in thought, prayer and occasional action, those who are in need and pain. In the words of a song by one of my favourite contemporary singer songwriters – Danelle Harvey – I’m ONLY HUMAN.

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy – article on Ekklesia

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy

“Caesar, the state, the organisation, the institution, is symbolically the holder of power in any community or the defender of the status quo. The military operates at one extreme end of that continuum of power where their job is to apply the maximum amount of force on the enemy. Anything else, marching bands, flood relief and I daresay, peacekeeping, is a distraction for when there is no enemy.

A clergy person’s calling is different; to sit at the opposite end of that continuum of violence, where vulnerability, woundedness and the beauty of brokenness are valued. Our hero is grounded in his tradition but counter-cultural, questioning institutional violence with the ultimate challenge of non-violent vulnerability.”

- Sande Ramage

A wonderful sense of irony pervades this article; what else could we expect?

“On the day I closed my study door and walked away from the military, I smiled as I noticed again one of the many posters saying "no to inter-personal violence", which plaster the public noticeboards around Linton Camp.”

- Sande Ramage

Testing the tiger: Reflecting on military chaplaincy

A Special Privilege

Some events quite simply serve to put one’s life, with all its privileges and setbacks, into a more realistic perspective. Some people, though still young, brighten the lives of all those they encounter; without these people the world will be much poorer but, at the same time we can count it a real blessing that our paths have crossed.

Today, my younger step-daughter, Cathy, received the news from a friend (one who has been a friend, confidant, travelling companion right through from childhood) that the friend has been given 9 – 12 months to live. The friend, Kate, a remarkable and radiant young lady, is 28 years of age and, 21 weeks pregnant; it seems as if the pregnancy, and its accompanying hormonal imbalance, may have hastened the growth of a brainstem glioma.

It’s only a couple of years ago, after much humming and hawing by the medical profession, that a tumour was removed. In spite of the loss of peripheral vision, epileptic seizures, chronic migraines, Kate always has a ready warm smile for all whom she meets. Having been given the “all clear”, she was assured that the best course of action was to get on with life as normal and, yes, it would be alright to start a family. (The latter advice, in retrospect, seems to have been more than a little suspect).

Last year Cathy had the privilege of attending Kate’s wedding, when Kate married Luke, a young man from Essex she had met during her travels in Australia with Cathy. Cathy has always been determined that Kate would be her bridesmaid when she marries!

The news has been devastating to all of us and, as Cathy says, it’s impossible to imagine a world without Kate. Certainly the world will be much the poorer when the inevitable happens.

The only time we have is now, and whilst our thoughts and prayers go out to and for Kate, her family and all her friends, we must always remember the privilege of sharing / having shared the same planet!