Category: Metanoia

Vexed by the Tribe (part two) – the fabrication of complexity

We’re visiting relatives. It’s friendly. We have a light meal and some cake to follow. But then someone mentions Brexit and a cold frost descends on the room… My wife and I bite our tongues, knowing our hosts are firm believers that Britain’s post-colonial destiny lies in a renewed ‘Little England’ reborn from some poster of decades ago. Until my wife’s uncle says, “Besides, … Read More Vexed by the Tribe (part two) – the fabrication of complexity

Vexed by the Tribe (part one)

I am vexed… It’s a word you don’t hear much, now. Old English, I believe. It describes an agitated state of mind – and possibly body – when something nagging can’t be solved. What I’m vexed about is the entrenchment of nationalistic opinion across the world, in the face of much more important issues – like the world’s climate problems and the undermining of … Read More Vexed by the Tribe (part one)

Primal screen

Somewhere in the frontal cortex of our brains there’s a very special junction – a place where we learned to do something truly different with our minds… Let’s call it the Primal Screen… Our spines can be considered the highway of our historical evolution: the inherited paths of form and energy that developed from single cells in oceans, through fish, lizards and apes. At … Read More Primal screen

Half day, half night, half nothing

Along the edge of darkness lives delight A silver, shining, running stream A place of soul’s respite Where questions rise unbidden And answers tease and tide from hidden A flow so all-embracing that the third: Not day, not night, is briefly seen. ➰ ©Stephen Tanham

The Blissed Hand

Like a flower the truth is swiftly hurt Perfection is the gentlest thing Touched only by inside seeing Fingers’ secret is caress Engaging deeper self A sacrifice to one alone Blissed hand holds essence of rose Its fading leaving room for another Its silence an invitation to a third ➰ ©Stephen Tanham

Nine Deadly Sins with Coffee, part 25 – The Turning Point

I knew it was Alexandra. I could feel her strong presence as she entered the cafe for our Monday morning chat. Even though I could not see it, I could tell, exactly, the moment that she stood still to take in the scene, unmoving by the doorway, gazing across the busy tables, her vision locking on to the spectacle . . . I had worn the best … Read More Nine Deadly Sins with Coffee, part 25 – The Turning Point

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