A typical Bonnevaux day. I'm now too tired to describe it, (8.22) so I'm going to bed.
6.00 am wake up. Make porridge, tea. Light kitchen woodburner, revive meditation room fire. crap. wash teeth. smoke one fag. open shutters. feed cats. turn on lights.
7.15 am meditation with Andrew
7.45 am coffee. confab with Andrew and Jean Christophe. Check emails.
8.30 - 9am - start work. Digging out holes for drains, laying pipes, moving waste soil.
11am - coffee
back to work
12.30 - meditate
1 pm lunch
2 pm - resume digging / whatever
4 - 5 pm. stop digging. coffee/tea. snooze / shower / change
6 pm meditate
7 - 8 pm supper
8.30 if poss - go to bed
This morning at 6.30am
My tall window on the first floor
throws light across the east lawn and the dark band of the little river Rhune
and against the trees on the other bank and the hill behind
down on the grass the shadow of my head and shoulders sits huge on the window ledge
and behind on the trees a phantom, a larger, darker shade,
formed by the light on the pale tree trunks
that frame the darkness in the woods on the slope behind
no vanity or vainglory here
just the suggestion of things
larger and darker than my ordinary self,
out there in the night, the future, the past
How to get home and when? and why 'home'? where am I now?
6.00 am wake up. Make porridge, tea. Light kitchen woodburner, revive meditation room fire. crap. wash teeth. smoke one fag. open shutters. feed cats. turn on lights.
7.15 am meditation with Andrew
7.45 am coffee. confab with Andrew and Jean Christophe. Check emails.
8.30 - 9am - start work. Digging out holes for drains, laying pipes, moving waste soil.
11am - coffee
back to work
12.30 - meditate
1 pm lunch
2 pm - resume digging / whatever
4 - 5 pm. stop digging. coffee/tea. snooze / shower / change
6 pm meditate
7 - 8 pm supper
8.30 if poss - go to bed
This morning at 6.30am
My tall window on the first floor
throws light across the east lawn and the dark band of the little river Rhune
and against the trees on the other bank and the hill behind
down on the grass the shadow of my head and shoulders sits huge on the window ledge
and behind on the trees a phantom, a larger, darker shade,
formed by the light on the pale tree trunks
that frame the darkness in the woods on the slope behind
no vanity or vainglory here
just the suggestion of things
larger and darker than my ordinary self,
out there in the night, the future, the past
How to get home and when? and why 'home'? where am I now?
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