I’ve never done anything but dream. This, and this alone, has been the meaning of my life. My only real concern has been my inner life. FERNANDO PESSOA

Thursday, 28 October 2010

Walking Through The Past


Following on from yesterday's post, it's occurred to me that not everyone may know the 10-part meditative sequence I did on my childhood environs: reminiscences which are ambulatory, geographical, historical, personal and familial. I wrote this in an intensely emotional and reflective time during the summer of 2009. I'd been staying on my own for a few months at my father's house, my old family home, preparing it for sale after my father's death earlier that year. Here are the links...

1. Ur-Walk

2. A View From The Bridge

3. Warped

4. Common Wealth And Common Ground

5. Listening To The Silence

6. The Secret Wood

7. Sex, Death And The Path Less Travelled

8. The Miller's Tale: A Man And His Machine

9. Valedictory

10. Solvitur Ambulando

10 comments:

Ruth said...

This is great, Robert. Thank you! I will get to each of these as I can in the next few days.

I'm intrigued. Just the phrase "meditative sequence" is alluring.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I think it is a good idea to revisit one's past, particularly if there are difficult things in it. Somehow, revisiting and facing one#s demons has the effect of lessening the impact I find. Hope you found that too Robert. Love

George said...

I read through each of these postings and was quite moved. From my perspective, this was a courageous thing for you to do — to revisit the past on such an intimate level and to open yourself to the painful moments of which you have spoken. Overriding everything, however, is this incredible homestead and landscape that were yours for a moment in time. I suspect that your childhood years, notwithstanding some difficult times, will never be far from your heart.

ksam said...

Truly a terrific series. The musical piece was really exceptional, I've never heard her before, but will look for more. And the last one with the picture of the gate, brought tears, and I'm not sure which, or maybe both happy and sad. I think mostly happy, because something in it was also exciting and invitational, come out into the great beautiful world out there, come out and explore.

Cloudia said...

Happy to find your extraordinary blog, fellow walker.




Aloha from Honolulu

Comfort Spiral

><}}(°>

Bonnie said...

Thank you Robert ... I will check these out. That must have been quite a period of reflection for you alone in your father's home. Permitting ourselves such golden, though difficult, sojourns surely builds character and hopefully compassion for ourself and the dear folks who did their best (inadequate though it may have been) to raise us.

Friko said...

I have not reached the end of the walk, but I will do so and accompany you on an emotional journey.

Taking such a walk is a good thing to do.

The Solitary Walker said...

Glad you are enjoying them, Ruth.

Pat, facing one's demons lessens their impact. That's absolutely right, Pat.

George, my relationship with my childhood past is fraught, but also fantastically succouring. I hope these posts brought that across. Not so much courageous, perhaps, as necessary.

Karin - I'm pleased the postings moved you in some way. June Tabor, who sings that song about England, is a fabuous singer and interpreter of songs. I worked with her once for a short while in a London public library before she became famous!

Cloudia - welcome! And thanks for your comment.

Bonnie - I think 'golden, though difficult' sums it up exactly.

And Friko - thanks for reading. Walks can sometimes be such emotional roller-coasters, can't they?

Tramp said...

SW
Quite a walk and quite a read. I am going through an introspective phase at the moment, questioning who I actually am. That might sound strange but that's as close to it as I can explain. Reading this has been a great help to me. Many thanks.
...Tramp

The Solitary Walker said...

Tramp, I'm so touched you found something in these childhood reminisecences that touched you.