Another blog!
Each morning at five o’clock I get up and make my way to the garden. I am in Petersham, an inner-west suburb of Sydney Australia, looking after my dear friend who has a broken leg. At six the first of a thousand planes will be landing at Sydney airport and flying low over the house on their landing-approach - there is this opportunity for one blissful hour of peace and tranquility before the polluting arrows of ‘civilization’ roar once more into my life. The dog sits at my feet, the cat sits on the table beside me.
I make of my mind a temple for one hour each day and remind myself that inner peace is a pleasant and prescient antidote to the stresses and tribulations of a daily life. Stendhal said that “each day the reasonable man starts out on the search for happiness” and though I am sure this insight has its merits, it is not one that applies to me. I do not search for happiness, I do not “search” for a purpose - search seems far too active a word to describe what I am doing here. I am not searching (as such) for anything.
Rather, I am remembering that beneath the vast panoply of the atmosphere, that comforting arch above the conundrums of this earth, we sit (mere mortals) with our trials and tribulations, our joys and sorrows, and there is precious little that is subject to our controls, other than ourselves. What are we to do, with this “thing” called me ? As my friend was fond of saying “we should get out of our own way”. That is what I do. For a blissful hour I step out of my own pre-occupations and simply become part of a suburban garden.
The plants are growing. The birds sing. There is nothing to do, for I have done more than enough already ! Simply sit. Be here now. On the lemon tree the fruit is green and I am reminded of the lemon tree in my garden in Spain - the thought arises, the memory is momentarily enjoyed, and away it goes without a care in the world. Thoughts manifest and they pass in their own inimitable way, I neither encourage them nor do I follow them with relentless attention. I allow them to frolic within my mind with paternal affection, rather like an indulgent father watches over his children playing in a park. Children know instinctively how to play, thoughts know instinctively how to come and go ! They arise, they manifest, they ‘do their bit’ and then they depart. From whence they come, to where they depart - who is to say ? The first of the planes roars overhead. Life intrudes.
In a week I shall go to Bali, to the land of temples and prayer. I shall go to look at a small piece of land high in the mountains that is for sale. If my book does well in America and Europe perhaps I will have enough money to purchase the land which by Western standards is ridiculously cheap. Perhaps I will even have enough to build a small wooden house ! Who knows ? The future is uncertain, eat dessert first, as Kinky Friedman used to say. It is all in the lap of the Gods ! I like the uncertainty. My whole life has been uncertain. Nothing is certain but death and once this is merrily accepted (for I can never bring myself to feel sad about the inevitable) then life can be joyously embraced. I am a sensual soul - I love life with an epicurean passion. It has been such a long strange trip but the dishes I have consumed along the path have nurtured me with such an amazing palette of sensations. What to do ? I have done enough already !
Still, the airplane reminds me. There is a book to be worked on, the animals to be fed, the washing up to be attended to - there is plenty to do ! But for one hour a day there is nothing to do but sit and enjoy the peace and quiet of this garden. To allow the thoughts to come and go and to pay them no particular attention. To be at peace with the world and all that is in it. I wouldn’t change my hour for all the tea in China, for all the money in the world. It seems to silly me, the perfect start to a day. Then, I tell myself, but what do you know ! Only this - this world is a beautiful hotel .
© sam cutler 2010
