Danny James

Tag: sun

498: The inextinguishable

You are the inextinguishable sun. And it will rain no doubt, and for your magnificent shine that it has weakened may you weep. See your gift is not diminished but altered and evolves a rainbow.

448: Patagonia part 12

You’ll know. When you don’t notice the sunsets behind Her.

Danny James blog in Patagonia

443: Sally in the evening

I was delightfully careless, in this period. Acutely aware of an increase widening near and happy to let my evolution towards its full blanket and assuming occur. I let things lie as howsoever presented, and whatever purpose lie in the kernel had I no regard to discover. Perhaps for reasons wise in retrospect, had I little cause for restlessness here… fewer distractions at least.
Work was fine enough in fact, at times sociably enjoyable and about all the clockwork and responsibleness suited me at this junction of my maturation.

‘I am aimless here,’ I recalled. Calmly, obliviously neutral. Undisturbed by past events and without interpretation of, much less anxiety for what tomorrow offer may. I sleep without plan and wake when I wake, with time plenty for long breakfasts and good books, and I’ve a training schedule down to a finely tuned regularity. There is money saved for whim departures, am furiously independent and present for anyone at any time because though it is still rather early and we are young, these too shall expire. And so I can float from that work and any place, out into the dark and back upon the path to happening upon what it is that I am truly here for if any. You don’t realise that just like a golden Angel at full strength can you actually fly from any place or situation and survive. Not just live, but breathe free and unstaggered, abolished of all worldly restraints. You don’t realise this natural magic possessed until, passed of some clash in the chest and an elaborate reasoning you’ve developed that had suddenly convinced you’re soul it had not the strength to start over again, that many times you simply choose not to.

And by a final initiation of a decided Celestial re-ordering of my life, the very moment I began to investigate these uncharted avenues of thought regarding the wider patterns and cross-sections of what were beginning to weave the outcome of my purpose and final effect in this world, it seemed that suddenly a consistent and consecutive emergence of subtle interventions were engaged, and something quite unimaginable and well-planned had been set in motion. There I was, struck, and urged to take my first step down a corridor of the consciousness that had peeled open out of thin air, or might have been present all the while that had I ready been deemed, might have earlier been sought. Staring vacantly into the ocean of diners that fateful Friday night when through this perplexing and sedative confusion of realities, I heard my name being called..
It began as an echo and ascended upon my reveries cocoon until I was sprung loose of my blissful spell as one is from the womb slowly and regretfully expelled. I turned my attentions with seemingly a vague expectation of a harmony, towards a familiar tone and warmth – like one to a lover in silence turns. That is when I saw Sally approaching. I felt myself at once begin to sink into a peaceful relief I had not for a very long time felt and I saw in Sally’s own surprise, what may have accrued about every bit of excitement as she were capable of experiencing and nothing subdued.

442

All shall be well, friend.

Bondi, 2015

Bondi, 2015

437

The light that shines on everyone is absolutely breathtaking.

“Instead of an intellectual search, there was suddenly a very deep gut feeling that something was different. It occurred when looking at Earth and seeing this blue-and-white planet floating there, and knowing it was orbiting the Sun, seeing that Sun, seeing it set in the background of the very deep black and velvety cosmos, seeing – rather, knowing for sure – that there was a purposefulness of flow, of energy, of time, of space in the cosmos – that it was beyond man’s rational ability to understand, that suddenly there was a non-rational way of understanding that had been beyond my previous experience.
There seems to be more to the universe than random, chaotic, purposeless movement of a collection of molecular particles.

On the return trip home, gazing through 240,000 miles of space toward the stars and the planet from which I had come, I suddenly experienced the universe as intelligent, loving, harmonious.”

  • Edgar D. Mitchell, Lunar Astronaut

420

Duty; to be good, just and useful.

Sacrifice; as in what must you leave behind, in duty.

The love of family.

Are there any other which compels a man to remain? I think not.

Clarity of the senses. Sun, Wind, and Earth.

414: To Himself

No wind was felt or visible. Such quiet has been absent recently and it’s been a while now I figure, since I have stopped long enough to enjoy the changing seasons and fascinate at Nature. Soul, where are you going?

Bondi, 2015

Bondi, 2015

407: Immunity

Not dwelling or striving, but temporarily aside and exempting the heart from all that does not invest in its health. The good men were grave, and yet held always protected a sublime resplendence in reserve for the first ray of morning light over the edge.

401

All this incessant preoccupation with productivity. To be deified of harmonising many errands, an unrelenting metabolism for busyness ever striving and dissatisfied. Success, that mountain with heights supposed upon the climber depends. From what desolation would you escape if arriving at a higher tier of achievement you take the same cold unfulfilled self you brought from the valley? What sits at the summit you have not? How few who reach for the top have filled their depths with the Sunlight.

400: Without complaint

Strange, where can one year place you. Or rather, what winds you no longer permit access to your sails. You recover eventually, when softly serve the seas to your harbour home, past what tempest inflicts its bitter tutelage that they do not cease so much as change in form and verve. The survivors and the tellers of their accounts have these insights passed down many since the very first interruption, – how strong men disappear and all kingdoms become dust. That he who is not prepared for disaster has not yet approached the defining torment of his tenure. Not yet had his greatest efforts curtailed by the instant, his hopes dashed upon the rocks like glass, nor been thrust helpless and broken upon a distant shore to contemplate long and lone, the final fairness of fortune. These are the years a man needs to carve his character and rebuild his principles from which might he rise again to reach for the horizons that hold his home.

I would sit by my window each morning writing letters to my friend, enjoying the pleasing song of the Auroral birds and moments of first sunlight. Soft Spring afternoons walking beneath halls of bristling trees that celebrated along the back streets. Autumns quickening across the Eastern Coastline trails groaning against the cliffs. These were quiet days in Bondi, where my heart did not shudder to where I took it and a calm had prevailed there at long last. Finally had I forgotten myself and saw grow in the warm fading afternoon light, a healthy recognition and respect for my surroundings once more. I felt in and through me, careening every pore and corridor the dynamic current of a deep and satisfying attunement with existence. I saw but only better days ahead, and breathed in long and happy the atmosphere of the life I was living presently and nothing could have thrown my down.

Yet, I had allowed a clumsiness with blessings to defeat me. By not daring to think myself deserving, I found myself quite unprepared for fortunes favour much less the ramifications of abiding my own impossible moral code. I looked for complexity and escape, a trapdoor in the rainbow, a reason to leave, to strive, to discard what peace and guiltlessness had I gathered because I knew not how to no longer struggle. It can be fatiguing being amazed all the time and preferring instead the comfort of falling and familiarity in moments of forgetfulness, you lay down in submission and allow the tensions overlap. I stopped marvelling at the Nature of things and sought instead to turn my back on Nature Herself and leave Her wide-eyed, agape and utterly alone; cut Her off of Her sweet intent, and succour all that would aim to render Her ridden. So I did thus, closed the shades, put down my pen and thought myself right out of the Nirvana in my lap. I strayed, plain and simple. Wandered from all that was possible of life because I was afraid of just what potency of rational spontaneity I did possess, and I do none or myself justice attempting to calculate it now, by fertilizing those plains where none from which but utter desolation grows. Because in the end, nothing is quite as important as you might first think at the time of thinking it. I strayed. The mind its own mountains can make, and one who for none but hindrances seeks so shall create them. What does not endeavour to cast a light across the plains embraces the cold and restriction of the valley floor. I took an interval from the life that I had constructed up to then. I’d packed my books and walked away, stole into woodlands remote and bustling cities not my own. I sought to be silent and welcoming to the ulterior perspectives of poets, philosophers, the vagrants and the drifters all getting along in the ways they new best. To let the thoughts come that Naturally may, that all the rest no grave import might prove and lo, like most things one decides to warp no further with imagination, shall begin to suddenly into its appropriate proportions fade. It needed to become clear again what it was that I did value, and who; What would I withstand for whom I love, what hardship could I absorb to uphold those precepts that I treasure most, and, within the kernel of those reflections I found reasons instead of rules for which to save my place in life and not go sauntering off into the woods resigned. Reasons that would implore me thus to emerge from my hovel with a greater surge of energy and an outlook far grander than ever before, to immerse myself engaged and ready so completely into all the possible experiences that this world as we now know it has to offer, and to make the very most of it all.

Just as at this time last year, there are some fine times ahead that will for many more afterward linger like a last lance of sunlight across the fading meadows of memory. My dear sister and husband have extended an invitation to visit them over Christmas and finally to meet my nieces I have heard so much about. Their cheerful slice of paradise they’ve crafted for themselves resides in the Tropical North Of Queensland among the surrounds of the Atherton Tablelands. I expect hikes in the hills and through the rainforests in search of hidden freshwater streams. Un-hurried walks in the cool shade of dawn, then eggs, coffee and reading on the back patio. Warm evenings in the hammock watching the stars awaken one by one, as the barbecue hisses followed by a gathering of smiling faces, great company, conversation and merriment the much long into the night. There’ll be S, of course. Strong, sassy and quietly brilliant, laying by the fire of our campsite next to the creek that drapes its way among the dunes and wilds, on and on and evermore. S runs along sunsets like a portrait and her bronzed sinews glisten fantastically in the blood orange sun. A few strands of sand-coloured hair escape their bonds and hug her cheek and I’ll want nothing more than to kiss her supple lips and leave my rushing life in Sydney to stay with her on the blanket by the fire. Instead I’ll slowly walk home from visiting with her and it’s the fact that I cannot simply pack up and start over again that makes our time together among the most heart stirring and perfect. Because though everything is now in focus and determined does not presume that it will be entirely likeable and never mind. The evening sky will convulse a haze of violet and glowing tangerine swirls behind the high hills and a gentle breeze will complement the warmth. The Universe and whatever particles make up my soul will seem to be mingled, same and jovial. I’ll finally give way to a smile sincere and knowing that with all the bitter and the balm, the noise and the calm the Universe is just, and all will be well in the end as ever. I’ll be happy and content in this moment with everything to be grateful for and everything to look forward to and I’ll ride this state without complaint unto my home somewhere in the gold and purple sunset.

Cairns, Christmas 2014

Cairns, Christmas 2014