Within the dreaming dance of life, full starry worlds unite.

These words came to me today and I will turn them into a poem. I haven't felt like writing anything about anything but I have been busy editing a manuscript so it probably does not matter. I am sure it does not matter.It is the living of life which matters; not the changeable particulars of action.

I wonder if I am subbing myself before I even write and yet the chances of anyone reading this blog is so minimal it hardly matters. Ah, ego, always there crimping, limiting, editing and confining.

Greg has gone to Namibia to attend the funeral of a young colleague. Rod Thuron was in his early forties and had been sick with cancer for probably a couple of years. He leaves two young children and a wife. I have yet to see anyone recover through allopathic treatments, whatever their age may be, and the comment, read long ago, that chemotherapy is nuclear war against the body and more people die from the treatment than the disease, rings true again.

I suppose people become more fearful when they face such illness and too afraid to look elsewhere but one can only wonder if, in those years, Rod did not think that perhaps conventional medicine was failing him! I don't know if it is still true but I read years ago that chemo has an 80% failure rate and I remember thinking, no-one would ever be able to sell a product with such a failure rate unless it were immersed in the myth, fantasy and desperation of modern medicine.

It is not that modern medicine does not have strengths because it does, immeasurable on many counts, but equally, in so many areas it fails pretty much constantly and not only that, in the failing it subjects people to a drastically poorer quality of life through its procedures and treatments. Then again, easy for me to say. Although recently a young friend in his early forties turned away from allopathic advice to have his layrnx, voice-box and God knows what removed and took an alternative path to complete healing. He might have failed of course but his rationale I suspect was given the options he would rather be intact and dead than carved up and possibly still dead.

Anyway, it is a solitary time on my own despite the busyness and the presence of Limited and Andrew around during the day. Our Thai neighbours are heading off tomorrow for a few months so I shall have a seriously solitary Saturday before Greg gets back on Sunday.

Deprivation breeds appreciation and looking at the challenges others face, consideration of the sorrow of others breeds gratitude for every minute of every day without such challenges. 

I went shopping at the local Sana this morning to buy cleaning goods. They are cheaper at Sana than Foodworths. The sun was shining and the road was busy with people walking and cycling, wandering into the road, ready to be missed as one must. I spend so much time in the house, through choice of course because we only have the one car and Greg takes it to work ... and where would I go anyway... I am happy enough working and doing what needs to be done. But, being out today made me realise I spend too much time within the walls. It is only when we remove ourselves from the known that we can see it clearly for what it is.

Within the dreaming dance of life,
full starry worlds unite and in
the turn of death and birth
we come to know ourselves. 
It is within the watchful place
of mind and time and now,
that Soul will speak and guide
our mind; that all will be revealed.