Skip to main content

The greatest teacher

A graveyard.

Each stone carries a name. 

Sometimes a short statement. 

Always 2 dates, separated by a dash.

The dash is the only representation of the experiences of life.

It's easy to get lost in the process of life. Getting overwhelmed by the stories of others, of family, society, religion and culture.  

It's easy to forget the rumblings, whispers and voices of my heart when the screams of others drown them out.

 But I know they are there, and sometimes they bubble up. 

It's at those times that I realise that life is the greatest teacher.

There is no way that I would appreciate the light if I had not experienced the darkness.

All those challenges that inform my path.

All those enemies who help me to sharpen my sword.

I'm honoured to become aware, long before I leave this mortal coil, that the life that I lead is mine.

I have a responsibility to walk my own path.

I need to make the dash meaningful.

And I give thanks for the teachers now. 

I give thanks for my ability to appreciate the teachers.

I give thanks for the lessons they taught.

I give thanks NOW and always.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Handstands

I’m waiting for a coffee on a Saturday morning, standing next to the counter in a suburban shopping centre. Around the corner comes a Mum with three spirited children. The impact of the small family on the shopping centre energy is palpable. The children are full of life, and the mother has her hands full as the little troupe, aged five, four and three, I estimate, engage with everything with energetic gusto. ‘No running’, Mum says to Mr 4, as a four-year-old energetic boy goes tearing past me. Mum turns around to see the three-year-old walking slowly behind. ‘Come on’, she says to Mr 3, coaxing the littlest one to quicken his pace. Distracted from the older members of the troupe for a few short moments, Mum turns around and sees Mr 4 doing a cool breakdance style handstand in the middle of the shopping centre floor. ‘No handstands’, Mum says. She does not see the coolness in Mr 4’s handstand.  Mr 3, however, is visibly impressed and cannot resist the call of acr...
Post a Comment
Read more

When days become years

The 2nd of March.  In a couple of weeks, I will commence another lap around the sun. So it brings with it a moment of reflection. Perhaps more than a moment.... How is my experience of the year that has been? Wins... New job New mindset, and stepping up. Awareness of my health and wellbeing, and action towards higher sense of health and wellbeing. Letting go of the little things Engaging the big things, the important things Getting to know the difference between little things and big things, realising them earlier and more consciously, and having the courage to take decisive action. Facing my personal history and family trauma Losses... Innocence of early fatherhood  Pretending to be nice (not really a loss) As I reflect on the year that is to come, I'm filled with excitement and enthusiasm. I feel I am in the right place, and the right time is 'getting ripe'. I trust that I will know the time and have the courage to step when the time and place are right.
Post a Comment
Read more

Chapter 2

Not again, she thinks to herself. And then the stairwell begins to lose its composition. Damn she says. It's early.  She grips the balustrade, knowing that it's useless. In the realisation, grips harder and closes her eyes.  This, at least, is helpful. The visual experience was harrowing the first time. It still is, but at least this time it is somewhat expected and 'normal'. Remembers the first time, it must have been 3 months ago now. Was sitting at a cafe in her home town, the smell of fresh waffles thick in the morning air, mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Ethiopian, she knows. Pip and Pup was a weird name, but the coffee was to die for. The light has been different, that morning, and she wonders how it might have been different if she had not needed to use the bathroom at Pip and Pups.  She had walked down the passage past the kitchen, and the passage seem to stretch out and bend to the right. Even though she had screamed loud, no one paid any attenti...
Post a Comment
Read more