The excitement and for me the beauty of yesterdays snow has given way to misty rain and grey cloud this campervan morning. The dreich like droplets give way to larger rain, which in turn gives way to a proper down pour. Starlings in the trees and gulls cry as they circle above me. The chill of yesterday replaced by a much milder morning. The soundscape giving way to heavier rain on roof, grass and hedge and soon to force a retreat inside if it persists, and it does. Reflecting on yesterdays beautiful walk in the snow and now sitting in persistent rain and reflecting on what I term black and white days, which came to as I walked in snow. I love the extremes of the ice and snow and at the other end of the spectrum the sun and the heat. It’s living in the greyness in the middle that throws me a little. Boundaries that allow me to know where I stand and what to expect, the bit in the middle is the difficult bit. I know and have worked with people who are fabulous at the grey stuff ( The stuff in the middle ). They thrive in it, or at least give the impression that they do. The firmness of the black and white is where I tend to reside, the comfort zone, where I know where I am at, what I need to do and how to do it. I don’t do grey very well, but I understand that’s where the growth is. The sense of vulnerability in the grey area. However as Freud once wrote :
“ Out of your vulnerabilities will come your strength.”
It was pointed out to me in a conversation with a friend yesterday that my black and white was once also my grey, but I am not so sure. My parents were very safe people, non risk takers, very black and white and I am sure a good percentage of my need for black and white comes from them. There is a longer story here, but that is not for these pages, however you get the drift. We are after all products of our past, but we don’t have to live by those rules, or be a prisoner to them. I am in the process of stepping into a huge grey area, so perhaps that’s where these thoughts are coming from. The security of a bit of black and white, in fact I think we all need from time to time the security of a bit of black and white. Lovely days people.
“Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds' wings.”
Jelaluddin Rumi.
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