::Tuesday, January 30, 2007::

My time in the Swedish self created retreat has come to an end..

a beautiful time watching the snow gather and fade away returning to the rain.and now the many tones of brown have been re-born..along with a lovely layer of ice where the snow was compressed by walkers..the confidence and grace of the stroll has left, now I am negotiating this new surface..arms flayling(??) in the air like I just dont care..aah, but I do you see I like my arse the shape it is and the hard flat and ice cold surface may just put it well out of its rounded beauty..just like the wind changed the old ladies face..I dont wish to find out if the ice will do the same to my cheek..left or right (very big !! ). just like I dont want to find out if the electric fence is live or not..

I said to myself that I would sit and await the full moon, watch the full cycle from this wooded area and it is upon me tomorrow night I believe.

My wood has depleted. I must abandon ship.

To where? I have heard through the random meetings of visitors to my little abode that there is a commune right in the centre of Copenhagen, a *free town* which began in the hippie age and is now open to all. I shall head there, with the full moon above, and sit and wait.

Sweden was amazing! I will leave the day of the full moon, for I know if I see it, I will be here for its three day phase and I must depart..

Be Happy

tim out

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::Thursday, January 25, 2007::

a thought..

This constant talk of past, present and future is more practical and obvious than I understood earlier.

On an intellectual level, I always realised that there was no reality aside from the present moment, but thee is a much deeper philosophy behind it than a mere intellectual understanding of time. And it is so practical, possibly the most practical understanding of self and surrounds one could have.

I have always spoken, to myself and to others about not living within the illusion. But I never had an understanding about what the illusion really was. Continually asking myself "what is the matrix?" I would put in down to breaking free from societys' grasp, free from the control of money and power and free from a need to social stature. The illusion is all of these but there is something vibrating so much deeper at the base of it all, and so much more obvious.

Everybody should regularily give themselves time to really contemplate what is real for them, what is truth.

In my contemplation and readings and meditation over the past year, there was one thing continuing to echo. And it wasn't until very recently that my mind and awareness clicked and made sense of it all. The realisation came about reading about Death. And it all became to clear.

Death is the key to truly living in the present. And The illusion is that of Permanence.

As much as people will say that they live for the present and in the present, without a real solid and true understading and acceptance of Death, it is quite impossible to do so. As much as you try to live in the present, your mind will constantly have the draw back to the future..."retirement, career, holiday, clothes, money...when will he stop rambling so I can get another beer?" all elements of the future.

The statement, "I may get hit by a bus tomorrow" is often used but is rarely understood. You may! And until you truly accept that you may, you will continue to have your mind secured firmly in the future. Or in the past, but both are fictional.

Milarepa spoke about a "deathless nature of mind". And until that is lived there will be no present moment. And we all will continue to live within the illusion of Permanence. I am not saying that I have a deathless nature of mind, but I now understand that route that needs to be taken to develop such a thing. Which everyone should give themselves the opportunity to do so.

Impermanence must be experienced.

tim out

Blogger Christina F thought ...

I like your thinking :)

3:01 am BST  

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::Tuesday, January 23, 2007::

What I was waiting for!!

Day 11 in Söderäsens brought a wonderful sky full of fluttering little friends all trying desperately to get to the ground to play their part in carpeting this many tones of brown forest with a single tone of wishful white..

For hours and hours it snowed. Winter is upon us in Sweden. Thew temperature dropped dramatically over night. The windows frozen, the door stiff. and the forest is now changed into itsd angelic winter state!

Every now and then, as you walk through the thick white, you can spot little patches of brown where my little birds from last weeks have come and pulled together thweir forces to up turn the snow in search of the daily meals. Where they havn't upturned the snow they have groomed it for a more comfortable stroll for the two legged upright visitors.

I can say quite confidently now that it is here to stay.

The one other thing I was waiting for in Sweden after 12 or 13 days was the moon, and on the same eve as the snow it also shone its graceful silver sliver dance in the sky, illuminated by the distant and powerful ball of flame we all so desperately depend upon.

I'll keep saying it until I am told to leave (and even then, but with a clenched fist toward the evictors - no..not really, I'll smile at them with pleasure for the time I have had - and maybe apologise for the now dwindling wood supply, but it is there for winter right? this is very much winter).....---where was I?

---This is a Beautiful Place!!!

for now

tim out

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A little gift for a man in solitude..

Saturday, day no.8 or 9 or something...Söderäsens National Park..

as many days without a sighting of another person amongst the trees I had emersed myself into. I was seated at my fire after a quick trip into tn for some supplies, just getting settled into my routine of relaxation in front of my fire when I heard a sound at the front door of this little hut. Immediately I feared the worst and my heart jumped into my throat, forestry commission..they've found me!!?? I'll be evicted for sure (for I am basically squatting in this little place with the open fire)
I listened as the footsteps took the same route I had the first time I came through the front. Around to the right, through the orm room of ply sheet wooden beds, into the kitchen and of course the push came at the door to my leftand through it came a flock of song birds in disguise as a bunch of theatre, film and graphic students from a nearby town.

The first was along haired, moustached cowboy as surprised at seeing me as I was at seeing him, the rest merged and peered over his shlder until the doorway was full of faces looking into the room I had so purposefully made my temporary home.

Foam matress folded in three, supported at the back by three chairs to make a comfortable back rest, food all over one table, paper all the rest and my books and the like spread around me. It would have been a sight I would imagine, bearded looking 'bushman' (they later donned me) sitting in his striped thermal underwear crowded with his essentials..

I was later informed that the evening ended at about 5am, with many hours spent gathering around a raging fire, laughs, food, song and beer to keep the night from dwindling..

A wonderful gift for a man in solitude..

The only downfall was the first hangover I had had in many a week..oooh, it was bad..

but well worth it!

Thankyou to you all if you ever read this..(and I still only knowthree of their names)

tim out

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How do I end up in these places??

with much gratitude!

My second day in this wall-ed hut in the company of my fallen and flourishing friends of this deciduous forest, I had a moment of doubt as to whether this is where I am meant to be right now. With the fire going, I sat unable to read, unable to relax and enjoy peace, forgetting the unpredictable steps that brought me to this place and the excitement I had the day before.

This in mind I gazed out the window to observe what I assumed at the time to be the wind blowing gales and carrying with it a multitude of autumn leaves that have layered the floor of this dense forest, but as I peered out the window closer, I could see no effects of the winds in the canopy of the bare trees, still though, the sky was full of a dense congregation of fast flying objects filling the overcast sky.

Closer observation revealed that the sight I was seeing was a mass migration of thousands of little finch like birds with their wings flapping at a rate of knots undetectable to the naked eye and then ceasing to let the little creature fall slightly before being caught once more of the urgency of the flap.

I stepped outside into the raging torrent of a river of life above and stood in awe of what I was witnessing, firstl with the knowledge that I was the only person observing such a sight, and secondly fering that they would spot me and dive with acute accuracy and with their little bombs splatter me in a see of white poo. (actually this never came to mind, but the sheer number of them could have fattened if they so desired) The surge continued for a solid fiften minutes, waves but still a constant flow, all seeking refuge among th forest floorwhere they sat in community and scrummaged for insects. Spreading the leaves in a dance of little gusts of wind. Thousands upon thousands of the converged and if I took a step closer a whole hord would leave the rou creating mini hurricanes and a thunderous sound.

And still the river flowed above.I was counting a thousand every 15 or so seconds. You could see frequent little battles above as they qsueezd their mass population in the small sky. Swooping. Ducking. Diving. Attack and Evade.

I was very grateful I had my moment of doubt at that time which allowed me to gaze ou the window!

be happy

tim out

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::Tuesday, January 16, 2007::

5 nights...

I once got a message from a friend of mine who was in the UK entitled - 5 nights in the life of Mark (but it was all in capitals, for he seems to have a phobia of the shift button, so as soon as a letter should be in caps, the rest of the whole message is also in caps..LOVE YA MARK!

anyhoo..this is five nights in the life of Tim.

After leaving Amsterdam, with a much better opinion of the place than the last time I was here, I jumped on an overnight bus up to Copenhagen (much to my confusion at one point, awaking on a ferry - which I wrote about briefly in my blog). Copenhagen, or Kopenhavn is a seriously expensive town, so got me little backside out of there right quick.

At the train station I was looking for a way up north to a wwoofing farm at the tip of Denmark, but with a sense of uncertainty about this destination, even while in the process of looking at ticket prices, I was open to suggestion. When I jumped on my email and saw contact details for a friend of a friend in Sweden I figured 'why not?'.

So two hours later I was in Sweden. How easy it is to travel between countries over here!

Sitting in Helsingborg after the ferry, I knew I couldn't go straight to this place, as I had only just dropped them a line, in the mean time...I sat.

I sat and waited, for what I did not know. I wanted to get to a camp site 10km south, but how? I continued to sit, for it is what I felt I should have been doing. My answer will come, which it did. within about half an hour, doubt started to set in about my sitting, until a bus drove by with Räa, my destination plastered on the front and #1 was my bus. There it was.

On the bus I met my first Swede, a man with a glint in his eye of happiness. Pure happiness for his job, his life and himself. He was the most encouraging bus driver with an enthused Hi Hi! to everyone who entered, not the 'hmmph' you would normally recieve in the big cities I know of. A good sign I felt. He was doubtful that I should be camping in winter, in Sweden, I wasn't. Until I found the campsite situated on a beautiful beach front on the west coast, with a fresh northerly wind blowing and closed. Why? I thought, wouldn't anyone want to enjoy this? That night was spent in a deluxe hostel with two guests - I was beginning to get the idea that there is no tourist industry in January in Sweden. What a sleep! With the double bed all myself, I opted for the floor - my back cant take beds anymore..

The next day dawned and I had no idea where I was meant to be going. So I searched for the nearest place to pitch my tent. Söradesäns National Park sprang to my attention.

At 4pm, light dwindling, I stood at the entrance, a train and a bus later, no longer with my rucksack, as I traded it for a duffle bag to throw an different element into the way I would travel, I looked at the many tones of light brown which would slowly become one tone of black in front of me and started walking.

About half an hour in figured anywhere which si flat, everywhere was wet. I spotted my site - across the other side of the three brach river at my side. With no time I had to find a place to cross. Two bags, three crossings, which would equate to nine little dips. Shoes off, in. and wow! A river crossing up to my waist - January - Sweden. With my tent pitched and my legs thawed I realxed and meditated.

Two nights spent pitched here I was meandering through the lush forests, greenery abundant on the mossy rocks and the autumn browen not yet left, and I stumbled across a warm candle glowing in the dense wet world. A hut in the middle of nowhere with a sign translated into english saying 'Stay for free, keep it clean'.

I am writing this - transcribing from my notebook - sitting in front of a strong but small fire, by candlelight, in my own lodging - shadows dancing on the walls surrounded by nothing but the welcoming sway and roar of the wind through the neighbouring trees, with the knowledge that I can stay here through the whole winter until my time to return to Belgium on the 10th March arrives.

So I shall .... await the snow and enjoy the peace, for I know that no-one else will arrive to share this little golden ray of sunshine with me. But if someone does, I will welcome them as much as I felt welcomed.

A shop is two hours walk away, food is not a problem. You can live for a long time on soup, bread, lemon water and my little combustable cooker. And the Bibliotek, which I am seated now, amongst the company of many primary school kids who are continually coming and asking me what I am doing, with the only reply I can give them being a smile and hand signals, they stand there staring as confused as me. There seems to be no issue of age difference in communication when neither of you speak the same language, good times!

So back to my little paradise and I will write again at some stage..

Be Happy

Much Metta

tim out

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::Thursday, January 11, 2007::

2007 and beyond!

Welcome people to the brand new year!!

Trusting you all saw it in, in style!

My welcome was spent in the surrounds of the magnificently energised Dhamma centre in Belgium. A beautiful way to being in the new year! Meditating amongst the like minded in silence..

The manic flip through and out of Scotland was, as expected, manic..but all in all, perfectly executed! I spent christmas day in such a small little village in the western region, outside Gent, in a cosy wee pub, as this was the only place open - even the accomodation I had sought had shut down for the festivities, so the pub was the only option and once again I spent time in a lovely family atmosphere of the local, just down the road - you know the one, conversing by a means of hand signals, pen to paper, music and the ever trusting eyebrows..

Then onto Vipassanar after a few nights in my tent with the only visitors being the police thinking I was a gypsy - which upon reflection, I am.. Vipassanar - absolute magic. To try and put words to the 10 days there would be demeaning to the experience.

And once again, timing was perfect, as I then was off to Amsteradm to stay in a 1920s converted cargo ship-house boat in the Amsterdam harbour with Peter Den Dekker - classicly Dutch, Chi Kung teacher, accupuncturist. Time to be treasured, really, thankyou Peter! Much luck to you my friend, you're quite inspiring!

Im in Denmark now, on my way to a real winter in sweden. Caught a bus, as was dramtically cheap and I was too lazy to stick out the thumb. Was a touch confusing when at 3am we pulled in to what I thought was a pit stop for some food. Off the bus was with a 5 minute timelimit, or so I thought. I scaled the staircase to find myself in a bussling shopping centre. The disconcerting thing was to be the lack of ability to walk in a straight line. I hadnt has enought to drink to be in this state for weeks, but put it dopwn to waking up in the bus in an inverted yogi poisition, vertical, legs on the window. Got me a drink, ran down the stairs to resume the ride only to find the bus in some sort of loading bay surrounded by trucks, all locked up. It was then that I realised that I was on a ferry..muchos confusion for a momento..but it did explain the swaying..when I disembarked in Copenhagen at 6am, pitch black, my newly bought - cheap as deluxe french fries dripping in cheese curd and gravy, literally, its a piece of .... - mp3 player pulled out dee dum dee dum dum - " I'm on the road again!!"

Kopenhavn. Lots of rain. Time to leave now.

Metta to all my dear friends!

tim out..

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