https://www.nytimes.com/2025/02/20/opinion/the-long-strange-trail-of-woke.html?smid=nytcore-android-share

I was drowning in the lily pond so deep

My eyes were closing I would fall asleep

I was drowning in the Lily ponds where you liked to gaze

I was tangled up in all the leaves, no light but a haze.

Then I saw the sun above shining bright so strong

I started to ask questions about where do I belong

It reminds me of Narcissus gazing in the pool

It’s always seemed  a great mistake Narcissus was a fool

But I’ve been gazing at the places where we sat

I think I looked too deeply, I’m like a drowning rat

I want to extricate myself from this lovers trap

When you’re in the water you cannot read a map.

Sometimes struggling makes things worse sometimes it’s an aid

We have to think quite deeply before the decisions made

I found some steps of pinky stone that went into the lake

I gripped the edges with my hands, I climbed up for his sake

I walked away I left to pool I don’t know where I am

I am not going to drown myself for the the death of any man.

At first I could not walk so far but now I’m getting strong

I’m back upon the living earth and that’s where I belong

The water is so tempting it’s like  a mirror bright

But there’s a darkness in that place that blocks out earthly light

Keep your eyes wide open and look out not inside.

For if you don’t you may become one of Narcissus’ brides

F’

I felt very weary after visiting the hospital on Tuesday and they decided not to give me the treatment that they’ve been threatening me with.

Because if you’re not  very well  it can be dangerous.

Nevertheless it was a bit disappointing and yesterday I was feeling very low

In the late afternoon a man came to the door with a parcel from Amazon and he realised how I felt and he said to me something which if it’s said in the wrong way can make you feel worse.

Keep smiling

But the way that he said it was very sympathetic or empathetic so I knew he was not trying to make me pretend to feel better so I wouldn’t upset other people.

No he wanted me to understand that if you smile it can make you feel better.

And in one of the newspapers this morning it sounds that a trial is being carried out in some part of London to see whether watching funny movies can help depressed people more than medication might and it seems there is some evidence for this.

But what interest me is that I have received more kindness from people like this delivery man who look quite poor and do not have the best kind of winter clothing etc

I find some highly educated intellectuals are very cold and the unable to relate to other  let alone to make you feel better.

I wonder if the more abstract  and intellectual your mind becomes, the less you are able to feel the reality of other people and to convey that to them non-verbally.

It’s partly to do with living in your body and being in your body not just in your head

I discovered this when I was helping a lady of 99 with dementia. If I wasn’t present in my body I could not get any response from her at all but when I was it made a tremendous difference.

Instead of swearing at me and calling me names she eventually told me that she loved me and that meant a lot to me more than if someone else might have said it because I think it was very hard for her to say that. At one point she begged me to kill her and when I said I couldn’t she told me I was a coward

I think a lot of it was due to boredom and inactivity and lack of conversation she said to me that each day seemed like a whole year. She didn’t have reading glasses with her I don’t even know whether she had her name but all she had was a television but I don’t think she was watching it much.

I think boredom is very difficult to live with when you are unable to walk about and go out and do things and we don’t realize how hard it is not to be able to do such simple things

Floating like seaweed on the tide,
The final leaves of autumn glide.
The birds ride on the wind’s broad back,
They know no fear and know no lack.
The air is filled with unearned treasure.
My happy heart its wonders measure.
The clouds are deep and dark and grey
What snow storms may they fetch our way?
The sun appears and gives a glow
Of yellow to bare branches low.
Red berries bright,like summer flowers,
Decorate the holly’s natural tower.
Sharp thorns protect the smaller birds,
And from inside,their cheeps are heard.
As dusk arrives the blackbird sings,
So much sweetness nature brings.
I turn my mind from in to out,
I feel salvation for my doubts.
I know that I’m part of a whole,
And with all life I share my soul.
In this peaceful place I rest,
As with love’s eloquence I’m blessed.
There’s singing in my inner heart.
Like bees to flowers,my fears depart

Soul making is a phrase from Keats.{ link to article by Jeffrey C. Johnson in Paris Review]

We saw Wolf Hall on TV recently and it is so wonderful.I am just writing down a few  of my thoughts not  about that but about Anne Boleyn… I meant it to be funny but I could n’t manage that after seeing the play.

ANNE BOLEYN

Anne Boleyn withheld to win
As Henry lusted in his sin.

Once a virgin,sweet Madonna;
Henry turned in rage on her.

She bore him but one living child,
For her quips,she was reviled.

Henry knew not the fault was his
It seems the king had syphilis.

Or Anne was rhesus negative
then just her first born child would live.

We women make our worst mistake
When power for love we wrongly take

Our strength lasts but till we submit.
We need less love and far more wit.

Whatever lusty men may say,
their “love” dies when they get their way.

And they will take their wife by force
As cannons pound on oaken doors.

As for women,we must not
Promise gold we have not got.

Conception is a game of chance;
We come to be by happenstance.

we sin in pride in promising
What only God or Nature bring.

We deceive and trick and charm
At last our hearts bang in alarm

The man who begged upon his knees
Chops off our heads when we displease.

For Emperors and Kings and Lords
Wield fearful power by the sword.

Yet when for judgement they shall stand
How will point the knowing hand?

And just like us they’ll ashen be
When true majesty they see.

Into dust and crumbled ruin
they will go by their own doings.

Each day create with grace your soul.
Cracked shall be the golden bowl.

Keats wrote this extract below [read all by clicking on soul above[ and he died when aged  only 25 years:

I will call the world a School instituted for the purpose of teaching little children to read—I will call the human heart the horn Book used in that School—and I will call the Child able to read, the Soul made from that school and its hornbook. Do you not see how necessary a World of Pains and troubles is to school an Intelligence and make it a soul? A Place where the heart must feel and suffer in a thousand diverse ways!