James Ballantyne

Tag: bliss

  • When we take care of them, they take care of us.

    When we take care of them, they take care of us.

    As I walked home from town the other day, I noticed the sad sight of this butterfly on the pavement in front of me.

    Nearly dead.

    Prematurely dead on concrete that wasn’t its destiny.

    I walked past at first, my heart somehow ached for it.

    And then I went back, slowly, no one was around and so….gently, lifted it up, its wings so so delicate in my open palm, and still reflexing, or having its last few beats. I so so gently placed it over a wall and into a garden, so that at least it could spend its last few hours on soil and not pavement. Slightly closer to where it was meant to be.

    A colourful butterfly dying a premature death, probably hit by a car and then concrete.

    A soul less death after spending so long in its life to be, finally who it was meant to be, the end of the cycle. (possibly unless it laid eggs)

    It at least had a slightly softer death rather than a sudden one.

    And I said goodbye to it, and walked on, for at least in that moment, it had been cared for.

    And I heard a voice saying to me, as I walked away from it.

    You did not go through being small.

    You did not go through being silenced.

    You did not go through scraping around on the floor.

    You did not go through being afraid.

    You did not go through eating fifty times your body weight.

    And then…

    You did not then die a thousand deaths

    or

    sink into a darkness

    or surrender to change

    nor melt into a secret sacred home

    nor hide away nor stay

    to then emerge

    and fly…..briefly….only

    to live a curtailed life.

    You did not change to live a soul less concrete life

    You did not die, only to die again and again

    The cocoon doesn’t have a return door.

    You can’t go back.

    The universe is waiting for your flight,

    The universe is waiting for your colour,

    The universe is waiting to look up and watch and wait for you to dance upon the wind, and be interrupted by your joyful wonder.

    You were chosen for this life,

    You were chosen for this life to be life,

    You were chosen to be light and in the light,

    You were chosen for colour and to be colour,

    You were chosen from the beginnings of silence,

    From before colour and before time.

    To radiate eternity, poured out from hearts sacred colours.

    Time to truly fly.

  • It all started with a Goldfinch…

    It started with a goldfinch, making its pearl like chirping from the tree, just outside St Cuthbert’s Church, Darlington.

    Ordinary Goldfinch.

    Making me take notice at it.

    And ended with a Bumble bee scrambling for the pollen in the blossom in the trees opposite.

    And in between that distance of less than 10 metres, I walked. Slowly.

    No deadlines. No expectation. No Time.

    Slow Wonder Walking.

    Following the path along the river Skerne.

    Slow, almost the same pace as the river itself.

    Could I see the otters? Maybe.

    Walk slow. Notice

    Everyday wonder in the midst of the ordinary.

    The bee springing from the nettles

    The wren launching itself from the base of the tree trunk to a branch then shouting at me in its loud voice.

    The Dogs that didnt give me dog hugs. The Owners that smiled when they didnt.

    Slow step.

    Surprise after Surprise.

    Unexpected red breasted Merganser. Female, on her own.

    Grey Wagtails, fluttering their uniquely yellow underbellies.

    The joyful playful shriek of the girl toddler running away from her pretend chasing daddy, squealing and playing with utter delight. Her all black romper suit covered in a myriad of rainbow hearts. Joy.

    I wondered that I used to run, run away, or need to go fast.

    But now slow.

    Contented slowness.

    Embracing peace.

    Shades. Streaks of sunlight.

    Slow walking

    When we walk slow, we give the opportunity for a new person to grow inside of us

    Paulo Coelho

    Who is that person?

    That same joyous toddler full of curiosity and play

    Probably

    Sounds of play

    Sounds of nature

    The inner feelings of bliss

    Some kind of bliss

    Some kind of calm

    Rest.

    Bridge.

    Wonder at reflections.

    Watch the water ripple, make them fuzzy

    Watch and wonder.

    Stare.

    Be.

    In the moment, of accepting the magic of the ordinary.

    10 minutes of staring at willow branches fluttering in the water.

    interrupted by the joy of pooh sticks.

    Wonder, magic, delight of floating sticks.

    And beating grandpa.

    Boy running. Boy in wonder.

    Wonder.

    Awe.

    Everything is magic.

    Everything is open.

    Slow.

    Walking, back the same way.

    Temptation to think, ive been here before, must go some other route

    But I haven’t, I haven’t been there in this moment.

    “Always we have to look, Today suddenly a flower is the reason for your surprise, tomorrow it may be the same flower, just with a different colour, because of the age of the flower”

    Paulo Freire

    Resist the urge to need to go somewhere new, do the same, do it slow again

    I am 20 minutes older. Inside. Or Younger. How does this new person feel time

    It just is.

    Feeling its way in the moment.

    Though suddenly…

    Oh look what’s this, a thought, a thought about tomorrow, a thought about something I need to do and suddenly, my feet have grinded up a gear…. subconscious speeding up,

    Lost from the moment, into thought.

    Noticed.

    I saw you.

    I saw you thought.

    But I am here.

    And I stopped you.

    Because you are not for now.

    This is now.

    Wonder is now

    Slow is now.

    So I made you stop. For now is wonder time.

    And those dancing grey wagtails captivated once again

    And the gold crest in the tree

    The couples with their beautiful babies in pushchairs, all full of life and energy

    Noticing the joy.

    Noticing my feet slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

    feeling. Breathing. Heart filled with joy.

    That new person finding life

    That new person safe in wonder

    Smiling, arms outstretched

    Whistling Heaven.

    When I walk among the hills.

    Walking slow.

    Walking in wonder.

    Awakening.

    In the moment.

    Seeing in the midst, glory in the everyday.

    Timeless unbridled joy.

    Being fully alive.

    Peace from within.

    Return to the town.

    Slow. (but slightly quicker crossing the road)

    Calm.

    Bliss.

    An avenue of blossom, beauty amongst buildings.

    It all started with a Goldfinch.

    It ended with a bumblebee.

    A blissful walk that went nowhere, but everywhere in between.

    Wonder at Wonder. Awe is something awesome.

    Some kindness of bliss.

    Wordless, thoughtless, timeless.

    “What remains will be the love that moves the heavens, the stars, people, flowers, insects, the love that obliges us all to walk across the ice despite the danger, that fills us with joy and with fear, and gives meaning to everything.”

    Paulo Coelho