Yet another letter to Monty

Dear Monty,

On light, dark, hot, cold and pruning.

19/10/12 Today after reading about future rest - I suffer from a terrible rage. I just do not know where it comes from. It seems I just believe I am in control of one weak point in my life only for another to re - emerge. It is an horrific thing this rage when it appears. Perhaps it is about control - a rage against control and seeming injustice and offence. I am just a fool.

A healing thought for my rage was Kerith Williams's analogy of the children's pop up toy - you bash down one 'sin' only for another one to pop up somewhere else. That is me.

Love is the opposite to offence and rage - it is gentle and kind, it does not boast - is not easily angered. I need to love.
Tonight on GW you said that pruning is one of the most important things in creating a garden, perhaps the same is so in life.

23/10/12 The way of the flesh. My flesh is corrupted by a driving force of such great strength. My place is the cold place - the depths with shafts of light and shoals of silvered fish invisible from above. I dream and dreams are not always good. Jeremiah was pure, his mouth touched by God. My mouth is far from pure. I live too much on the earth, the spiritual life crushed by earthy thoughts, yet even the earth is the Lord's and everything in it.


'The journey of getting to know someone or something is often like this. (watching a plant flower) Again and again we reach a moment of recognition of the other for what it or he or she is which flowers in us again and again until at a certain moment there is the experience of inner union, of being at one with. It is a state of being, of intimate union, known and described by artists, lovers and mystics - no less by scientists.'
Dr Brian Godwin.

26/10/12 Mean spirited - even though watching you harvest pumpkins and re potting. Cold again because the thermostat is broken, and unable to light a fire because of honey bees hunkered down in our chimney.

27/10/12 A deep sadness from within surged up to the surface whilst clearing up crisp fallen leaves in the cold morning sun - I almost wept. It was the thought of  the loss of light that comes with the change of the clocks and the season - but then from the same dark place came a voice - there will be just enough light in the days ahead .

I don't know where I came from. Why do I love piano music when I was always in the sound of pop music - why do I love the natural world ? The power of trees the root and canopy - where does this voice come from ?

' Our understanding of the Earth is patchy and prejudiced. We don't know how herrings school or how birds fly in vast synchronised flocks. We no sooner figured out competition than we used it to explain everything, and then we turned out to be wrong. We don't even understand sheep and we have lived with them and off them for thousands of years '
Germaine Greer

Great is the mystery of Godliness.



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