Introduction

[Guest guest]

Some time ago newcomers were invited to introduce themselves. I was a bit

too shy to do this earlier.

 

So hello, all.

 

I'm 42. I'm half English, nearly half German, living in England. I have a

degree in Psychology, am a qualified Hypnotherapist (non-practicing at

present), and do a busy job training and supporting people in software. I'm

a latecomer to the net, and lists, and I appreciate your patience with my

naivete or lack of etiquette.

 

I love music. I used to play in bands, and improvising music has a deep

dimension for me. I have started to play computers and synths, which is

becoming veeerry interesting... I like the tribal nature of dance music,

and the possibilities for exploration. Less live improvisation, but that'll

come...

 

I've been following a spiritual path, oh, since I got here (possibly

earlier , consciously since 1973. Couldn't get around it. It's been a

tragi-comedy of errors sometimes, and I'm still here... I'm not following

a guru, though I have taken instruction and learned from some interesting

people. To keep it simple, I've been blessed with some hard lessons, and I

have received grace. I seem presently to be on a path of replacing fear

with love. I wish for more energy to be all that this leads me to. More

than that I find hard to describe...

 

 

 

As a seagull reels in air

As sunlight careens across a shimmering morning

As the moon arabesques slowly from behind a frozen breath of night

As a crow calls to its kin

So am I called.

 

As royal waves pouring onto the crackling beach

As this small puddle puts the sky at your feet

As a trenchcoat rain hums a sultry lullaby

As a slow river nurtures swans

So am I nurtured.

 

As the heart sings the body

As a campfire hands life warmth

As the signalling flare of a lover's alleyway match

As a billion bursting suns on a summer's night

So am I loved.

 

As a beeline threading through mist-ringed hills

As a line of old poplars keening for heaven's heart

As the gap between the joy of asking and the illusion of owning the answer

As a jester's cap sprawled in a dusty, silent corner of a bustling palace

As God is a musician

As a child picks up a pen to write the world

So am I.

 

 

 

 

'Scuse the verbiage...

Love,

 

Rob