False, and Real, Gold
It’s the end of a busy week, less stressful than previous ones of late but wearisome with tasks I find uninspiring and the reality of working to live rather than living to work at present… a negative view I know but it’s what’s been arising of late, leading into more constructive rounds of reviewing my situation and aspirations.
Having a loose and non-functioning wisdom tooth removed probably didn’t help my energy levels either; the tooth now sits in a plastic tube, a sort of memento mori, a visible step in the eventual dissolution of my body, a useful “wake-up-now!” meditation.
Thus Friday evening is welcome, the weekend a time of recharging and opportunities to do some of the things I am really drawn to. Last weekend it was a superb day on mountains I hadn’t previously climbed, some plein air sketching and painting too, achieving two objectives and enhanced by the company of a handsome Raven during my lunch, sitting on glittering crystalline snow.
I called by the railway station to collect my tickets, bought well in advance, for a Christmas visit to my sister, then into the nearby supermarket for a couple of things.
Music, loud and hammering in my weary brain, lots of people, slightly frantically searching, calling out, filling baskets, so much stuff, choices and more choices…. my mind felt numbed, I noticed I was wandering through the aisles, a feeling of nagging and unfulfillable un-satisfaction (not dissatisfaction)… I began to feel like a hungry ghost, mentally plucking goods from the shelves yet never losing the hunger.
Reaching the night air outside again felt surreal, a transition into a new phase of a dream. Back to the car, home, through slow queues of traffic. A welcome shower, food, recovery.
Now I feel simply tired, waiting for the washing to complete its spin cycle so I can hang it up to dry, a simple, useful, task that is surprisingly satisfying.
At the beginning of the week, I cycled to work on a bright, cold, crisp morning. The trees in Bannockburn heavy with bright autumnal leaves, beginning to fall around me. I find these colours and the scent of the season as rich and nourishing to my spirit as the best food and most subtle wine; that sweet beginning of decay and return to the soil, the hot colours in cold blue air and silvery frosts and mists.
I’m reminded regularly by little things like these of a recurring question.. what is wealth, really? What do I actually want to do with my energy and experience and time? What is of enduring value to me? What are the things I genuinely need and what am I holding onto through unhelpful attachment? How do I distinguish false Gold from real?
The rhythm of Pink Floyd’s song “Time” echoes in the back of my mind as I notice that the washing machine has stopped..
The washing’s done
The spin is over,
Thought I’d something more to say…
Goodnight, and I wish you a weekend rich in real Gold.