21 day water fast: day 18

Street signDriving into town yesterday provided a reference point about how my consciousness has naturally and gradually opened from a more focussed perspective.  In retrospect, the whole trip itself provided another, deeper reference point, because since then – in breaking the solitude and continuity of being here at the cottage, as well as in buying the food which will break the 21 days of pure water – I keep finding myself thinking about the approaching end of the fast.  With only three more days to go, perhaps this would have been inevitable anyway, but certainly yesterday’s brief return to civilisation has intensified the feeling.  In thinking forward to Day 21, part of me is looking forward to eating, but it’s not a very strong voice.  I’m not planning any feasts in my fantasy of fantasies.  (The only thing I’m really looking forward to is giving up this almost cripplingly low blood pressure.)  Another part of me is preparing to bid farewell to these truly amazing three weeks. Continue reading 21 day water fast: day 18

Brexit, hubris and the symbolic language of the universe

iceland fansI’m not usually in the habit of religiously watching football, but last night I found myself glued to the television for the first time in zonks.  First it was Italy versus Spain, and when the players weren’t actually throwing themselves to the ground and writhing around in their usual death-throes, I found it utterly captivating the way that the universe unfolded through each moment of play.  Every movement held infinite potential in the way the ball was passed or not passed, received or intercepted, the way that shots on goal were on target or wide of the mark and, ultimately, ended up either in the net or not.  Perhaps for the first time in my life I understood the thrill of the gambler about to throw the dice, because literally anything can happen.  In the almost infinite number of possible outcomes there lies an almost infinite potential for excitement, as life spontaneously self-creates before you. Continue reading Brexit, hubris and the symbolic language of the universe

21 day water fast: day 6

thunderstorm pusztaAnother smooth day.  No resistance.

The day began at 3.30am.  I woke up and lay in bed, unable to sleep.  Then I became aware of a faint rumbling, which at first I thought must be from tractors working late in the fields to sow whatever they were sowing, before the rains predicted for tomorrow arrive.  But it continued, gradually growing louder.  I opened the window to discover it was actually a distant thunderstorm, gradually, ever so gradually approaching.  I kept the window and curtain open.  My kidney area was feeling a little stiff, so I did some stretching, and then lay back in bed, watching the ceiling light up with each flicker of lightning, listening to the still muffled thunder echo all around the landscape.  I just lay there, as the storm slowly, slowly slid towards the village.  Continue reading 21 day water fast: day 6