June 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
Aha! I have been gone long!
Oh, my friends – what a wonderful time I have been having! My worse leg is now in a cast that I can take on and off, and is making the leg straight again. So I have been learning to walk! At the hospital they are pleased, and I, I am wild with happiness at my good fortune! I have walked a little in the lanes and watched the summer flowers waving in the wind. I have felt again the deep peace of sitting in Nature.
Oh, I shall be writing properly again soon, about all of our little dramas and what is happening, but for now I must simply feel the earth on my bare feet now that I can stand without aid – and lift my voice in praise to my most loving creator, who sees into the deeps of my heart at all times, and is wishing me all good things!
May 19, 2011 § 2 Comments
England is a beautiful country. Of course, there are many beautiful countries in the world, I would love to see the great mountain forests of America, and the vast red deserts and rock formations of there and the Australian Outback. I would love to sail down the pure Arctic rivers, past the little villages on the edge of inhospitable icelands. I would love to be in Italy, and marvel at the ancient hills, dusty roads with their shivering poplars and olive trees. Oh, to travel, the most marvellous thing!
I love capital cities so; Prague, where the Winter is biting cruel but yet still full of tourists jauntily sipping the hot, sugary wine in the charming and beautiful Old Town. I love Krakow, Paris, Dublin not so much, but still good, and now London. What a crazy city London is, what a lovely, vital, filthy, immense, dangerous sense of history, as though it were lead, weighting and warping the air around it. The many books I have read of historical (if perhaps, a more fictional) London are full of wonder, how it has swallowed up all the towns around it, fed its monster with villages and suburbs. The great river, dirty and ancient; with its ships and barges bringing fish and meat and all things from the coast to the leaning tenaments. The cramped alleyways, single glass panes streaked with grime, little cellar theatres and gin bars and green parks frequented by very hardy birds.
I am here because it is not life to remain always in the one place – whether in body or in mind. If a person’s body cannot travel, can their mind wander plains unknown even on this Earth? I wondered with my legs when they were bad what I might do, but resolved to travel the world anway, even if it was on two sticks. But what about the people who need to carry the oxygen and things? Or are paralysed from an accident? How is travel happening in their spirit? I do not know.
My life was stifled and small in my home place. The air is freer here, there is not the sense of oppression I am feeling often. In London, you can be anyone! You can be artist and political and say what you think! You are not subject to the law of a country run by religion – what a silly thing this is – to use any church and its ancient ideals as the seat of government in a modern Earth. The things I am doing here are simply to be true. I know that I am not destined to be great artist, or writer – but I can hope that by expressing all these art things that are the bedrock of my soul, that my seconds here are more meaningful and devoted to happiness than not. In my art also I am coming closer both to other people and to God, and this cannot be a bad thing.
May 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
Indie is out of the hospital and back with us – I do hate to see the pain he has wrought in his soul like twisted metal, but he looks a little better now and is going to alcohol counselling from now on, I am hopeful that this is the start of a new life for him; although I have asked him if he is going to be attending auditions again; and he waved me away like an insect, perhaps it is too raw to think about picking up the thread of his dreams again; but is this not the best way to quench a thirst? To dive into the river?
Jette has still not unbent enough to apologise for her part in the row, and is like a little whirlwind in the house to avoid everyone, slamming doors like a poltergeist. But I have seen Penny, and although things were most awkward, heartbreakingly stiff and formal, I had to cast my pride away and say sorry for being most drunk and stupid. She says I must not worry about a thing, but I sense the distance like a wall of ice between us.
My lover for her is like a candle spluttering, half extinguished by winds. Sometimes I do not think it is merely I who is the ghost in skin, who cannot give of themselves to love because I am living in another and more fantastical world, but many people who are like me; who wish to find love in their heads, in their ideas, and cannot hold the reality of flesh in their arms. Idealising people into who we wish them to be, and not who they are.
I am casting it out with painting, how creativity is the vanquisher of sorrows! They are more experimental than my usual work, and play with bolder colours and abstract lines, there is no focus to them, however, and I feel this is an expression of the lack of focus in me also. Perhaps I am keeping my paintings like a diary instead!
One of the other reasons I named myself Cairo is the meaning of it, that is Victorious. I will be, I am victorious in life. I am winning all the little battles that rage in my heart, my mind, although sometimes the armies are thick and heaving, and it is hard to see who is best. But I, in my little room, with my diaries and canvasses and the so tiny songbirds outside who sing soothingly to me in the darkest places, I am the victor. I must be – else, what meaning can there be in such a cramped and insecure half- life?
May 18, 2011 § 3 Comments
Since this awful row I have been in limbo. I am so angry at myself, I feel like the ungrateful child, I have hidden my face from God in shame. How can I have let this distract me from my ultimate joy, that I am to be healed in my legs? How can I have let this row steer me from my gratitude? I am so happy for myself, perhaps after all this time I almost cannot believe it, my good fortune, and seek to distract myself in case it is taken away from me again. I do not know. I only know that this has knocked me a little from my course, and I have spent an hour in church this morning trying to put it right.
Oh, but how I wish I could be simply happy! I am radiant with love for God for putting my legs right, and torn by love of a woman. How silly of me to let this conflict get to me so, I should be only thankful and rise above the rest. Without the human love, though, do we wither? Sometimes I think that oh! Without the steps of a loved one upon the soil, what a hollowness there is in everything! But I must put this longing from my heart and only look at the beautiful flowers of the emerging Summer, and let my heart fill with joy again at the happier twists and turns of my life.
May 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
Today, I am transported to heaven! The doctors have seen my legs and done incredible scans with their machinery, and have told me that I will walk properly again with much help. I am so happy, my heart has flung itself open – a jealous door I have been guarding over my year of anxiety and sorrow over this – as a flower with a thousand petals! The sun upon my face is the kiss of my silent Angels, who have held me in their grave and gentle wisdom over this awful time. I am laughing like a God gazing on the yellow corn as it ripples in the wind, or hurling lightning from the mountaintop. I am thanking myself and the universe as the co-creators of my life, I am sending love from the spring of my heart to everyone who has need of it, my heart unfolds into the corners of space and the stars are laughing with me in joy.
I sound mad, I suppose, and today I am, mad with happiness; as though a great, deep ocean were before me, and I have run to its edge and thrown myself in, surrounded by cool, clear water and the beautiful mysteries of the undersea. I am eating strawberries, and the red juiciness of them, their rich colour is as bright as a jewel. I am finding the little joys of the world amazing most days, but on this day, even the birds singing are like little fanfares that play ‘Well done, Cairo, it is a long, difficult road, but you walking it like a King.’
May 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
The idea of happiness being a thing to strive for and win like a prize, instead of the thing that is always in you if you know how to look, is I think, one of the great obstacles to the human contentment. We think we will find happiness if we move away to the country, or get married, or are rich. I’m sure that these things do contribute to how much a person is enjoying their life, of course, but they are not little milestones on the way to the mythical city called Happiness!
I have a few things that always remind me of my own innate joys and makes me full of God again. I would like to share them with anyone reading this diary so that they can use them if they like.
Kovalski’s Happiness List:
* Give your things away.
I do not need so many things. They are creeping up on me like little mountains of items picked up hastily in charity shops and bookplaces. What drives me to keep clothes and things I don’t need? Is it a sentimental feeling? Do I wish to remain the person who wore those cool trousers forever? These books I will not read again, why are they still here? Little things, bits of memory, clutter. Get it out, be light in how your possessions weigh upon your life, otherwise they will drag you down with their weight. I do keep all my canvasses though because this is my art.
* Look at little miracles as though they are big miracles.
Yesterday in the graveyard I am sitting next to a patch of wild violets, their purple in the sunshine incredible, and all around lush grass so emerald. The petals of the tiny flowers so perfect and intricate, and then a butterfly white with little dark patterns traced upon its wings landed briefly touching the earth. The love put into every fine detail of these little things made me strange with awe. Somewhere above my head galaxies of a million beautiful stars are moving, and here I am with the tiny perfect flowers, and my heart was full of the mysterious power of creation. This is what I mean by the big miracles in little things.
* Making friends with suffering.
Suffering hurts, I have nearly died many times, through illness and accidents, and now my legs mean I cannot walk far. I am having madness sometimes, too. But I have tried to make friends with my suffering, and learn from it that no pain is bigger or more powerful than my heart. Nobody is alone in their pains, we are all experiencing deep sorrow, and a person may have less or more sorrow than you. It is good if you believe in God and our selves as God also, to remind your self that you know what you are doing, and the reason will become clear to you for your sufferings in the long evolving of your life.
* Remembering what it is all about.
If you are of the spiritual and artistic mind, then what it is about is Love of God, helping the world be better and enjoying and realising the experience of being your self through immense creativity. It is easy to be forgetting this when the suffering and the amnesia of living are upon you.
* Watch your thoughts.
Sometimes your thoughts will be running away with you and taking you to anxious and bad places. It is good to watch your thoughts, and laugh at them when they are misbehaving. The neurons on your head are really quite plastic and will burn little synapses and things wherever you tell them, when you are mastering your thoughts, your brain is rewiring itself into a happier being.
There are some of my secrets for being happiness.
May 9, 2011 § 1 Comment
I am praying that my appointment at the hospital goes well next week. As I visited the church, I dragged myself and my reluctant legs out into the graveyard; looking at all the stones time has weathered, all the mounds of grass where bones are quietly melting into the soil. I saw in the eye of my mind the skeletons under the earth, sleeping forever, and thought about no matter what we are dealt in life’s game, we all end up here one day.
This thought is morbid for a nice day, no? But I do not think so – I was sitting by a patch of the most delicate purple violets, come to a vibrant life under the gaze of the Sun. I saw the little roots of the pretty plants reaching into the earth where the people are resting, and I was happy in my little quiet moment thinking much about the Infinite. The Angels are still not telling me anything about what will happen to my legs, and I must learn more to detach. A thing happened at the weekend that gave me the fresh sight, that one of my housemates left the gas on during the night.
I thought, after I had profusely thanked God that we had not died in an explosion, how sadly ironic it would have been, to have spent my last days fretting and worrying about my future next week, when such a future may have been wiped out in a heartbeat this weekend! How stupid, I said to myself, what will be will make itself known in good time, and these near misses must only highlight how futile the anxious state! Does the gnawing of fingernails and the biting of lips prolong our little lives by even the one second? How reminded I am to thank God for all of my precious seconds!