everything has its place

Everything is impermanent

this is a constant topic of discussion between michael and kahina.  i have not met anyone so desirous to be exclusively concerned with the present moment.  it is like they want to erase the word tomorrow from their vocabulary, from their lived experience.  if anybody mentions that word, they say,

tomorrow? i don't know
i am here and now.

when talking about the idea of knowing people, for example, they say that they know someone as soon as they meet them.  at that moment they perceive all they need to know regarding who the person is.

i find this attitude naive and at times think about challenging them, but at the same time i admire their passion.  i find it infectious and mostly end up wanting to live right in the present just like them.

they have lots of joie de vivre.  they are from france.  they are young.  i don't think they have crossed the threshold of twenty years.  they are spiritually passionate.  their have given over their lives to experiencing the tooing and froing of the material world shifting through us.  experiencing and accepting.  every thing which is experienced in the present is accepted.

first i saw them when they were sitting on the street playing the didgeridoo.  a brief flash of sunshine from kaina's eyes.  after twenty seconds i turned around and returned to feel more of their warm sunshine.  we sang together the french version of "the bare necessitites"   while i played the ukulele

il en faut peu pour etre heureux, vraiment tres peu pour etre heureux 
il faut se satisfaire du necessaire
un peu d'eau fraiche et de verdures
que nous prodigue la nature
quelques rayons de miel et du soleil

it really takes very little to be happy

over time those groovy seventh chords got under our skin and with our hearts we sang out the message of simple happy living in nature.

next i bumped into them on new years eve in the park.  they had hung up their hammocks and installed a large matress in one of the trees, upon which i slept that night.  gil was with them.  

every thing has its place

and every place has its thing

gil told me this was something his chemistry teacher used to say.

some days later i bumped into gil at the marina.  at that moment he too was looking for sailing boats for crossing the ocean.  the rain came pouring down and our plan to sleep out on the beach turned into sheltering under the palm leaf caban.  when michael and kahina turned up the next day, we gradually set about building our scara brae dwellings, heaving large black glistening porous volcanic rocks from the seafront to construct semicircular windbreaker walls and a sheltered spot for the fire.  

everything finds its place.

a big log came floating from the sea

and gave us a seat by the fire

our energies, our intentions, our eager aliveness 

mingled and rose up

alert

curious

what will happen before the next inbreath?
my heart beats

the sea is always there

providing us with voluptuous pebble-churning breakers

flying white froth

catching my breath.

or gentle little swells

beyond which 

you float into the glistening expanse

i  you  we
i

return to the fire

and a cup of hierba mate

and who knows who had just returned from a tour around town?

bringing back fruit and bread and waist coats and triangular pirate hats and who knows what else among the masses of unwanted objects which the masses of people call rubbish.  

trash.
my heart tightens with uneasy resignation
when i see with how much non-love
the people throw around the unwanted things of the world
every day
the containers end up overflowing with stuff.
why are these objects produced in the first place if so shortly after they are discarded?
it is not funny.
television sets and
countless brand new leather boots
i could adorn myself with a smart new outfit every day
just by rummaging in the waste containers
of santa cruz de tenerife.

instead, let us love the Earth and all of her objects
the concepts rubbish waste unwanted need not exist
let us let everything be natural
let us live simply

my voice is earnest
but it is a small voice amid all those buzzing with runaway consumerism


give your love to anything and it will give its love to you in return.

i realise the truth of this
as i whisper "ciao bella" to my lover the moon
la luna radiates coyly on high
"it is so good to see you tonight" i confide to her ecstatically
"you are so beautiful"
while she radiates back to me her tender ancient love.

local resident alberto likes to talk about spirituality with us.   i think he considers himself a sort of father or grandfather or guru of ours.  he comes in the evening with a bag of oranges and 5 litres of drinking water.  the topic he constantly returns to is the heart.
living from the heart.   love.   sharing.   unity.
he says that we have formed a sangha.  he says that this words is sanskrit and means community.  one evening he decides to spend the night with us.  he does not have a sleeping bag so we give him a spare blanket and he lies close to me to keep warm.  he suggests that we sleep with our heads pointing north and our feet pointing south.  in the morning i ask him why.  he talks about the strong energy currents flowing between the poles and how aligning one's body with these produces a more restful sleep.

a sleep.
asleep.

other people are interested in our beach community.  vladko from estonia joined us and we busied to and fro, gathering stones to add a little semicirulcar wing for him.  aitor from barcelona came one night.  he had arrived in tenerife that day in an airplane.  alberto saw his rucksack bobbing along the street and invited him to visit.  the next morning at first light he was off, full of Wanderlust for exploring the island by foot.

from the high path they take photos of the flower mandala we have designed with stones.  pillars of balancing stones placed in strategic positions rise to the sky.  every time i catch sight of one of those pillars over my shoulder i feel the presence of a real person.  they take photos of the LOVE we have spelled out on the sand with stones.  we wave to them and they wave back.  

the night guard in the adjacent private park can sometimes be seen standing silently observing us.  more than once he called out:  "put out that fire or i will call the police."     one night the police came and observed us with curiosity.  they mumbled "no fires."   they were curious.

our fluid happenstance flow was interrupted by bruno's arrival last night while we were sleeping.  he woke me up by striking me with a foam stick and giving me roguish shakes all over.  i could see that he was burning with some sort of inner excitement, but i couldn't help but frown at his disrespect for those who have already given themselves over to the sweet embrace of sleep.  the next morning we saw that he had burned all the wood we had collected, given our food to his dog, messed up our mandala and had even gone as far as using all our olive oil to produce big flames.   as the morning wore on, i stressed to him how disrespectful his behaviour had been, but his only response was an exasperated,
"i know, how many times do you have to say that? i have already said sorry"

young local resident bruno was the one who made the first little stone shelter on the beach about a week ago.  at that time i was sleeping alone on the nearby hill under the palm trees.  it was only when i met gil that we came to enlarge the beach dwelling and allow our residence to settle there.  bruno, however - despite welcoming our company - felt that that beach dwelling was his idea.  he wanted the liberty of living the way he wanted on his beach.

"i don't understand why he did that"  said gil.

a moment of silence

"maybe it was to keep us permanently aware of the impermanence of everything"

"we are thinking of leaving today" i inform alberto.

"speak to bruno," urges alberto.  "he has a big heart, but he is like a little child.  he still has a lot to learn.  he could learn a lot from you if you stay"

"we are travellers," i say, "sooner or later we would be moving on anyway"

before we leave, gil can be seen sitting and talking with bruno.

later gil tells me that bruno admitted to having taken cocaine that night.

i was almost glad to receive that explanation.  to know that such disrespectfulness was not bruno's natural state.