Hello there again!

I hope this day finds you straining with the reigns of 2007 in your hands, staring out from the golden chariot of adventure, poised and programmed to whip the thoroughbreds of desire and submission into headlong race of what is going to be the greatest, the truest, the most daring, the deepest, the most talked about, the most transforming, the most ambitious year ever seen since the beginging of time – yowza, yowza, yowza – com’on down folks, and roll on up to the greatest year to be ever lived -yozza, yozza, yozza…

MEANWHILE, for all of us still taking the little blue tablets, I’d like to welcome you to what has got to be the second most depressing (weatherwise) day of the year. Where I am today,you couldn’t take a photograph without a flash: people are walking up and down outside my window like victims (you choose) with high cheekbones, and hollow cheeks, watery, far away eyes and damp hair. They’re walking as if on the last leg of a wintery lap, going, well…who could care?
It’s a funny time to plant a new year’s celebration when we all know, even, the god’s, I mean dogs, in the streets know that we’re still in the season of dying. We can see that mother earth is still in her funeral weeds, that to laugh would be an affront to the entire northen hemisphere, and that today, for 12 hours at least we get to see what it’s like to be the other side of the grave…

OKAY, OKAY… for those of us still taking the little yellow tablets, I’d like to wish you all a peaceful and happy new year, with all kinds of happy surprises and hardy adventures, with all kinds of health and peace and good fortunes. Luckily, the world is still turning, we’re still alive, and God knows still able to hope on the new year to come. For all of us who are very interested in hope, and thus life, freedom, trust etc., I wish you a truely ripe 2007, a pluckable year,hanging on a lowered bow, itself hoping to be chosen amongst all the fruits in the garden for appraisal…’for many a flower were born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness upon the desert air’. Wake up and smell the coffee, as 6th form capitalists say, and if there is a clarion call for the year, is it to awaken more, better, deeper and smell the coffee..? Heck, smell all the coffees in the world. It’s a big world, ain’t it? Somewhere, someone, or maybe its everywhere, everyone says life this or that, but, there’s always the little rabbit-hole, there’s always ‘the other’ humanbeing; there’s always the little red tablets which tells us the plane and the rocket have transformed space, its up to us wake up and transform everything else. Ho ho ho ho…

Hello there,

Today, being marked by the most depressing drizzle in Ireland so far this year, is, also, and way more excitingly, the launch of my new state-of-the-spirit weblog!

Ye are all welcome, one and all!

Ideally, any brush with spirituality should be permission enough to come off the main thoroughfare, and for the sake of and in the name of sanity, I’m going to underline that motivation and see what happens.

Again, if you’re reading this now, you’re very welcome.

Maybe because it’s winter, maybe because of the high and screeching winds we’ve heard for at least two weeks in Ireland, maybe because of tilting angle of the cosmos, but something in my spirit has stirred and is sensing life and seeing a landscape which now lies way beyond the binding capitalism of contemporary Ireland. (In Ireland at the moment we’re being corralled into a corporate collectivity to a point of suffocation, and going is our childish instinct for simplicity and randomness to make way for this maturing economy)

For me nevertheless, there is still an underlying and instinct for something I am only beginning to sense. There is the sounds of the eternal world: the wind, the wave, the hollow droppings in a forest, the silence of the sky, etc.,

For scores of people in time this attuning has always been a drive, a training which has kept their eyes strained on the horizon, their ears opened to the winds, their senses referring to the stars.

They’re referred to generally as mystics.

Not hippies running from the brutal regimes of capitalism, but visionaries whose spirit has, if for short times only found a way home.

I’d like to invite you to come further with me, and in the next few blogs read some of their testimonies. Through the writings of shamans, poets, saints, martyrs, healers, artists, legislators, hobos etc., I’d like to pull up the horizon a little closer and glimpse with you over the edge of the world. I’d like to offer you then, instincts and visions of freedom through various mystical writings.

So, if you like, lets hang out with the big boys and girls, and let’s chew on some their classic texts like strong tobacco.

Howsaboutit?

I’d like to absorb some of the great accounts, which contemporary culture revers but remains suspicious. I’d like to explore, what with all their courage, strength and vision, history’s seers offered.

If you’re still reading this now, thank you for your time. And of course, you’re still most welcome to join me soon, when we’ll kickoff by throwing the ropes back onto the pier and set out for the curving horizon.

Yippee!!xx