New Year Review

January

This blog looks like lasting a while due 12 months to cover, albeit in summary, and mainly to the technological incompetence of your old writer dear reader!
The other months can be summarised more or less, then with luck we will we be done before bedtime  before tomorrow morning, anuary is tomorrow now, may or not may not.
Resolultons may be may be made  or not for the year, or not. Anyway, there are no shortages from  souces of your choice on New Year's Eve and Day.

February

Is the shortest of the year and weather qiite dismal. The Sun has shone over past few days and it''s been mild too. Evidence of Global Warmimg? Or just exposing yet another string to the bow of the Plutocrats?

March

Now it's Spring,The Light is really returning,  the Equinox soon!

April

Of coure it's never really settled  in any season in the U, K. but Spring averages more than Winter for sure. .

May also. plus June. At the end of August the Autumn Equinox, but we can hardly complain when December sees the turn of the light. Anyway to complain about what can't be changed is folly indeed!

Resolutions? Like intentions they have many who set them out in different forms, for symbolic reasons at the start of the new year. Why not? Sometimes they work.

This tardy blog ran into the evening, never the time when the brain is sharp, and less so in recent days with a  common cold working through the system in its various stages, and slowly the Natural Immunity  retuns, with another variant circulating.  As children we rarely were allowed to skip school, the the flu for example.

And after nearly two years of poltical Resistance it's been fun demonstrating in London and Newcastle,  but this old blogger finds the weekly Sunday morning Stand in the Park in Hexham more fulfilling, with new friends made, philosophy developed  and non-violence practised.  The younger folks can take to the streets !

Happy 2022!

Winter colds

As 2021 comes to an end, on Thursday 30th December, and the weather shows no sign of repeating last years persistent snow, which caused Daisy some problems since she sat at the side of the road far too long, causing issues with tyres and clutch requiring work at Fred Henderson's workshop. This local firm has a good reputation for service and Daisy was purchased there at a bargain price, for two main reasons: first because MG came to a strategic agreement with a British firm to gain access to the European market, making the prices lowe; second because Daisy had spent a while as a courtesy car, making her price lower still. Frankly, the previous several years wandering freely about France, Spain and Portugal, with a free bus pass for the returns to Stanhope at different houses on Wear Terrace, were liberating and the decision to buy a car required consideration. This coincided with the fortuitous arrival of sufficient funds to buy a small terraced house on the edge of Stanhope, plus more to make life more comfortable, including Daisy! Actually, it was the imminent arrival  of an American pilgrim which focused the Mind.

Daisy proved very reliable, indeed you might say a pleasure to drive and much more convenient, pointing to a serious slip in the holier-than-thou persona of being a pilgrim! Anyway, she still sits there waiting to be useful, and up to now starts first time, thanks to the regular attention of Fred's mechanics. All of which mundane detail add to the reflections  of your pilgrim blogger the day before New Year's Eve 2021. Not to mention the imminent March anniversary of the declaration of Boris Johnson of Martial Law and Civil War in many other nations. Regular readers will have noted that the second slip in the philosophical purity of the blogger only compounds the issue, and frankly neither decision was taken lightly. But that's how it turned out, as politics returned after many years,  politics of a radical nature moreover. Of course it's not unusual to return to one's roots, and these roots were red, Communist, and not just any kind. And since the old blogger never liked discussing theory without testing it in practice, there was plenty of that going on whenever opportunity arose for for demonstrations and strikes.

During the red years in London, the first daughter was conceived and born, but the Mother and I had already decided London was no place to raise children, and since she was born and raised in Newcastle that's where we settled. Then her Mother was persuaded to try for another child, and the younger daughter was born 2 and a half years later. Five years later, the cracks in the marriage led her to propose a divorce, which was not contested, and after a miserable winter in a flat on the front at Seaton Sluice, the blogger bailed out to stay with his own Mother, the father having died shortly before. During this period the priorities were reviewed, though the girls always saw their father in the holidays. Holiday Dad was the new task, and their priorities were mine, leaving them both fearless, which was my ambition.

Later on the blogger fell for another woman, and that relationship persisted several years, until the blogger returned to North East England,  when Buddhism, Daoisim and non-Dualty was explored in theory.  However, Spirituality demanded testing theory in practice of course, and whilst the Library is never short of books, it's not good enough, hence the pilgrimages. One of the great teachings of Spirituality is the inevitability of bodily death, better known as common sense. The Spiritual question is the soul and ongoing consciousness of course. And since bodily death is inevitable the older folks are bound to to get there sooner than the those younger on average. Bringing us to the title of today's blog post, Winter Colds. Such diseases rarely killed children, who seemed to get at least one every year, but it's serious for the older and is well known to be the thing that finally finishes us off, if the body is weak.

So, dear reader, if you wish to live long, the best advice is to boost the immune system, often neglected in the winter here, though optimal in Spain and Portugal. This current persistent cough, plus all the other joys of working through common colds is simply that!

06.30 a.m. in Stanhope, and the longer days still waiting for Spring Equinox. Breakfast next and some reading before wandering down to the street to greet some friends, reflect on 2021 and take a walk, which is one of the best ways to boost the immune system.

Tummy Mind

Today's blog post picks up a technique taught by Gary Heads from Living Mindfully, which was the body scan. This entailed lying on the floor, eyes closed in meditative pose whilst he guided us to feel each part of the body, not physically, but basically getting acquainted with the individual parts, before integrating them back into the whole. This brings us to the title for today, since the exercise left your blogger more aware of the importance of checking the body parts, which I did each morning on Camino. Feet are critical to a long distance walker, of course, and it's far better to deal with blisters before they become serious. Unless you enjoy suffering like many Catholics seem to do! It's in the script like guilt. And round the body we go. Shoulders are important when carrying a rucksack uphill, and the sensible thing to do is to keep the rucksack light. Then we come to the Mind, not to be confused with the Brain, which has it's own awareness, it's own intelligence. A calm mind really helps on such journeys, as was discovered as the trip progressed from France, over the Pyrenees and into Spain in November and December, optimal for an English pilgrim seeking warmish weather. In the years of walking in the Iberian Peninsula, plus France, long distance walking was avoided in peak times for Spanish and Portugese pilgrims in favour of Spring and Autumn. This was for two main reasons: one it was blasting hot, and two the hostels were often crowded if not full.

So, dear reader, there's the hypothesis for today, Wednesday 29th and just two days away from New Year's Eve. The chances of the blogger staying up until midnight are basically zero, though New Year's Day  may be indulged with wishes for family and friends, and resolutions for 2022.
As for tummy mind, this could well be a resolution for next year after the events of Monday, when a light lunch was followed by a chunk of Christmas Cake made by my friend in the village, complete with marzipan and icing. As if this wasn't already too much, a mince pie followed swiftly until tummy mind protested and demanded no more food that day. Since this went well, yesterday was the same, putting me in mind of the Theravadan Buddhists at nearby Harnham, where the traditional dietary regime was practised, which is a good breakfast early after Puja, work to contribute to the common good, then a bowl of food before midday, and nothing else to eat until next day. Exceptions are made for medicines and the Abbot decreed they included cheese and chocolate. The sugar addiction here at the Retreat House needs fixing and maybe it will be.

Meanwhile, it's still early, and the weather forecast is mild and rather wet. Still, there are waterproofs so a walk into the village is on the agenda, to energise the body and maybe buy a few supplies. After that, who knows?

Emptiness ?

Having laid in bed until 4 a.m. determined  not to wear the brain out, especially the Left hemisphere which research and science shows has hijacked the necessary balance with the Right, which sees   the whole picture. The Left seems to believe it knows everything there is to know or one day will. Atheism crept in as organised religions of every kind refused to accept mystical insights, unless they could prove them through their kind of science. This delusion became a new religion, known as Scientism, and still prevails to this day.to hear this religious view, but what can an old pilgrim do, after examining the contents of the mind, and seeing revelations from time to time? Obviously it's perfectly possible for the revelations to be delusions, but it's strange that Scientism folks tend to be very sure of themselves, and notorious for their lack of a sense of humour, whereas in the blogging pilgrim's world it's vital not to take oneself seriously, since, as Alan Watts taught years ago, there is no self to take seriously. Of course, this points to another mystical view, which is the fundamental absence of the small self, or egoic self, leading us to The Universal Mind, which has many names, despite the ancient warnings not to try to name what can never be understood. Just to be clear about the ego, it's not that it's not necessary; it's essential for humans to interact with other humans after all. And it's well known from experience that some egos are needy and play roles demonstrating it. Others we know say little and listen carefully to what's being said, and do their best not to judge those whose egos are rather full-on. Judgement and discernment however are two sides of the same coin, and this blogging pilgrim has no wish to spend too much time with raging egos, which may be selfish, but at this advanced age perhaps patience is wearing thin!

This brings us to the title of today's blog, Emptiness, which like a similar theme yesterday,  Nothingness, might sound negative, but it's really not. It depends on your philosophical view of the world, or worlds. In Eastern traditions, and mystical Western ones too, such words pointed to a view of the Quantum world long before the microscopes found it experimentally. Many folks these days entertain the possibility of Science and Non- Duality reunited at last. Non-Duality of course merely being a negation of Oneness, whatever you like to call it. Where does Emptiness fit the story? It goes back to the theory of the Ether,  meaning the Universe, far from being empty, is full of energy vibrating, which when consciousness joins in creates the worlds we choose. This infers, of course, the bloggers delusion that we create the worlds we wish to live in, which is weird indeed. However, if it keeps an old blogger content, who's to judge him? The reality here at Wear and Dao has changed throughout the years. These days reality is peace, tranquillity, and no more Wars thank you.

This takes us to today, Tuesday, in Stanhope, and breakfast whilst reflecting on what's been written so far, not to mention the typos! It's still dark at 7 a.m. as today's blog is published by Google, ostensibly free, but in reality like all the other data aggregators, not really.

Anyway, the weather forecast is light rain this morning and not as misty as yesterday, as discovered by looking out of the door. Whatever the weather, the pilgrim blogger will be out soon, while the legs are still working.

Happy Emptiness Tuesday dear reader, and thank you for reading today!

St. Stephen's Day

Christmas carries on from the day itself into St.Stephen's Day for practising Christians, better known to the mainstream culture as Boxing Day, which in 2021 fits neatly into the Monday to Friday working week. This means the only day recently with commitments for a long retired pseuo-philosopher and social activist is Sunday, and the growing Stand in the Park spreading around many countries after a young Australian came up with the idea, being one of many human beings finding World War 3 intolerable, done their research exposing the Great Reset, and decided to Stand in public asking for other Resisters to join him. It took a few weeks for Bradley to stand in his local park for an hour from 10 am, wearing yellow, maybe emulating Les Gilets Jaune of French resisters, well known for their dislike of authority, but the movement gained traction, spread round Australia, New Zealand, the U.K. U.S.A Canada and other places. A website now features lists of new Parks into which a Sunday Stand in the Park enters details, plus all the other things websites do. An idea whose time has come is dangerous to authoritarians, and since this latest attempt to maintain the hegemony of the plutocrats, and enslave the common people employs psychological techniques, through mass hypnotism, and biological weapons instead of missiles and tanks, and since sufficient resisters have understood that violent reactions to violence plays into the plan of the plutocrats, non-violence is the way to make progress. Of course there's a long tradition of this, including Archbishop Desmond Tutu, ally of Nelson Mandela, who died yesterday.

After a mild and dry Christmas Day, the forecast was for snow yesterday as a band of cold air moved from East to West, replacing temporarily the South-Easterly. However, the weather was by no means freezing, which has been known to cause the closure of the shorter high route, so it was decided to go for it, which was quite exciting in places, but manageable with care and using the gearbox to slow down and keeping off the brakes as much as possible. The road into Hexham was fairly clear so Daisy and I arrived early with the intention of cracking on with The Light distribution and maintaining the tradition of a presence at the Bandstand. Having twenty five minutes to spare, I went into The Beaumont Hotel for coffee, and since it was breakfast time for the guests this took a while. Emerging now a few minutes late, I found Bill, the Sage who drives over from Whitley Bay every week, and a stranger looking for the Resistance he sought. This was Andy, resident of Amsterdam, staying locally in Riding Mill for the holidays and he was delighted to find the trouble makers and took copies of The Light to take to Amsterdam. He also disclosed he was a childhood friend of a local warrior, well known for demonstrating in London, Newcastle and other places. Then Mary and Keith from Gaia arrived on their way out for a walk, and stopped for conversation.Bill and I agreed to drop their papers through the Gaia shop letter box, plus some for Trish, a hairdresser a few doors along, some of whose customers like news that's not propaganda. Or maybe another kind of propaganda!  Before that David had called in and took some papers, then Bill and I sat down for coffee at The Beaumont Hotel, where the breakfast rush was finished and we had a good conversation of a philosophical nature.

After this we parted and Daisy and I headed off to see Lynne, who liked a few papers and always enjoys the company of the blogger, which is mutual. The drive home was easy, as a thaw has set in, and it was time to sit and reflect on the day, do some writing on messenger and other FB platforms and read The Matter With Things  for a while, before deciding to walk before darkness arrived. Returning I found my neighbour at no.8 in, and having missed him yesterday knocked his door. He invited me in and we had philosophy which went deep, since he studied Theology at Duham Universty and became a vicar. Later he gave it up and threw the baby out with the bathwater, becoming an atheist instead, a subject we'd discussed many times over the years. Yesterday he disclosed he was considering being a vicar again, though he thought it best to move forward not back and was attending a High Church in Leeds where an Anglican sister of his sang in the choir. Though just once a month for the time being.

Now it's Monday, it probably has a name for practising Christians, but for your blogger, dear readers, it's a day of nothingness. Was there ever a day when any human being did nothing? As long as we're actually living how it that possible? The Monday to Friday between Christmas Day and New Year's Day has its own quality, when children are into their second week, parents are trying to amuse them or supervise them, maybe educate them even. Schools have similar functions and this old anti-authority old blogger was never keen on organised schooling,religion or anything, after the early years, when things got serious. As the divorced father of two daughters, living back in the Southern lands of the Hampshire and Dorset border, childcare was not an obligation, but a pleasure, and no job got in the way of it. Their Mother loved Christmas with her extended family in North-East England, and also having her own time afterwards, including New Year's Eve. So that was the agreement for the younger days of the daughters, and Christmas never my thing. That time between the two was precious, and today now that they're in their 30s still is.

It's nearly 6 a.m. and this blog is nearly ready to be posted, after starting at 3.30. The Matter With Things needs reading, walking of course in the programme, after that the day unfolds, which is how it should be. This day of nothingness is full of potential and everything is possible, some more probable than others, which is basic philosophy and quantum physics, or common sense perhaps? The point is, as often repeated in Wear and Dao, to be useful in the world whilst we're here in human form and practise the ancient wisdom, which is non-duality, Oneness, Love ...

Happy Nothingness Day!

Blogging on Boxing Day

As most people know, Christmas Day is unique in the calendrical year, in that almost all shops cease trading, though Mammon soon resumes the vital mission to generate profits for shareholders and others engaged in making money. As always there are exceptions to rules and in Stanhope the paper shop is the only one, even though it's the only day newspapers, known here as deadly propaganda, are not printed and distributed in order to maintain the brainwashing. Naturally those lying newspapers are never purchased here, though the blogger likes to pop in anyway, with copies of The Light for staff and any customers requesting one from under the counter. Likewise the lying television is never watched, since there's not one in the house, and the lying BBC Radio 4 is listened to only once a week on the trip over to Hexham, to keep an eye on their hypnotic techniques. Or, to be precise, an ear or two open to hear it.

Yesterday's early walk, went through the Caravan Park down to the River Wear through the fields and along the river, then back on the other side in the dawn to find a few humans walking dogs and some running, and even the Paper Shop still closed - opening times being 9-5 today. Christmas lights were still on in shops and houses however, so the walk was very Christmasy, and quite quick, given the lack of humans to talk with or shops from which to purchase essential and non-essential supplies. The opportunity was taken to sit down for a while to drink coffee made with hazelnut milk, plus sugar and chocolate powder sprinkled on top, and get back to The Matter With Things  from before the walk. But not before indulging in the addiction of checking Facebook for  Merry Christmases and the chance to join the rest of the human race in this part of the world by partaking in usinig emojis to indicate the emotions felt towards to others and the things they wrote. How weird is that? That's humans for you! To compound the folly, comments are added by the blogger, which as regular readers will know, is one of his hobbies along with walking, reading and cooking ... bringing us finally to the point or highlight of the day, which was preparing a delicious light Christmas Lunch for three, including two women and the blogging chef, a bloke.

Since the bane of Christmas Lunch chefs is the turkey, that problem is off the menu, which is composed instead of smoked salmon, a delicious alternative which doesn't even need cooking. Other items need cooking, including chestnuts with red cabbage, white cabbage buttered with carrots and peas added, and a bed of root mash. That's main course, which just needs yogurt and lemon pieces for the salmon and that's it - no starter required. The cooked things rested in the oven, warming, whilst the dessert and cheese courses were laid out in the kitchen: brie and stilton provided by the younger guest, who also provided the salmon and some of the ingredients of the mash, with dessert of Christmas pudding having been provided at the Wheel to Meals lunch the day before yesterday, now waiting to pop into the warm oven after the main course cooked things were out. The older guest brought alcohol free sparkling wine and mince pies leaving a lovely lunch ready for the guests at 12 noon, the earliest time expected, since the given time was arrival by 12 and start eating by one. The younger guest arrived first, bearing gifts as usual. She'd come straight from her daughter's house, having slept over and stayed to see her grandsons open their gifts, before escaping the mayhem to the relative sanity of The Retreat House.  The older guest was slightly later, having walked down from the village, and after brief welcomes from the younger guest and the chef, they sat down at the table to converse, whilst the chef brought out the main course. And so it continued, basically the blogging chef playing his dual roles, and the female guests doing what women seem to do best, which is to bond and find common ground, whilst the bloke focuses on serving the meal.

Well, dear patient readers, which includes both guests by the way, let's just say we all agreed what a lovely Christmas Day Lunch we'd had, and not only the menu but also the philosophy; not to mention the politics and religion supposedly banned from pubs and polite society trying to avoid controversy. Both women were brought up Catholic; a subject much discussed with both women, or ladies, separately, and now the blogging chef had the chance to hear the views of two victims of the Once True Faith, both raised Catholic, the younger from Jarrow and working class, the elder posh, from near Minsteracres close enough to Stanhope, and sent to boarding school aged just 6. Who was most traumatised by their childhoods? You'd better ask them!

As for the blogger, he's done cheffing for now, and is thinking of posting this brief story after breakfast, which is next, before preparing to drive Daisy over to Hexham in the light snow, with packs of The Light (16) to distribute at the Bandstand before a coffee with whoever turns up and wishes to discuss issues of concern, which is philosophy essentially. If a suitable coffee house can be found open on Boxing Day, of course. Then Waitrose as usual, which almost certainly will be open Sunday times, to serve shareholders and customers alike.

Believe it or believe it not, this blog has already taken two hours, so please be grateful and please give feedback when you can.

Happy Boxing Day!

Reflecting on the year

Another early start in The Retreat House on the back road on the edge of Stanhope in Weardale, North-East England, UK. Now this United Kingdom, albeit without a King just yet, and not United either, since the component countries, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland like to play divide and  rule, as humans tend to do, and regular blog readers may have observed the usage of U.K. twisted to add a D at the front, pointing out the fact it is basically Disunited. The Civil War in Northern Ireland, a feature of the Red years in London of the blogger, still rankles as soldiers who loyally served their Queen face legal action for their alleged crimes. More divide and rule, as whole sections of the U.K. armed forces threaten revolution against the state, which certainly undermines the current Government's tyrannical attempts to join The New World Order, along with many other nations. This eminently sensible project to create a genuine United Nations, has many adherents around the world, and was planned long before March 2020, when Civil War was declared by so-called civilised governments. Research shows how and why we arrived in this unthinkable position, and what free-thinking human beings are doing about it.

The Great Reset was a key book in the evidence. Written by Professor Klaus Schwab and Thierry Malleret and released in summer of 2020, it explained to a credulous world how the New World Order was being organised by the World Economic Forum of the United Nations, with the World Health Organisation providing the propaganda for the eugenics programme, using bio--weapons labelled vaccines, to reduce the population of the World by billions, starting with the oldest and working through the ranks of the gullible, until perfectly fit children were injected with the poisons.

None of which is a suitable topic for Christmas Day of 2021, by the way, though since this day has great significance in all sorts of ways, two opening paragraphs here are employed to reflect on history, specifically the past year and the preceding 2021 years since the alleged birth of Jesus Christ. We don't need to go into that story again either!

Yesterday's nothing much doing day went more or less as planned, including a visit to the Stanhope friend helping to organise the Lunch at The Retreat House, with numbers still unconfirmed. This meant philosophical discourse of course, always enjoyed by the blogger, and the friend must speak for herself. After that, a wander along the street found Beryl, sitting looking rather cold in the Charity Shop with few customers seen for the past days, though Beryl has her own reasons for her volunteering at the Community Centre, which the Charity Shop supports with the funds it raises. After wishing Beryl a Merry Christmas,  the walk back home was without incident except for the odd Christmas greeting along the street. The plans to prepare lunch for today, meanwhile, were put on hold as books need reading and Facebook and its other users need messaging or otherwise greeting with Merry Christmas. Plus organising the daughters of the blogger for their traditional Christmas visit in the New Year.

After lunch, since two walks each day are normal here, an idea popped up to visit Christine, an old friend, incomer and volunteer with Wheels to Meals, like the blogger, except she's still volunteering, though didn't show up at the Christmas Lunch for the elders. Christine was in her kitchen when I knocked on her window, and as usual her greeting was warm and her invitation to come in sincere. A cup of tea was soon on the table and chocolate offered, but that's Christine for you. Then her son, Paul, and younger daughter, Jane, came into the kitchen to say hello, which was a lovely surprise, since I'd heard so much about them over the years.

So, that was yesterday, as the fire was lit, food prepared and eaten after the shower, and the brain went into shut-down mode after the 3 a.m. start writing yesterday's blog post. So, dear readers, an early night and another early morning writing today's offering, before breakfast and walking and preparing food for only three, with an easy enough menu and zero pressure to do much until 10.30 after coffee, with the 2 guests scheduled to arrive at 12 and to eat about 1 p.m.. ...

I do hope you've enjoyed reading this stuff this year, dear long suffering readers. I've certainly enjoyed writing it. And what's the point of living, after all, if you can't find some purpose in life?

Merry Christmas!

Christmas 2021

Soon be 2022! Where did the time go? Where does time go is the question, of course, and that's been explored here in Wear and Dao many times, so let's keep it short and sweet. Linear time is considered an illusion merely to stretch time out ... linearily, if that's a word. It is now, anyway, since as regular readers will know, someone has to coin new words in order to expand the dictionaries, albeit mostly virtual these days. Which is a further issue to explore, briefly, of course, and the question there is an observation that more sophisticated languages contain more nouns than verbs. To put it another way, we English speakers, French, German and others, are deceived every time we employ words which imply a material World, which is false. As Iain McGilchrist and all the other wise teachers point out clearly, that's The Matter With Things! As for linear time, anyone reading The Power of Now by Tolle can tell you that whatever on Earth is going on, it's all happening in the Present moment; Past disappeared and is lived as history now, whilst the Future is all Probability. Clearly, some things are more likely than others, as Quantum Theory teaches us, and taught us more than a century ago, historically. As for Karma, that implies reincarnation, an important concept for Hindus, Buddhists and others, and once other lives are seen, in revelation, Karma comes into being, to keep the humans behaving kindly, not always the case, for fear of retribution by a Higher Power, the Name of Which must never be spoken, but often is ... that's humans for you! If you can accept the Reality of many lives, you realise all these lives are actually happening at once. Which is weird ... if True.

Back to the topic for today, here and now. It's 4 a.m. in the cosy Retreat House on the edge of Stanhope in Weardale, in the hills of North- East England. That's  A Place to Be in the mind of the blogger, and now by a few others, some of whom visit the place, some who agree with the concept in other countries and join the Facebook Group to share ideas, words and images. Which is nice. What is meant, to be honest dear readers, is we agree on many things and our Realities are aligned, more or less. Human beings at their best like a Reality where kindness is key to living a contented Life, however defined, whether short and sweet or longer and still sweet. Who really likes elders who are bitter and wracked with guilt after all? The blogger is well past his sell-by date of three score years and ten these days, and linear time supports the illusion by reducing the capacity of the body to operate efficiently as Time goes by. The wish of wise elders is surely to die without lingering pain, and let the mind deal with the illusion of Suffering.

It's Thursday today, a nothing day when normal working people pretend to work a full day but often don't. Other normal people take longer lunches and wish each other All the Best, Cheers, Happy New Year and all that. We're well past the Winter Solstice and The Light is returning slowly moment by moment. Retired bloggers get up rather early to write this stuff for you, whoever you are. If it amuses you, it amuses me. If nothing else it keeps the mind active, the key to staving off dementia through neuroplasicity and neurogenesis as Iain McGilchrist teaches in The Matter With Things in two thick hardback volumes, soon to be resumed when today's rambling is sent on it's way.

After that, breakfast of porage with stewed fruit, banana and honey is more than probable. It's part of the programme to keep the immune system strong along with other things. A walk is de rigeur in French, a language full of words employed in English of course, thanks partly to the Norman Conquest and basically the close proximity of the two nations in linear time. Reading, writing on other platforms, thinking and when meditation occurs, thinking not, all pass the time ... the illusion.

Yesterday's nothing day was not as planned, though not radically so, and the chances of today's nothing day are limited too. Stepping out into Stanhope ensures something happening in Reality; planning Christmas Lunch for at least two, maybe four other humans here at The Retreat House is a Reality of the Mind and amusing. The plans are still uncertain, and the very thought of all going to plan tomorrow is unthinkable ...

Merry Christmas dear readers, and your Happy New Year can wait another week when nothing much happens in the World of normal people. Boxing Day is already planned for A Stand in the Park in Hexham, so we'll see about that, not to mention the traditional football fixtures, which, believe it or not, this old blogger still checks for Newcastle the local team and Saints the childhood team, both struggling with relegation. All part of Bread and Circuses to keep the masses content with the fascism into which the Old World lurched around March of 2020. Hence The Light distribution and other ways for old folks, once radical resisters of divide and rule, to feel useful still!

Thursday before Christmas Eve

Another early start and blogtime again! Yesterday worked out as planned, which is not always the case, though what happens in reality is always the best thing that could have happened, of course. That's psychology, or mental health self-care, after all. So, the old blue rucksack, bought in Leon some years ago and still going strong, thanks to German technology, is filled with copies of The Light for further distribution around the village, after which there's ample space for the shopping from the greengrocer, Diane, another Resister. And home for second coffee, made with hazelnut milk and a drop of brandy. The Matter With Things is started with the introduction. No point starting with the conclusions at the end of volume 2, which would spoil the story. Then a few chores, including the preparation of a light lunch, and the eating of it so as to land with perfect timing at St Thomas' Church Hall having skipped the turkey and grateful for a delicious and generous slice of coconut cheesecake and a cup of tea.

The main point of the visit, was not really to enjoy a free dessert and cup of tea, but to chat with the elders attending the meal, the helpers and Jane and Andrew who brought the food and table decorations in their van down from St John's Chapel. All of the elders were well known to the old blogger, and were greeted warmly on both sides and photos taken for posterity. Two of the helpers were new and one was not introduced, but the other one was, and turned out to be the Mother of the proprietor of The Pack Horse in the market place, and we had a warm chat about how they landed in Stanhope in the first place. At a discreet time in the proceedings, two plastic food containers emerged from the old blue rucksack and went into the kitchen to see if there might be sufficient spare desserts to satisfy the sugar addiction, not to mention the hobby of foraging, which includes food likely to be wasted. Bingo! Andrew offered a generous slice of cheesecake and two slices of Christmas pudding, which were tucked in the rucksack for future consumption.

Fond farewells followed, and the old blogger wandered home in time for more tea and reading of The Matter With Things, plus some Facebook scrolling and messaging, and a chapter of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, since the brain was rather weary after the very early start and Pirsig's classic is an easier read than The Matter With Things. Similar philosophy however. All the deep stuff takes us to the same place in the end, after all, and yet another book, first published in 1943, Feeling is the Secret by Neville Goddard, is ordered for the Library via Hive, as usual. Regular visitors sometimes ask whether it's possible to have too many books in such a small Library. Not all questions require answers of course, and to be honest I often ask myself the same question. Neverthess, dear reader, my view is the very best books in an eclectic Library are not just the opinion of the blogger, but visitors seeking the wisdom on the shelves.

Which mundanity brings us to thoughts of early breakfast after posting of today's offering, dear reader(s). The day before Christmas Eve is without plans, except walking, reading, writing, eating without any visitors to distract me. Which is always a pleasure, of course, as is the recognition that plans have a way of changing themselves, so let's make breakfast and see how the day of nothingness unfolds shall we?

Library

Well, things worked out perfectly yesterday, with The Light distributed to some Stanhope folks, including at the Paper Shop where some of the staff appreciate it and hopefully share it with sceptical customers. Frankly, 400 won't go far if pushed through every letter box in Weardale, let alone Hexham. And since it's free to readers, though not sponsored by the plutocrats, then selective delivery is advisable. This includes the pubs and known Resistance, some of whom take more than one, which brings us to Anita down the Dale who I catch just as she's going out, and is happy for a few papers for her fellow magistrates who are sitting today. Julie is not at work in the Charity Shop in Wolsingham, but her colleague takes the copies for her, her son who manages the Charity Shop  in Crook, and husband who teaches keep-fit and has been a troublemaker since I met him a decade ago. The other objective was to top Daisy up for future trips, which was achieved on the way back, meaning the whole thing was an hour, leaving plenty of time to prepare the meal for John, before whose arrival the promised two hardback books arrive via Hive, the ethical option to Amazon, and the Royal Mail.

All of which mundane detail brings us to the two volume sensation, hot off the press, written by polymath Iain McGilchrist, whose previous book, The Master and His Emissary, is on the shelf for John to take when he arrives for lunch bang on time. As it happens, when we'd just finished the main course, the step-grandsons and their Granny, or Nana, arrived half an hour early ... perfect timing for the Nana friend to chat with John about issues at the Community Hub, while dessert was served and your old blogger had a chance to dress up warm ready for the trip to Gibside, and the Christmas Light trail, which was delightful and remarkably smooth. We all enjoyed the hour and a half round Gibside and the 45 minutes each way was problem free, meaning home for a shower, the fire and a light supper before bed, though the hardback books were left for this morning, when this blog is finished, the others being read abandoned for Iain McGilchrist, the polymath and his masterpiece in two volumes. Which will take a while.

Deep sleep was short and sweet last night, but that's alright. It's not insomnia after all. These dark mornings of midwinter are precious indeed and your blog is finished before 5.30 am. Later, after breakfast, the paper round will be continued when it's light enough, then home for second coffee and more McGilchrist, volume one of The Matter With Things - The Ways to Truth. Volume two, by the way is sub-titled What Then is True? and I can hardly wait to discover his conclusions, This is basically the Meaning of Life with hard science and a spiritual dimension. If you're as intrigued as your old would be philosopher you'll doubtless want your own copies because these two beauties are going nowhere. As you may observe, dear reader, the Camino and Social Media addictions are joined by the love of proper hardback books in the Library, and that includes Lao Tse's beautifully bound Dao de Jing another masterpiece, but not contemporary like The Matter With Things.

As for afternoon, the current plan is to call in to see the elders, after they've had their main course in St Thomas' Church Hall. John will be there, plus Elaine and dear Gillian helping collect the elders, which she still does. As any philosopher will tell you, dear reader, the only thing that's certain in life is change. And bodily death of course. This is the first year when your blogger was actually in Stanhope for Christmas and not volunteering. Was that an addiction? Well, no actually. It's been remarkably easy to stop driving minibuses and volunteering with The Hub and relax without obligations at all. And if the plan for this afternoon works out, there's a good chance of the sugar addiction being satisfied with dessert at St Thomas' Church Hall.

Let's see, shall we? Time for early breakfast!

The Light Returns!

If Saturday is the big day for families, whether they enjoy it or not, today, Tuesday, is far more significant for those suffering Seasonal Affective Disorder, which makes plenty of humans more than SAD, often suicidal, due to chemical changes caused by lack of sunlight in the Northern Hemisphere. And the inability to use the mind to control the body chemistry. So, the shortest day of 2021 is today, and your old blogger is up early for coffee to spark the engine, before sitting to write today's words of wisdom for you, dear reader(s). Of course the wisdom question is not really for the writer to say, and frankly the whole blog has become rather repetitive. Please note that your feedback is appreciated folks, and my intention is still to get the thing edited ... or maybe just do it myself!

Yesterday turned out to be busy after a steady start, writing the usual guff cynically commenting on Christian hypocrisy and how Mammon hijacked the message of Christ Consciousness,  then a message arrived from Malcolm, who collects The Light paper in bulk and distributes it around the North of England. This meant a trip up to Gateshead to collect 400 for yours truly to spread around Weardale, Tynedale and anywhere else where Resisters appreciate a copy or two or more. The trip through was quick, with Daisy fuelled up and ready for such moments, and the return was quite fast too, after the road works on the A1 over the River Tyne slowed the traffic down until the A69 to Hexham, or just before where the A68 home to Weardale takes us over through Edmunbyers, with hardly any traffic, meaning the Retreat House before 4.30.

Bringing us back to the Shortest Day, hooray! Another busy day, with the paper round on the early walk, maybe a trip down Dale to drop some papers in bulk to Anita at Harperley and Julie at the Charity Shop in Wolsingham. As for Crook a couple of miles further West, let's see.  John, a friend from the Weardale Hub in Stanhope comes for lunch at 2pm after he finishes work for the holidays, then a friend and regular blog reader arrives with her two young Grandchildren for a trip to Gibside National Trust Christmas Event, and all four of us are members. Let's face it folks, Christmas is for the children, and since the Daughters have yet to reproduce, it's quite exciting for your miserable old blogger to see the World through the eyes of young children.

Well, it's still before 5am as this rather mundane offering is soon to be published. Early to go walking and early also for breakfast. One or two little jobs to do, some FB fun and responding to friends on FB Messenger perhaps. Never mind Camino addiction, social media is the biggest addiction ever seen!

And if it's wisdom you seek, dear reader(s), try Buddha, Lao Tse, J.Krisnamurti and other wise messengers from beyond. Frankly most of the blog reflects their teaching anyway.

Happy Winter Solstice! 

The Weekend before Christmas 21

Here we go again! Christmas Week again and lots of excitement for Christian children, encouraged by parents who may or may not profess to be Christian, but like to enjoy the festivities anyway. After all, it's a time to remember baby Jesus who was allegedly born 2021 years ago this Saturday. Or Friday night maybe. It's a time for magical thinking as Santa Claus flies through the skies on a sleigh full of presents for children wise enough to pretend to believe in him. Frankly, dear reader, it was a disappointment to realise that the whole thing was made up for some reason. By whom and why is a question for philosophers, but let's just say having bought into the scam and feeling betrayed by the parents, it seemed wise not to believe anything from anybody without checking the evidence. Conflating Santa with God was the fault of the artists from centuries ago, who made the egregious error of depicting the Trinity as an old white bloke with a long white beard, plus the other two ... this was seen as evidence, by the way, in an art gallery in Portugal, during the years of wandering the Catholic lands of Iberia not so long ago.

Of course, the question for today, dear long suffering reader, being Monday, the day before the shortest one before the light returns, is this: Will the blogger ever return to Iberia to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in any of its variants, given the stated ambition to repeat the feat at the age of 80! Unlikely ... still, you never know, and variants of concern come and go also, and that's all made up by behavioural insights teams working for the plutocrats who seem to have declared WW3 on the world ... allegedly.

The weekend just past was Hexham both days, though it was only yesterday which was planned. The Sunday morning Stand in the Park, now running for 6 months I'm told, much mocked by the editor as he comes and goes between Darlo and Ciblat, took place with some regular attendees and others who pop in occasionally to say hello to fellow Resistance members. Despite the cynicism of the editor, who edits not a lot, but emails his comments from time to time, it's generally agreed that each small action of Resistance  against tyranny spreads like the ripples from a stone thrown into a calm lake. Sunday before Christmas was very well attended, and the warming regular visit to the Abbey Tearooms also, with the chance to go deeper into philosophy and what we might be doing next Saturday, as if everyone would be doing something exciting, since it's the most special day of the year. Except your birthday, maybe.

Now Saturday past contained a surprise invitation to visit Lee and family for afternoon tea, which was delightful with Lee, Martin, three teenagers, and, believe it or not dear reader, their local postie, Harry, a Scot, once in the Infantry, now a troublemaker for the Royal Mail, as he threatens the managers with legal action for their unjust actions implementing silly regulations, such as denying water to staff sorting the mail! Emma, the daughter is home from University, where she studies Law, so she has strong opinions obviously. Freddie, 15, meanwhile spends much of his time at school advising his teachers not to mess with him. Another troublemaker! Ollie keeps his head down and listens to his music, and Ed the eldest of Lee's four returns soon from his studies, grateful to his Mother that he took her advice not to take the so-called vaccines. What a life!
After telling Lee I was leaving whilst it was light enough to see the sheep on the road, I offered Ollie and Freddie a lift into Hexham, which they accepted, as I sped home on the familiar roads.

So, there it is folks! The Hexham Weekend! As for next Sunday, Boxing Day, Bill proposed a trip to the Bandstand. It would be a shame to miss it ... Now it's Monday and still dark ... the forecast is not to cold and light cloud, but of course, it's wisest to look outside to see, and take a walk as per usual to feel the temperature. One thing's sure, dear reader, it won't be shorts and T-shirt ...

Mundanity

After the philosophical ramblings of the last post, it's time to return to the mundane however you wish to define that world in English. The dictionary suggests it means boring, but the origin is actually French, from Le Monde, or the world as we perceive it. If we happen to find the world around us boring, well, that's clearly the product of an inactive mind! On the contrary, or au contraire as they say in France, je trouve le monde tres interessant. .. all of which introductory word play, or jeux de mots, is really aimed at the editor of Wear and Dao, an interesting character and old friend from the days working together around the huge enterprise known as Durham County Council, where the editor worked, along with associated local authorities, somehow keeping his principles intact, despite all the corruption in such places. Anyway, he received his full local government pension, retired early, and bought a house in France. Imagine that! A Durham lad from coal miner stock, having worked in smart clean clothes instead of digging coal underground ... quite a result and now he's back and forth between Darlington and his English house, and South West France and his French one. As for editing, let's say he seems to read this stuff, mundane or not, and sometimes sends emails commenting, to show he reads it. And since to be defined as a writer depends on a minimum of one reader, well I'm grateful to the editor, and the couple of friends in Stanhope who comment on the rubbish I churn out.

The fact is as discovered by your blogger as he wandered through life in the daily games of YinYang, which is basically the Daoist form with the light in the dark and vice versa in a circle of black and white with dots in black and white too, symbolising the mundane, or world as known. How else could humans know their small self without others to argue with, or go to war for that matter! Which brings us to divide and rule and defining the other as separate from our small egoic identity ... all questions examined forensically on the Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela by the way ...

Meanwhile, Christmas approaches. The Winter Solstice is a few days away, meaning the days begin to get longer every day for six months, bringing back the long days of Spring and early Summer, when the Earth warms up in this part of the world and food may be foraged in the woods again ... first greenery being the wild garlic growing abundantly on the river banks, ready for picking and processing by foragers who enjoy nothing more than food for free in early spring, and the picking of it.

So, dear readers, that's it for today. An early start in the dark means time to scribble this shite before breakfast and a walk as Dawn approaches. Maybe a trip to the village to visit an old friend from Jarrow, who moved to Weardale years ago, to serve the NHS as a nurse. Not unlike the editor, though he never moved to Weardale, but bought houses in Darlo and France! Pensions were the thing in the good old days, though all that's changing now, as the Plutocrats play their money games to keep the people at it ... the old games of divide and rule!

Never mind, it's been fun all these years, playing roles as a red under the bed in London for several years, visiting Albania to bring fraternal greetings from the British working class (how demented is that?) then becoming a Father and settling in Newcastle upon Tyne with two beautiful daughters, plus their Mum for a while ... anyway, suffice to say after trying Buddhism and Daoisim, I went walking to Santiago de Compostela to discover the formless and life's deepest meaning.

When I find it I'll let you know, dear reader. Maybe you know yourself? I'd say the main thing is to stay curious about everything and try to be kind to the humans ... they're doing their best.
Books keep arriving from Hive, the ethical alternative to Amazon, including David Icke's latest, plus the old favourite Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a classic. One thing's clear anyway, this old blogger will never run short of great books to read and to share with other curious folks who care to visit A Place to Be in Stanhope.

Time for breakfast! 

Realities splitting

So universes divide according to vibrational frequencies and the consciousness of each human being ... which is clearly crazy though makes some kind of sense in some philosophical systems and quantum physics too. Many Worlds Theories point toward such possibilities, some more probable than others. Consensual Reality is another form of craziness, though it surely helps to have a few simililarly crazy humans  to agree on the  form and practice we choose.

All of which thinking takes a while to process, of course, and re-reading this writing helps quite a lot, since the first Camino 7 years ago, walking mostly alone with my mind for company for long days of walking across Spain on the Way to Santiago de Compostela went very deep. On the Meseta, when 50k was easy enough in a day, the mind was full of speculation about Life and its meaning, and thinking slowed down as insight arrived from time to time, which helped settle the mind immeasurably, the goal of meditators all over the world, trying to use thinking to stop thinking, as if that could ever tame the ego self, the point of mediation pointing to one of the many realities available if the Many Worlds Theory of the Universe is right. All points to the individual mind, not separate from the whole of creation, being essential to bring consciousness into the equations. ..as proposed by Hugh Everett 3rd, a brilliant mathematics and physics student when he sat down with a friend to write equations all night until he found the elusive key to Einstein and all the others seeking to marry relativity with the quantum world of probabilities. The solution found, an infinity of parallel universes, worked theoretically but nobody took him seriously, so Wheeler his PhD supervisor persuaded him to dilute the essence and say Many Worlds as if that was acceptable.

Now, all this jiggery pokery occcured during the Cold War period, when the witch hunt was on for reds under beds back in the 1950s in The Land of the Free ... Hugh went to talk to Nils Bohr in Copenhagen, where the Copenhagen version of reality was basically: Shut up and calculate, since their probabilities could bring technological progress to the world, like nuclear bombs for example, and philosophical questions weren't required. David Bohm suffered from the repression in the USA, and his view of the holographic nature of reality still has its adherents ... all these characters are long dead now, but the Cosmic Hologram of Jude Currivan is right up there with other theories about Life and its meaning ....
,
And I if it appears incoherent what I'm proposing dear long suffering reader, then as you may know I have no qualifications in anything, so obviously this is all made up! Still, it keeps me amused, trying to work out the best way to live a contented Life. .. not long to now ... three score years plus  ten, plus one ...  and the clock is ticking ....

Electric power ...

Storm Arwen wreaked havoc around the country as high winds led to power cuts and cold weather compounded the feeling that the drive for reliance on electricity was rather limited, to say the least. Gas is piped in to many many dwellings, but gaslights are hardly seen and coal and wood fires banned in cities due to pollution.

The havoc wreaking continued yesterday, the aftermath of the high winds, and snow was lying freezing on fields, roads and pavements, but that's Global Cooling and some say a mini Ice Age and certainly not normal fluctuation of climate changes, since the leaders of the free world decreed Global Warming was the topic at COP, and if St Greta says so, then who knows what's going on!

Back to Reality in Stanhope and the issues with shops, the road over to Hexham via Edmundbyers, is swifter by taking a risk, but not if the road's blocked, when it's safer to go round. All was well until the digger was spotted clearing the snow, but only took a few minutes and the road to Hexham was open Arriving at The Bandstand early, only your blogger was there, until more arrived to discuss electrity cuts and water off, not to mention the Nature of Reality which was discussed there and in the Abbey Tearooms later, where there was electricity and water for our large group to have coffee and cake.

Now that was late November, now it's early December, with  Solar Eclipse due tomorrow, Saturday 4th, as Christmas craft fairs get in full swing, in Stanhope and Hexham, and The Garden Station Sunday after the Stand in the Park, for gifts, tea and cakes ...

Not being a Christian as such, and frankly not being keen on the hypocrisy I saw at school, I generally skip Christmas and often went to warmer countries like Spain and Portugal, where the vitD is stronger ... of course the fascist dictatorships in those countries were as bad as the one here, so the Camino can wait until the plot is exposed. Not long now ... basically when humans stop complying with orders, love wins of course ...

Gales and snow

It was forecast for gales and snow and last night high winds removed some trees and electric lines in Stanhope and Crawleyside, though not over the river where The Retreat House is ... just as well, since gas pipes never made it over the river either, despite the old gas works being just the other side ... never mind, gas can be explosive and poisonous, whilst electric is clean and safe, mostly.

Of course this body enjoys exercise and wind and snow is no excuse for missing the early walk, though Sun was late rising due to snow clouds which parted finally ... frankly this snow at street level is slushy and forecast tomorrow is dry and mostly sunny for the trip over the top with Daisy, sometimes impassable in proper snow. Hexham as usual!

Meanwhile in Weardale life goes on despite electrify cuts in the shopping street where shops are without light, the local traders have candles for business as usual. Only the Co-op is closed, even the paper shop has candles or battery power, though no papers are delivered which is a blessing in disguise since the mainstream papers are all lying, and the best way to wake up to what's really going on in the world is to turn off the telly and stop believing the bullshit. ..

As usual 90mph storms blow themselves out soon enough and the freezing temperatures forecast to pick up later, depending on the direction of the wind, meaning by Tuesday some rain and 5° which is warmer and wetter, though not necessarily better, depending on your point of view. Now it's time for breakfast and a short walk, before heading over the hills to Hexham again, wrapped up warm to Stand in the Park again, as usual on Sunday morning, beside The Abbey where the C of E folks will be worshipping indoors.

Friday weather ...

Whether or not you trust the BBC, they seem to have predicted the weather at least!
This morning I stepped out into the Dawn and headed up the Weardale Way, togged up warm and dry, ready for sleety showers running through, though it was not too windy at the top and only Sun rising in the East, and warmer than yesterday, with frost and ice about. No humans were found to disturb the Silence all the way round, including the riverside path, where humans are often found walking with their canine friends. Two hours later, clouds appeared though no sleet yet, and now it's blogtime in case eager readers are waiting for the latest musings, which is highly unlikely, dear reader, but anyway nothing's wasted, since it's primarily written to amuse the writer, who appears to exist, not the mythical readers who may not ...

The Nature of Reality is a recurrent theme at Wear & Dao, since it's a question philosophers ask, not seeking an answer, but asking the question at deeper and deeper levels, which may or may not lead to an answer, depending on the questions we ask and the answers we seek ... or seek and ye shall find as religious texts say, by the way. Bringing us back to all religions and none, the folly of organising energy as if it were a thing, a noun, not the verb or verbing described here before and taught by mystics of every religion and so on ... 

Meanwhile, lunchtime arrives, perfect timing for Sun low in the South to warm the face and put energy into the solar panels, meaning warm water from the hot tap, since that's the first port of call, not batteries ... as well as home devices using electrical power, hence Henry the Hoover having a trip round the house. The Government pays the blogger quarterly which helps with the bills though whether it matches the price hikes is debatable, though to be fair pensioners receive cold weather payments of £200 and more when we're older, so that's the Baby Boomers, basically. We had it all, even avoiding Wars we had to attend ... until World War 3 was declared in March 2020.

After lunch the first human opened the door and it was Stuart, a young friend who sometimes comes over from Horden Colliery, an hour away by car, to discuss the Nature of Reality ... which we discuss whilst walking along the back road and home via the riverside path, taking much less time this time, and spiralling time is not mentioned, though the Nature of Reality is ... Stuart's story is confidential of course, and if you happen to bump into him in Horden Colliery, if you're lucky he'll tell you how he came to be at A Place to Be just outside Stanhope in the first place.

Now it's getting dark just before 4.30 in late November, meaning it's less than a month before the shortest day, or longest night, so after Christmas festivities are wrapped up, and Happy New Years and the chance to wipe the slate clean and decide how we may make 2022 better than 2021, though to be honest midnight is far too late for an old blogger to wait for better years, when philosophy teaches that Reality is in the Mind and every year, month, week, day, minute or moment is perfectly fine ...

Saturday tomorrow, and maybe another surprise visitor, before Hexham Sunday round the Bandstand near The Abbey ... outdoor Church you might say!

Technical hitches ...

Life School offered an excellent lesson in how to avoid addiction to the virtual world planned for years, as the robots got smarter than the humans. Even during the Camino years a Tablet found room in the rucksack and WiFi was expected in cafes and restaurants and most albergues, though some insisted that the point of pilgrimage was to explore one's own mind and discuss the findings with the other pilgrims and hospitaleros after walking alone connecting with Nature, from which human beings separated when we thought too much and imagined ourselves superior to the other sentient beings ... and if we sensed the numinous, well we called that God, Allah, Jehovah or whatever creator we imagined superior to us, which was a big mistake, especially when organised by power hungry people seeking to dominate the world. So many Wars have been fought between Christians, Muslims, Jews over centuries, you'd think we'd have worked this problem out by now. And Sages through the ages have showed us the way to escape.

So, dear reader, Universe observed an unhealthy attachment to the FB thing, including Messaging, and the problem inherent in any addiction, which is the way the Egoic illusion is reinforced by constant pinging and seeking likes, loves, laughs and other emojis designed to keep us online so the data collected can be aggregated and sold to influence the customer with ads tailored to our specification, not to mention Governments hypotising us into accepting fascism and dangerous drugs designed as bio-weapons to reduce the world population by billions. And if any readers are left wondering where Wear and Dao had gone, which may include the editor, you might think, then blame Universe please, because technical prowess was never my strength, though writing was perhaps, and if Google Blogger agrees to publish this stuff, then all an aspiring writer requires is a reader or two, not to mention an editor!

A quick round up of a week of news, looks very familiar indeed. So first the weather (if you care to Google Here's Tom with the weather, btw, you're sure to find Bill Hicks, the stand-up comic who died years ago, and is famous for his foul mouth, smoking, drinking and philosophy about the nature of reality) ... fine and sunny, turning chilly and great for walking. Next, the Great Reset, with Johnson hanging on despite his clear love of himself and desire to be PM at any price, not to mention Eugenics of course! The Light for November landed least week, meaning a paper round to show Press Freedom was still permitted, leaving sceptics wondering how the psychological warfare was so smart, that threats were enough and no Gestapo required to shoot old bloggers distributing the propaganda. .. evil for sure, once the Scamdemic has been seen as true and evidence reveals the plot. The Stand in the Park at Hexham develops into a table booked at the Abbey Tearooms from 11.30 until 2 ish for My Tribe to organise the Resistance more effectively.

Thursday's sunny and cold, Blewiits cut for lunch, Dawn is later every day until just before Christmas, when it's proper winter and heating is on, plus Black Friday tomorrow signals the need to buy more rubbish at bargain prices ... Saturday maybe a visitor and Sunday Hexham again!

Snow forecast soon, though not just normal snow, but terrible blizzards to scare us again, after the Turkey shortage, fuel shortage and other behavioural insights from advertisers and Governments .. trained psychologists no less ... others earn a crust repairing the damage of serious mental illness caused by ... what? WHO? Why?

Time for lunch ...

Light Switch

It's well known that in places where electricity is available in houses of humans, not free but with wires hidden in walls with switches and places for plugs; when a room is too dark it's easy enough to flick a Light switch. Imagine arriving in such a place from somewhere without such luxuries? It would be magic indeed, and if our guest from abroad tried to push a nail into a plug? Well, dear reader, let me assure you from experience, if you survived 240 volts though your body, you would avoid repeating that mistake ...

Yet when our supply is cut off from the link to the National Grid, where local switches cut local supplies, for planned maintenance, the stress levels of local people rise due to worries about how on Earth they can cope for one day or less without electrical devices. An unplanned power cut raises stress levels higher still, so imagine if the orders were to be issued from Government level to mess with the heads of folks aready wired for Fear after nearly two years of psychological attacks, designed by the Behavioural Insights Team based at Cabinet Office in Whitehall to keep the Shock and Awe phase of the Plan for WW3, Great Reset, 4th Industrial Revolution or however you choose to story it ...

All of which, dear reader, is not written to scare you, on the contrary!  The message from The Light free press is like Wear&Dao the blog you're reading ... please linger no longer in the shadows, the Darkness, just flick that switch and illuminate your room! And for those still attached to accepting stories as factual information, which happens ... all is metaphorical; all the world's a stage, in the cave you fear to enter lies the treasure that you seek ... games people play! That's not Reality at all, but it is fun, though certainly not funny if tragic ... the point is we just happen to have landed on Planet Earth, where human beings live, not always in harmony with each other, let alone the rest of Nature of which we are an integral part ... wholeness or holiness, or Dr David Bohm's brilliant book Wholeness and the Implicate Order ... and since in Duality we explain our world by opposites, an Explicate Order exists, which explains the theory of the holographic universe, or The Cosmic Hologram ... the 3D illusion filling the void inside the expanding edge, where information is held in binary code in 2D ... quantum fields, non-local fields, cosmic universes, Buddha, Lao Tse, Krishna , Karma ... science, spirituality. .. all this theory is in books in a small library on the edge of Stanhope and please try to comprehend, not theories in books, but experience directly as lived by YOU, dear reader!

If All is Divine, and the Divine is in All,
Why are we Humans thinking so small?

That's a question worth exploring. ..

Meanwhile, in Stanhope, Dawn approaches, The Light needs distributing, body needs exercising, and the illusion of time wants passing in a ways of use to the others, not separate as is known ... the choice makes itself when we listen to intuition, gut feeling, heart expanding beyond understanding. ..

Walking time again ...

Suns, Duns, Seals, Seas, St Abbs

Sitting writing this story today, Tuesday, about yesterday, Monday, silently engrossed in the thoughts of elder daughter as newly born, when your old blogger fell in love for the first time, as only a Father can with a Daughter. It happened again 2.5 years later, when her little sister arrived on the scene ... both are nowadays in their early 30s and still my beautiful babies, living close enough geographically for a day trip in a car, and emotionally inclined to enjoy the visit too ...

So, it was just before 6 a.m. when Daisy and I left home in the dark, and dawn come slowly as we drove quickly North up the A68 to the Scottish Border and Jedburgh. We went North-East then, towards Duns, and the sky was aflame above the North Sea. From the West dark clouds brought light rain and a Rainbow arcing over the show.

We arrived about 8.15, just in time for a slug of caffeine and back on the road to Berwick on Tweed, where the boy attends his special school. Swiftly back to Duns and elder daughter is off to the repair shop with Daisy ready to collect her and travel to the coast at St Abbs for a long walk along the cliffs ... Sun was full on and it seemed late Autumn was Spring already it was so warm. On the beach below Grey Seals were delivering their Pups in the Sun.

Lunch at One, sitting outside, was a birthday treat and a second walk led us to the harbour, and a beautifully located Airbnb for future reference. Then back for the boy from school, up the A1 and home for tea with a birthday cake plus elder daughter's wife returned from work.
After that very full day, Daisy and I headed home as the light dropped and moon shone most of the way home.

Today, Tuesday, was also amazing in everyway, though without driving Daisy, who stayed parked all day. And it's nearly bedtime now, so goodnight, sweet dreams and all that nonsense ...

Scorpions

Sunday 14.11.21 was a day full of remembering this year, being the nearest Sunday to 11.11.1918 when the carnage came to an end officially and a tall story was put about that War as a concept was banned for evermore. Optimistic perhaps? Never mind, what's the point of complaining about events unfolding in unexpected ways? Yesterday, at Sele Park, Hexham, there was all sorts going on when this writer of tall stories arrived early celebrate the birthdate of the Heir to the Throne of this Disunited Kingdom, whose current Monarch is rumoured to be making way for Charlie soon, so he can finally have his turn at entertaining the tourists, especially the Yanks, who just love to see what they missed when they hooked our Monarch out and went Republican some decades before.

Bonny Prince Charlie, of course, has a dark side, though it's thought that it was his Dad who commissioned the event that left Prince William and Prince Harry grieving for their beautiful and vulnerable Mother, brought in to shake up the genes of the Saxe Coburgs, and betrayed by Charlie since the woman he always loved was the Lady in Waiting, serving him in many ways, including replacing the love of his Mother, since blue bloods are not known to express fond emotions, due to a missing gene leaving the Saxe Coburgs basically psychopaths.

Meanwhile, back in Hexham, the road was closed and a band was playing God Save the Queen as your blogger arrived with a bag full of Blewitts to share with any Resistance friends willing to risk eating them. That bag was soon empty and reports of any adverse effects are awaited. The band was not playing in the Bandstand however, because a huge artillery gun was being prepared by a team of soldiers ready to fire big bangs to mark the start and finish of the two minutes of silence observed religiously by everyone except small children, who were chastised by their harassed Mother, but no-one else of course. Resistance folks gathered near the bandstand, not to protest but pay respects to the memory of the boys who came home to their Mothers in boxes with medals on them, hence the vow: Never Again!

Many wars later, with many boys and girls coming home in boxes, Officers and other Armed Forces proudly display medals on their chests all round Hexham, to show us how lucky they were to still be alive, having survived holidays in War-torn countries invaded by guess who? Yes, that's us again folks and mostly oil we're after. Scorpion Tanks rely on it, like most vehicles bringing peace to the world. Scorpions astrological have reputations rather dark, some say, though that's not a system followed here at Wear and Dao currently ... though it's vital to stay open to all possibilities including cosmicological! Scorpions have a sting in their tails, so do try not to to step on one ...

Facebook, most pervasive and persuasive addiction know to humans, has its own way of hooking us in, not least by Happy Birthdaying its customers, which puts each one of us at the centre of attention once a year ... and don't blame Zuck, by the way,  he doesn't give a ... thought to us, as long as his shareholders are happy.

Today, Daisy is ready for a full day driving to Scotland to see elder daughter for lunch and walks, and home later, because daughters deserve all the attention they want, from an old father of three score years, plus one ...

Family secrets

In this weekend of remembering the dead heroes from The Great War, or WW1 as it became better known when WW2 came along not long after the Peace Settlement of Paris stripped Germany of the Ruhr and its mineral and industrial base to expand the borders of France, leading to the economic collapse of Germany and the rise of a battle between communist supporters of the infant Soviet Union and national socialism led by an Austrian maniac, vegetarian, teetotal, part Jewish short-arse with a small moustache and only one ball ... well, let's just say the promise of no more War didn't last long at all, did it? In fact troops of many nations invaded the Soviet Union to stop that lot before mutinies stopped the warmongers ...

And so it went on ... was there ever a year without wars between nations from that day to this?
This, by the way, is Saturday 13th day of November 2021, when a friend arrives later, perhaps. Your blogger meanwhile sits writing to entertain you with a personal story, since history and herstory are not always reliable, since the winner's version usually survives longer than the loser's ... and the biggest loser in my history was Great Aunt Em, my Father's auntie, who lived in a big house on Fremantle Road in Southampton, with her brother Frank and little sister Nell, who was a dwarf. Now Auntie Em was tall, thin, strict and kind, whilst Uncle Frank was witty and joked about his right hand without fingers, chopped off in an accident in a factory where he worked, whilst Auntie Nell was spoilt by her siblings, since it wasn't her fault she was born so short.

It was only when my Mother died, after Dad and even after my brother, Frank, who died far to young due to a brain tumour, leaving two Sisters still living, therefore anonymous, and one heir for the antique lump of furniture to be swiftly auctioned off for 3 grand and a nice holiday in Morocco one Christmas ... and before Mum died and we were sorting out the postcards found in the Secretaire, with secret drawers, that Auntie Em's tragedy was revealed.

She fell in love, and the man she was to marry was conscripted and invited to visit France to help kill other young men, with Mothers and Lovers, from Germany, where they all met up for the fight. Before leaving, Auntie Em, the romantic young maiden pledged her troth and offered her maidenhood to her soldier lover, in case it was the last chance to know the joys of sexual intercourse, which, as it turned out it was ... the seed planted by her lover bore fruit, which was a scandal in that family and she gave birth and never saw whether it was a girl or a boy, before it was whisked away to be adopted by a respectably married couple with no baby of their own ... basically kidnapped.

As for Dad's secret, well during his war in Germany as a medic on a motorbike, one day he flew over the handlebars and left one testicle behind; never mind, he survived and knocked out four kids on one cylinder after marrying Mum, a Land Girl doing farm work ... and the rest is history ...

So, dear reader, if you're still reading this tragic tale, thank you for taking the trouble, because a writer by definition needs at least one reader, otherwise this blog would be a secret diary, only to be revealed when the shameful secret could be shared by the world ...

Time for breakfast, still dark here in Stanhope, but Moon was bright last night, so let's have a look out before Dawn. .. a whole new day in Stanhope in Weardale, with friends and strangers to greet just in case it's the last chance for any of us to do so ...one day that's sure to be the case, by the way!

Who knows! Another decade in good health perhaps?

Parallel Health Service Plans ...

The cosmic 11.11 portal duly opened yesterday, and what a day that turned out to be. The very same date marked each year at 11 am by 2 minutes of silence to remember the pointless slaughter of countless young men commanded by brainwashed officers to murder each other, whilst Bishops from various Christian cults urged the protagonists on as if they were football teams, with a World Cup at stake. In the shadows, meanwhile, the Luciferians behind the scenes, blue bloods, plutocrats, psychopaths or whatever you call them, kept the horror show going for four years, in order to reduce the population of the the human beings on Planet Earth by millions.

As is well known, the blood of the boys at Flanders sprang out of the ground as poppies to symbolise the dreadful human sacrifice, and remind the world that enough was enough, never again, no more Wars and other platitudes repeated to this very time, the closest Sunday after 11.11 to be found, since for the followers of Jesus Christ, who rested on Sunday, like his father in heaven, and hollow be his name because hypocrisy is the reason the Churches are empty, except for special occasions, such as weddings and funerals.

Yesterday was fine weather for a glorious walk up the hill to see Sun rising, and returning to complete the writing of this blog and other propaganda, before driving to Durham in plenty of time to collect Mick from the train station at 14.26 ... more than 2 hours to wander about in the beautiful city and enjoy the ambience. The Park and Ride bus left promptly and 5 passengers got on board with our bus passes. 3 wore masks and two did not, and the driver had no mask either. Conversation ensued between the maskless pair, which got more and more radical as we went into the city, with Pat, the 83 year old retired nurse, making herself quite clear what she thought about the fake pandemic. Alighting near the Market Place, we continued awhile, as she explained she'd always been healthy until recently when she was coerced into being jabbed and went to hospital to recover from the adverse effects.

Leaving her there, the Cathedral was the next destination, to see an art installation and wander the fine building looking for God, said to live there. Instead a distraught senior nurse, a specialist in end of life care appeared and she explained her suffering was because she saw evil at her workplace, and that was why she was suspended for speaking out against the shocking treatment of the dying and their relatives. Offering her a message of hope, including news of a parallel health service with ethics and natural remedies across the country, cheered her up and we exchanged contact details, including the link to this very story, which she might be reading with you, dear reader!

Mick was collected from his train and returned to Frosterley, leaving time for reflection and writing of stories on the Facebook thing. With pictures too, which the blog no longer supports due to the hopeless blogger's technical ability.

Today begins a long weekend, with wet weather forecast today, fairer through until Tuesday at least, though nothing's sure with forecasts, but hopefully Monday will be fine for a long walk and lunch at the Northumberland coast with the elder daughter, whilst Sunday, Poppy Day, looks fine for Remembrance near Hexham Abbey with the Resistance by the Bandstand, Saturday still open for events to unfold, like today, Friday 12.11.21 before Dawn and breakfast, then a damp walk to see Sun not rising but obscured by cloud ... probably ...

Parallel Worlds

Having raised the topic of brainwashing, let's now examine the current situation, where ordinary human beings, with the same basic conditioning culturally, family, friends, religions or none, appear to be at loggerheads, dividing into two discrete camps. Basically, both camps are 100% right, which is rather a problem at many levels. Some are so sure they're right that they make enemies of friends, which is barmy. For example, I choose to trust my immune system to keep me healthy and decline the opportunities to risk vaccine injuries, whilst many friends take the risk because they want to travel abroad or think the drug they're taking is actually good for them. Some have changed their minds since landing in hospital with strokes, others continue to deny the bleedin' obvious, because The Guardian said they're safe, and they can't bear to be wrong.

Yes, clearly my flag is nailed up to the mast, and it's not really clear how it happened that the brainwashing of this old blogger was so different to that of my old friend from Red Flag times in London at the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius, when we both worked ardently to train the working class at Chalk Farm Bus Garage for the Socialist Revolution we espoused. Fond memories of those pastimes are obviously processed through complex computer programmes, impossible to describe but I'll try anyway ... and please bear in mind that both he and I are self-confident males today and were then, as far as I remember. In fact we might say that the core trouble makers were four reds of different shades, leaving aside for now the pink socialists who considered the Labour Party worth supporting. Lenin said: The British Bourgeoisie lets power go from one hand, only to catch it with the other! Whilst all four found Marx and Engels to our taste, but the team split ideologically on the question of Stalin and Trotsky. Now Stalin won that battle and commissioned the murder of Trotsky in Mexico, where he was hiding out in case he got an axe through his head, which indeed he did. All of which was cause for dissension in the Harmood Arms where we went for a pint or more after the weekly Trade Union meetings which we four attended, in order to vote for industrial actions and any other business, like which method we might employ that week. Now the Chairman was Dave, who was happy to support the Branch Rep, or Shop Steward, which was yours truly for a year or three, whilst the two Trots, as we called them, or Felix and Harvey as their parents called them, plotted with the two Stalinists, or Marxist- Leninists, as we preferred to be called. Believe it or not, dear reader, we all took this game very seriously and happily collaborated in the revolutionary cause, which was only the overthrow of the British Bourgeoisie for the time being, since it was London where we operated and revolting in Great Britain was quite ambitious enough, without taking over the whole world at once, which was Trotsky's ambition.

Recently Harvey reported on his FB story, that after his booster shot, he landed in bed feeling very poorly indeed, and his old friend advised him to keep off further injections of bio-weapons if he valued his life. He lives in Wales these days, but that's no reason to top yourself, anyway he was born there, though we never called him Taffy. Felix, who later became Branch Rep, was Scots, now lives in South London, and was never called Jock. Dave is still alive in North London in the council flat he lived in then. I really don't know or care what their politics are these days, but clearly Harvey has me marked down as a member of a religious cult, which is funny, since that's the thing I've been avoiding since studying the teachings of Buddha and J. Krishnamurti !

Back to the topic, and I put my hand up to confess to my philosophical error in thinking that peace and love could be achieved through a violent revolution ... means and ends are inseparable after all, so any revolutions for me these days are in the mind, or protesting peacefully, as Martin Luther King and Gandhi taught ... what happened to them, by the way? Anyway, if peace is worth living for, it's worth dying for too ... experience taught me that. Fear of Death? Are you kidding me? Living and dying are inseparable also, and consciousness continues for sure ... at least that's the brainwash created by this little ego called self, and that's the illusion to be realised if it's Freedom we seek ... and if I wake up dead one day? Well, dear reader, logic must tell you it's win win, since this blogger is contented and has been a while ... meanwhile, the game of the humans continues ...

Brain Washing - why not?

The topic for the week, being Tuesday 9.11.21, at least when this post was commenced just before 7 am Greenwich Mean Time if you wish to accept the illusion of linear time as reality, and why not? Most people in so-called civilised countries surely do just that, an error of scientism perhaps, where so-called scientists thought they were gods and could prove anything given time and measuring instruments sufficiently powerful, but not the weakness of human beings in general, which is avarice and the tendency for corruption.

Human beings are anatomically related to other species, which seems clear enough by visiting any zoo, or spending time in the company of dogs, cats, sheep, cows, horses and other warm blooded creatures with skeletons supporting meat, gristle, muscle, veins, arteries and other tubes ,electric wires to fire up the organism and a skull at the top with radio transmitter/receiver of such complexity that human beings whose work is examining the brain are still struggling to comprehend it. For example, your blogger, dear reader, is vaguely aware of this organ in the head, but has never actually seen it, nor images of it, since the only xrays of his organism he's seen are the feet from his time as a child, when shoe shops offered photos of the bones inside to ascertain the size of shoes required. Having on older brother with feet, meant often his shoes were still in good enough condition to allow his brother to wear them, thus saving the problem of softening the leather, not to mention the expense of constantly buying new shoes. Teeth and associated parts of the skull were observed too, but not actually the brain, though other humans have in the search for a thought or the Soul, neither of which have been clearly identified.

Now, cows and bulls have skins holding the body together, so that all the bits and pieces didn't all fall out, and various parts of the inside provided the humans with breakfast, dinner and supper, plus snacks if you were hungry between meals. Other animals are useful to humans in this way too, except for vegetarian types, who weren't keen to eat meat, but that was unusual in those days, though Adolf Hitler was known to prefer vegetables and probably didn't like to kill living creatures so that he could survive. Actually, in some cultures, humans were known to eat meat from other humans, and why not? As long as the other human was dead already, why waste the food, and if the deceased was young and healthy a barbecue was a great way to celebrate victory in battle, whichever side of the fight the dead human was on.

Anyway, dear reader, since by definition you're reading this rubbish, you're already a step ahead of many humans and all other species, as far as we know, though if you have actually seen a cow, bull, sheep or even chimpanzee reading a book, please do get in touch and doctors in white coats will pop over and offer you an injection to help you return to optimal mental health. If this sounds strange to you, my friend, let me assure you these humans are exceedingly strange, and the radio/transmitter receivers in their heads are capable of all sorts of weird behaviours unique to the species, though some humans say men and women are actually a separate species, which is plausible. Adolf, by the way, claimed that human beings were divided into different species too, along with many others, including the ancestors of most humans throughout history, who thought that people like them must be superior to people not like them, which is one the weirdest things about human beings this specimen, dear reader, can imagine ... which, obviously, may only be a lack of imagination on the part of the old blogger writing this shite ...

Well, well, none of this rumination has solved the problems of human beings, has it? Many humans of many different races, religions, genders, intelligence, wisdom, or any of the Words, which by the way, are never the actuality, but just an attempt to point towards something or other ... for example, take a bull in a field full of cows whom he wishes to fertilise by jumping on their backs, when a human being walking by observes the scene. The bull's response, verbally, may indicate to the human that it may be wise to run away as fast as possible before the horny bull's horn gores him, which is never nice, even for an innocent Anthropologist. Strange to relate, many humans from Spain like to sit in stadia watching grown men taunt a bull until it gets cross enough to try to gore one or more of the brave/stupid/cruel matadors or toreadors and kill him. The horse, by the way, is often gored also, and the bull rarely wins, since the game is rigged to ensure maximum fun for the spectators, and minimum injury to the actors. And if you think this story is made up, dear reader, let me describe the scene seen on Camino one day in Estremadura, after a bullfight. The local humans were eating a barbecued bull, with red wine to wash the meat down. After, all, why waste the fresh meat?

That's life concentrated walking the Camino folks, why not try for yourself? The only ambition lurking in the mind of the old blogger is to put in a month or two wandering towards Santiago de Compostela and on to see Fatima at La Espiral Hostel in Fisterra, the end of the earth, and Sun setting in the West again ... maybe in ten years time?

Now it's Wednesday 10.11.21 meaning 11.11 tomorrow, auspicious in numerology they say.

Today it's time for breakfast and a short walk to see if Sun is thinking of rising up over in the East again, as it tends to do on this particular part of the planet. Nothing else planned, which means an empty space to be filled ... that's a way to brainwash yourself you know ... wash it all out regularly, remove all the shite, see what's left, and fill the rest from the imagination! Clearly, logic and common sense tells us that filling that brain or mind with nasty thoughts is bound to make your life nasty, whilst if it's peace and love you seek, well open your eyes dear readers, how hard can it be?

Just wash out the grime, be kind to all you meet, humans, cows, bulls, birds, bees, trees ... not forgetting your self of course ... and see your Life change before your eyes!

Magic indeed ...

Beyond shame

How an Earth is it possible for a retired individual to wake up early each day with only one or two optional events in the diary, sometimes none at all, after sufficient sleeping to regenerate the body cells, and dreamtime to examine the brain cells for signs of senility and dark secrets buried in psyche, maybe karmically, and feel energised and ready for the blessing of yet another bonus day, since the allotted three score years and ten, was attained nearly a year ago ...?

Frankly, writing this rambling prose, plus other stories on more public social media and comments on the stories of others, keeps the brain cells alert and regenerated, since neurogenesis says the best way to avoid Alzheimer's is to stay curious ... and the best way to avoid disease anywhere in the system of human beings is to exercise frequently, eat natural foods sparingly, strip out toxic thoughts by slowing them down, examining each one for any residual value, and discarding any insulting the soul. Of course that was the reason for starting this blog, and the escape from household life to try Freedom From the Known for a while, which indeed reprogrammed the mind by a process of simplification, solitude, awareness and acceptance, starting with me, me, me and arriving close to I Am, which was Liberation from the burden of false ego, and allowing the possibility of transcending even the illusion of individual entities, in stages towards Unity Consciousness, as taught by countless mystics ...

As for shame, well that's part of the whole movement leaving victims of the Once True Faith, consumed with existential guilt, thanks to that system, or cult, brainwashing its adherents to find behaviours perfectly normal to well balanced humans, not to mention other mammals, to be shameful, disgusting and unmentionable, when thinking of the private parts of the amazing body in all its glory ...

Following the Three Women, yesterday, today let's look at the Patriarchy, holding sway for far too long, certainly millennia. A cosmic rebalancing is arriving in the midst of the current crisis or chaos as the Plutocrats, Luciferians, thrash about in despair and The Divine Woman steps forward as the new archetype ... not to infer that it's duality to divide and rule forever, obviously, since many powerful women have allied with the Patriarchy and are seen today, not least Jacinta in New Zealand, acolyte of Blair the War Criminal, whose weird grip on power is slipping as the Kiwis March for Freedom at last. Likewise, Men are always welcomed by the Women taking their power, but not in a leading role please! Look around where you live, do you see these strong women in power in your community! That's been the case for a long time, and thankfully they're not burnt as witches these days ...

Read between the lies in the mainstream this weekend ... what do you see in the headlines? What, Boris in disgrace? Politicians corrupt? Even Cressida Dick, top cop at Scotland Yard and well know graduate of the Common Purpose Cult, is under fire, whilst the Once True Faith falls into a schism with Pope Francis outed as a Luciferian by Archbishop Vigano, demanding his head in the name of God ... yep, there's that bloke again, when will we learn that All is Divine, and the Divine is in All? Call it Pantheism if you like, since we humans love to name things, and many priests, by the way, were tortured by the Inquisition and burnt alive for their heresy, Giordano Bruno for one, and the fairy tales like the Garden of Eden and Original Sin merely metaphors for simple folks unable to grasp the immensity of Reality, and the superpower of each human being realising it ! Beyond all that lies the possibility of Adam and Eve to become One, then on up to groups of folks vibrating at the same frequency evolving into superorganisms, as proposed by Thay at Plum Village and seen in action some years ago by this retired individual, seeking spiritual teachings en route to another Camino de Santiago de Compostela, this time via the coast ...

Dawn is arriving and cloud is forecast with some rain later too, let's see shall we, a walk is a certainty, maybe a visit to a dear friend in the village, some shopping, mushrooms maybe, apples to wrap ... perhaps a surprise visitor later, who knows? Living in the quantum times of impermanence and uncertainty, the Age of Aquarius, the New Earth, is quite exciting ... what do you think, dear reader?

Three Women

After yesterday's risky foray, questioning everything as philosophers are wont to do, my breath was held to see if any readers were offended by my blasphemy and delicate description of the anatomy of Eve, the first female in the Creation Myth, with Adam obviously the first human since Men are generally considered primary, and Women secondary, if not subservient in the Catholic version.

Just to be clear, and fair to God the creator of everthing, he or He, was a bloke also and his luscious grey locks didn't deceive us, nor the long frock ... it was the very long beard that did it. Not to mention the strange linguistic trick of retaining a single syllable, Man, or Male, whilst adding an extra one for Woman or Female ... no wonder some friends accuse me of thinking too much, as if philosophers should actually think less! I think not ... or as Descartes said, I think therefore I am, which was true only in the world of Isaac Newton, with humans so confused they thought that thinking proved their existence ... the Quantum World, of course, shows all is energy expanding, and entities in human form merely holograms in three dimensions, all illusion as the Buddhists taught long before the Newtonian system, before Jesus even, and the Cartesian Error was putting the cart before the horse, where the Horse stands for 5th Dimension reality, Des cartes only the 3rd. ...

Back to the topic of Three Women, and their relevance to Original Sin, and as it's important to be discreet in case of offending one or more of them, let's call them Eve German, Eve Geordie and  Eve Hart ... none, by the way, bearing the forename of Eve or Eva or even Ave Maria, but words are never the entity described, though language is structured somehow to deceive us into thinking it is, and the parents we choose, choose names pleasing them and we are perfectly free to change our identity, legally or merely by teaching associates to employ the pseudonym. Like the Popes always do, and if it's alright for them, then obviously God himself won't object, will he or He?

Now then dear reader, in case you happen to be reading these words designed by a human, being very curious about the meaning of Life in all its dimensions, perspectives, restrictions imposed by censors, including those employed by authorities who find some words offensive and dangerous to public morality and the power they love to flaunt with impunity, like Popes, for example, not to mention late Victorian narrow minded bigots who decided some aspects of Nature's Creation must be labelled Taboo, Heresy, Blasphemy and so on ... such four letter words are rarely employed on this platform, as you may have observed, dear long suffering reader! Why swear, curse or blaspheme when the point may be made more elegantly, with more syllables, sometimes scanning, rhyming or flowing poetically and leaving readers running for dictionaries to verify the definition. Frankly, it's not unknown for your pretentious blogger to make an odd error, through laziness and to create new words, why not? Then again, since Life is a School, words novel to your blogger sometimes pop up in posts describing incredible visions, which occur spectacularly at Sunset, when a few clouds mixed up with Sun offer a transcendent emotion to a lover of the miracle, an opacophile ... that's Eve Hart, by the way, unsurprisingly ... speaking of which, a lover of Sunrising is named a Heliophile, and that describes your blogger, who sometimes skips sunsets, or even the transcendent emotion of Sunrising when trying to describe the indescribable ...

Eve Geordie, meanwhile, requests sloes for her daughter to soak in booze, transforming both alcohol and fruit into delightful drinks much appreciated by friends and family ... so love goes round again and meditation is found in the slow picking of the fruit, a gift beyond measure  and the pickling and drinking is rather pleasant too! Eve Geordie landed in Weardale years ago, from Jarrow, famous for its long march to London to suggest the rich folks down there might care to share some of the profits made by greedy capitalists on the backs of the coal miners, shipbuilders, steel workers and others thrown out of work by those who appropriated the surplus value from the proletariat ... sorry, wrong guru, not that Marx, Karl ... Barbara Marx Hubbard is more to my taste these days, and she's dead now, like Karl and Fred ... leaving Eve Geordie not only a Nurse in Weardale, caring for local people with compassion, but a radical trade union leader, upsetting the bosses since bosses always need to learn how to behave themselves, and managers of the NHS especially ... these days, of course, the flagship of health was sunk by Thatcher and every Prime Minister since, to emerge instead as a lean, keen National Illness Service, infected by viral drug companies so rich their bribery was legendary, and good went bad, as happens, the time between living healthy and dying whilst technically living stretched out ... far too long ... the rest is politics and you can watch U.K. Column News for that, or BBC if you prefer brainwash ... but Eve Geordie is still loved in Weardale for her compassion, and a dear friend of this blogger too!

Eve German, the third one to message yesterday (since this blog rested awhile and today becomes Friday, not Thursday which it was ...) has not been seen in physical form, a beautiful female, for around 20 years., when she was younger  and speaking English perfectly ... at Tamera, the strange community in the Alentejo region of Portugal, rather arid, where a group of Germans and German speakers from Zeg in Berlin, found their free love philosophy rather too free for society, therefore taboo ... today you may find them by googling Tamera as I did decades ago, whilst seeking spiritual guidance eclectically, meaning beyond systems like organised religions, or cults, with Priests, Gurus or any human issuing instructions basically ... K taught that, and even there a cult emerged, and Tamera was no exception as discovered whilst spending one week there listening, learning, observing without judgement, and discerning a cult yet again ... not to mention the near death experience in the sea, one sunny Easter Sunday, drowning at Zambujeira do Mar. .. nearly! Eve German wasn't there, but she heard the story next day, for sure ... as have the poor long suffering readers of Wear and Dao ... yes, there are one or two ... no idea how many ...

Sun's shining, Autumn leaves need sweeping for leaf mould, U.K. Column News is on livestream at 1pm, an option before cleaning up the Retreat House in case Eve Hart turns up this afternoon about 4 which she may do ... nothing's certain in this world of duality, quantum reality, uncertainty principles of Heisenberg et al ... let's wait and see, shall we!