Following the uncertainty, a message arrives from Britland ... young refugees seeking warmer winters await their landlord's inspection of the flat they are vacating ... a precursor to the sometimes tricky business of recovering the deposit ... one of the games of the curse of private letting, fuelled by property speculation, buy-to-let investors, housing benefit and greed ... and news that they hope to arrive around the 24th of this month .... which spurs your blogger into action ... a kind offer of interim casa and cat care enabling the French connection ...a direct and cheap flight to Bordeaux next Saturday morning and arrival at Ciblat later the same day .... a week or so before the refugees arrive, with even that maybe dragging on ... some unrushed time catching up with regular reader and friend from the north, Colin .... before starting the long walk from Irun to the end of the earth (as the early wanderers perceived it) via Santiago de Compostela ... then south through Portugal for the winter ... maybe a visit to Plum Village Buddhist community near the new location, along the way ... though plans change, of course ...
Reflecting on this summer sojourn in San Enrique, the fine intentions to learn Spanish and study the heavy books brought along for the purpose - David Bohm, J. Krishnamurti, Rupert Sheldrake, Fritjof Capra ... none of which have been accomplished ... and though flagellation is not my style, self-awareness without self-criticism is ... musing upon the laziness, a local philosopher spoke about the Taoist story of the student asking the teacher what he was doing ... Nothing, came the reply ... the next day the same question, and the same answer .... But you were doing nothing yesterday, protested the student ... Yes, I haven't finished yet, was the reply ... doing nothing being an art little practised in busy modern living, where even leisure time is programmed and commoditised ...
The Casa has been a perfect place for doing nothing ... tucked away up a hill with almost no visitors - post has to be collected from Guadiaro, rubbish dropped in communal bins, neighbours friendly and private ... music and television eschewed ... occasional breaks from doing nothing with light reading of detective novels, the internet, writing, visiting the two long time English refugees who have kept me grounded, albeit with some esoteric information ... and plenty of walking, which is perhaps doing nothing in motion ... all of which has relaxed the mind and enabled time itself to change its character ... not easy to explain, so just allow it and maybe try for yourself ...
Five months have passed somehow, without boredom or achievement ... welcome visits from time to time ... much valued correspondents ... fit in body and mind ... ready for the next adventure ... grateful for all of it ... the peaceful pensioner life ...
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