Socialism For Dummies

I know from experience that trying to explain socialism to people who are  convinced by some means or other, that the current world order is the only way to go, will not be swayed by me, so save yourself an apoplectic fit, and skip this post.

I was born in 1950. I survived childhood illnesses, and a brain injury, because of that  great socialist achievement in the U.K: the National Healtn Service, paid for by the contributions of  every working adult through National Insurance. I had a decent home to live in, at a rent my parents could afford, because of  a massive post-war housing programme, initiated by a Labour Government. I was educated for free to University level, thanks to the socialist principle that education is a right, not a privilege, so, yeah, I'm a socialist,  because if nobody had been,  I wouldn't be here. Reason enough?

Sometimes I am asked to defend Communism, being called to account for Stalin's purges. I am easy with that, because calling a Socialist,  a Stalinist, is like equating a mild-mannered member of the Conservative Party with a member of the SS in Nazi Germany. I could do it at a push, but there would be no truth to it.

I could list those things that are anathema to we socialists, who are internationalists by default: empire-building, war-mongering , asset-stripping, despotic regimes. vulture capitalism, environmental destruction and climate-change- denial ... and that's just a beginning. These  are problems that free-market capitalism and neoliberal dogma will exacerbate not solve. But here's a guy who can better explain why socialism will save a world that is otherwise hurtling towards destruction. Take a bow, Jeremy Corbyn:

https://youtu.be/pZvAvNJL-gE

The Eagle and the Butterfly

I am amazingly blessed with my friends, and grateful for the wisdom, joy and opportunities to get ever-so-slightly-drunk together from time to time. Thank you all. 

For the last few weeks I have been staying with Darlene and Steve in Redmond, Washington, chilling out. I lay down all my responsibilities and give myself the luxury of time to think. It is a gift offered to me by my lovely family who will manage very well without me, and the Pollards who welcome me as part of their newly-enlarged clan. 

I lie on a hammock in the shade under a tree full of tiny birds, next to a stream in a ravine, and I pull  myself fully into the presence of God. I am, in my imagination, the noise of the stream, the flight of the tiny birds, the swaying branches of the towering conifers, and I am overwhelmed with joy. 

This is the prayer of the mystics, inhabiting  the space between now and eternity, where I explore the mind of God and shelter in his love.

It is bliss to soar with the eagle drifting upwards in the thermals above Lake Sammamish, and simultaneously float from lily to lily with a swallowtail butterfly busily testing the air for a food plant for it’s young and a welcoming flower to refuel before vanishing from sight.

When I return to England, I will take this moment with me, living the joy of being fully present to the Presence, that is a Holy Communion for everyone. 

NaPoWriMo Day 4: Dying Of Duty

 

Sarah Morley

I am eight. I have not known death

Or childbirth.

Imperial brides, stoic women wedded to the Civil Service, are

Beyond my imagining.

"Bombay" rolled over my tongue, wreathed in mystery.

Arrested by pathos, drawn in by the pillar of cloud

Entranced by the nearness of God in the presence of his angels,

I came face to face with mortality.

"How can it be," I wondered, then, and now,

A woman could embark on a sea voyage

Close to her time, and die of doing her duty.

 

 

 

 

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The Cherry Tree NaPoWriMo Day Three

In the beginning,

Yesterday,

The sun gazed somewhat magnificently, from a bright blue sky, and

My gaze fixed tightly on the cherry tree in the garden next door.

I am certain, as I gaze in wonder, that the day is perfect.

There have been warmer days. Oh yes. On those, I would not leave the coolcave

That is the thick inner room of my English cottage, until the sun had passed over.

There have been days in more exotic places. Forgive me.

If I am, right now, standing besides a cascade in a rain forest, near Oahu

Or leaning over the Tsitsa Falls, near Mtata, with my Xhosa friends.

I am moving now to the school house in Talkeetna, Alaska, listening to the

Shrill Klaxon of the lumber train, from the security of the town library.

Oh yes, I have other lives to bring, and have lived them in superb gratitude.

But yesterday, I spoke God's language, on a frighteningly warm March Day when the sun shone brazenly from a bright sky.

And in that moment, the cherry tree was perfection, and my Self rose, delighted, in thanksgiving.

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