In the Eyes of the Wise

I have been chasing footsteps in London this summer: a city bright with excitement, sparkling with the glint of medals, more cheerful and upbeat than I’ve known her for a long while. Even those of us who didn’t attend the Games felt that we had somehow been a part of it all. We all caught a glimpse of the Gold. We were all brushed briefly with the majesty of the power of human achievement. It’s everywhere in a myriad of ways if you’re looking, but sportspeople show it so clearly; in the tension of muscle and sinew, in the brimming eyefull of pride beneath the flag.

I took a journey to see an old friend. An aunt whose light step and easy laughter lit up magical moments in my childhood: a string of bright beads across time. She is an octogenarian now, another amazing human achievement (a gold medal for living). Stepping out of the car I breathed in the sharp edge of the salt air. There is nothing that can bring you home faster than the smell of the sea. ‘A long journey’, I said to myself as I stretched my limbs back into shape; but anywhere in England is a long journey for me now. My dance with my homeland has changed in so many ways. I was feeling for a familiar step, the link of inner rhythm to the breath of the waves, but could not fall in with it. Out of practise. The gulls laughed as we walked down to my aunt’s house.

When she answered the door she was singing and her eyes flashed a brilliant conspiracy of friendship. My aunt’s eyes twinkle as if with secrets so secret that even she doesn’t know what they are. She’s seen a lot of life in all these years, and her stories still sparkle with it all even now. Talking with her that sunwashed afternoon was a deep and rare pleasure: an inspiring affirmation of living life’s promises and surviving its betrayals. Why is it that there is never enough time?

Flying back to Russia I thought about the other wise women in my life, the pleasure of their company and their subtle and powerful teaching. I began to think again about eyes (I’ve done this a lot recently). I thought of my aunt’s shining, sea-coloured eyes, much creased with laughter. Then my inner eye turned back towards the hospital in Moscow: the Cyclops ward. There we all were, patched up and stumbling, learning to see differently, peering at one another with the good one; sitting, talking, listening. Here I met my Russian wise woman who taught me and healed me with her quiet dignity and peaceful presence. She told me stories of her childhood, and I will never forget how her eyes filled with tears as she spoke of the hunger that they lived with in Stalin’s Russia after the war.

All those years ago.

First Wheels

I watch them from further down the street as they race ahead. The Little One is wobbling, but confident anyway, his small shoulders hunched in concentration, little legs struggling to keep the unfamiliar pedals circling round. Next to him runs his father, keeping pace perfectly, a gymnast’s poise and bounce in his step. He calls out instructions, leans in from time to time to steady his son. I think, how is it that we are all here? This summer’s day, this Moscow street, with lazy poplar pollen drifting across the afternoon, these first-step moments shining in our minds.

Perhaps I caught a glimpse of this image once, back there, in those far-off, far-away times in suburban England, freewheeling down the leafy lanes of my childhood. It could be that I caught a bright flash of all this then, and called it a dream.

“Round and round”, the words echo back to me both in baritone Russian and in light, childish English. My two worlds meet in this moment – balanced precariously, valiantly, upon two shiny new wheels.

click here for Moscow – First Wheels (a very little, sunny, video)

Odyssey into Russian Reality (Part 1)

(If I had known how long it would take, we would never have gone.) We ride out of town and keep going north, the firs and birch trees flashing past in mile upon mile of forest. We grind through the … Continue reading →

2012 A Happy New Year!

I have been away for a while. I have been busy researching the notion of insight, inner eyes and finding a new vision for the new year. It turns out that all you need is a good surgeon, an over-worked imagination and some Shakespeare. For more on this, you can read the above new page An Inner Eye.

Meanwhile, my new year’s resolution, emerging fully formed from my recent experiences, is simply to KEEP CALM – no matter what happens.

I wish all my readers a happy, successful, healthy, beautiful Dragon year; full of fun, wisdom, insight, the ability to see what you need to see and be seen when you want to be.

From the Invisible Woman with Love. Happy 2012!

Ode to the Orchard

This gallery contains 5 photos.

We arrive at the rain-sodden Kolomenskoye gardens. Gold leaves drip and splatter songs of autumn up to the sky; the smell of the season’s musk fills each breath. In the distance, metallic waves of city sound sing restlessly, but right … Continue reading →

Living in Culture Shock

This gallery contains 1 photo.

At the heart of the bilingual family flares the eternal flame of potential misunderstanding. Any group of people anywhere in the world has scope for miscommunication, but in the bilingual home this potential is magnified. On top of this there … Continue reading →