Written on June 19th 2019 but apparently not published. We 'd been staying a few days in a rented flat, not far from these sights. As I lay awake this morning before getting up, a great procession of thoughts came to visit me. Thoughts? I'm not sure what a thought is. They were dwelling-places of… Continue reading Spaces
Category: spirituality
To Paul, from Vincent
Remembering Paul Maurice Martin Paul writes: One time I think on another blog you jokingly referred to agreeing with me for a change. But I’m not convinced you disagree most of the time so much as that you have your own outlook on life. My sense is that you tend to respond less to the… Continue reading To Paul, from Vincent
A Magical Place
previously published on ian.mulder.clara.net on 5th October 2002 Magic is always available, to everyone. It is made manifest through repetition. First you have to be able to perceive something, a glimmer of something special, in something—whether an object, a place, an event or a person. Then you have to come back and find it again.… Continue reading A Magical Place
A Feather on the Breath of God
I like opening extraordinary and special books at random, such as The Book of Disquiet (Pessoa), Centuries (Traherne) and Anam Ċara (O'Donohue). This is what came up when I did the same with our current book. It's the section titled CAUSES AND CURES, pp 108-11. The four elements That there are only four elements: There… Continue reading A Feather on the Breath of God
Neon or candle light
This is what happened. I'd been soundly asleep till awakened by "someone" coughing, about 1.30 this morning. I went downstairs for a bit, including a "midnight snack" as is my wont, and when I got back the tealight had gone out. We use two or three in the night, it saves turning on my lamp… Continue reading Neon or candle light
Blessed Life
This was written on December 14th, 2014. Back then, such thoughts came that I find astonishing today*. Simply to be alive is such a blessing that we rarely find ourselves able to grasp it. To grasp something is to feel it in the moment, not just as a logical proposition but an experienced reality, that… Continue reading Blessed Life
Engineering and Angels…
... or, the Bench on St Michael's Green written from notes in 2002, when I took my daughter to play tennis with others of her age in Beaconsfield, as insisted by her mother Structure is a male word, relating to that part of the brain which does engineering. It’s related to discipline, in the sense… Continue reading Engineering and Angels…
Escaping from a Festival
We're a bunch of old friends from University days, on our way to somewhere in Wales, in an old Land Rover. Without our copy of The Readers Digest Book of Roads (400 pages), cross-referenced to signposts, we'd have had no chance. Our route takes us up hill and down dale, in a maze of narrow… Continue reading Escaping from a Festival
Delicious, not Precious
Contemplating mortality is not about being prepared to die, it is about being prepared to live. And that is what I am doing now, more freely and more fully than I have since childhood. The cancer has not made life more precious - that would make it seem like something fragile to lock away in… Continue reading Delicious, not Precious
Akin
Gerald Bullett, anthologist of The Testament of Light, writes this of the above excerpt:
While Unsleeping
A kind of liberation ensues when you accept the situation, displeasing as it may be, that you find yourself in at this moment. For example insomnia & remembrance of past mistakes—to name but one. For me, they are synonymous. Liberation is an art, the act of turning something round the other way. To embrace the… Continue reading While Unsleeping
The Free Soul
I've written several times about spiritual writings from the thirteenth century: Meister Eckhart, Julian of Norwich, Margery Kempe. Each risked being fingered by the Inquisition as a heretic, and took steps to demonstrate orthodox obedience to the powerful Catholic Church. Marguerite Porete stands out from the others and is the most interesting by far. Almost… Continue reading The Free Soul
Eternal life on the Desborough Road
After the questionnaire, and further Skype-messaging with the lad (a good way to preserve the minutes of our meetings), it was time to meet Karleen for lunch in the pub. As usual on a Friday, I took along the 2-wheel trolley (“cart” in American). Karleen had already paid for our breadfruit, mangoes, yams & plantains… Continue reading Eternal life on the Desborough Road
Christina in a bookshop
I was dumbfounded: confounded and struck dumb at the same time. It was a congenial place to be, I discovered, being content to stay there a while, sheltered in the dignity and grace of not knowing, that is, shedding false knowledge. But now I find myself wanting to speak, for which I must pay the… Continue reading Christina in a bookshop
Fingers and Moon
I was dumbfounded: confounded and struck dumb at the same time. It was a congenial place to be, I discovered, being content to stay there a while, sheltered in the dignity and grace of not knowing, that is, shedding false knowledge. . . . But now I find myself wanting to speak, for which I… Continue reading Fingers and Moon
The bench on St. Michael’s Green
the bench where I sat Introduction The piece below dates from about 2000, and remains displayed on a website I first created when the cybersphere was young and the web-log had yet to be invented. It belongs to a time when I would drive my daughter to Beaconsfield on a Saturday morning, and sit on… Continue reading The bench on St. Michael’s Green
Anam Ċara
I ended a recent post, “On Being Animal”, with these words: To become animal is to regain Eden. This is why I don’t have a use for the word “spirituality”. I take those words back. In any case they don’t make too much sense. It’s tedious of me to be so pedantic, and something that… Continue reading Anam Ċara
The Call to Service
updates to this post pending, e.g. correction of links - Oct 7th, '25 (being the third of a trilogy on “Religion and Violence”, a theme covered in Karen Armstrong’s latest book, Fields of Blood) Background What I learned about religion in childhood came almost entirely from school. The single exception was a phase when my… Continue reading The Call to Service
At the Blue Note Café
It was dusk, on a winding country road hemmed in by darkening hedgerows on either side. Round a bend, I suddenly saw two mediaeval peasants trudging along at the roadside, bearing staffs and bundles and what looked like bamboo hats on their backs. I was led back in memory to the Blue Note Café by… Continue reading At the Blue Note Café
Stepping aside
I had no thought of doing an audio diary, nor for that matter of producing a music video, let alone combining the two into a hybrid. Some things evolve by accident: you and I for example, if you can believe it, have evolved in exactly that way. Certainly the best things in my life have… Continue reading Stepping aside
Revisit
Rediscovered today I bought this book in Paris fifty years ago. It became a kind of Bible to me, to read and re-read till I grasped its difficult meaning. Years later. in a fit of extreme decluttering I gave it away along with all my other worldly goods; whereby hangs a tale, somewhat related to… Continue reading Revisit
Sacred places
Books I’ve recently read convey snatches of the lore whereby sacred places may be recognized and visited. I find myself wanting to quote from them. But I must refer only to what I know, sketchy or part-submerged in the subconscious as that may be. David Abram for example speaks of certain peoples, on the fringes… Continue reading Sacred places
Infinite are the depths
Some days are special gifts but it takes something else, some extra gift to be able to share them. When I say days, I mean moments within days. And when I say special, I refer to some magic visible only to the inner eye. A day is a torrent of moments which pass us by,… Continue reading Infinite are the depths
On Christmas Eve
The Christmas spirit is a special thing. What is this “Peace on earth, goodwill to all men”? It’s tangible, that’s certain. I always feel that I receive it from others, never that I impart it to them. Or if I do emanate any of the glow, I feel it has been ignited first from a… Continue reading On Christmas Eve
Soul of an animal
The soul is feminine, I mean passive. It initiates nothing, does nothing but feel. It seems helpless to assert itself against will and intellect; like a slug on the sidewalk after rain, defenceless against accidental or deliberate squashing by human feet; or like a majestic brooding silence, the silence of a wilderness, defeated by the… Continue reading Soul of an animal
Panspermia
Ashok in a blog post called Heaven, Scientifically Speaking refers to a theory called Panspermia. He thought I would be interested, or in his words, “excited”. I was in fact curious to ask myself why I am not excited. First his title. To me, Heaven, which featured in my recent post The Grand Scheme of… Continue reading Panspermia
After Rain
It was a Sunday morning in March and I was just 16. I’d been writing an essay on a stanza from a poem by William Wordsworth: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye Fair as a star when only one is shining in the sky I’d been sitting by the warm… Continue reading After Rain
Intrinsic goodness
Back in the Sixties, I first came across some mysterious expressions from the other side of the Atlantic. I was working for a British company whose main rival was IBM. Both companies had built up a customer base selling punched-card equipment based on the nineteenth-century inventions of Herman Hollerith and his one-time colleague James Powers.… Continue reading Intrinsic goodness
Accompaniment
. . . We need to find the deepest reason for our emotions. The clue came in something delivered through my letterbox yesterday: a “journal for all women interested in spirituality, theology, ministry and liturgy”. It’s not my normal reading, but they sent me a complimentary copy in return for publishing one of my recent… Continue reading Accompaniment
Cherry tree
I’ve been wanting to dedicate a whole post to my cherry tree but couldn’t justify it. When commenting on other people’s blogs, I have fewer inhibitions, as in this, to Michael Peverett, re his post “Prunus continued”: . . . I was interested in your prunus pictures because I bought a small fruiting cherry tree… Continue reading Cherry tree
Cherrydown (3)
There’s still a ragbag of memories to share with you about the time I spent in that house. If they have any common theme, I suppose it is wonders and miracles. I’m not saying there actually were any miracles: just incomprehensible things. I mentioned in a previous post that my mother started to suffer from… Continue reading Cherrydown (3)
My true self
Paul had spoken of those who accept the received answers of their religion and find no calling to be seekers. Their satisfaction comes from being in the bosom of a congregation. Cool and detached, I had responded that I would not write about the hypothetical experiences of others, for I would not judge them or… Continue reading My true self
Breakfast Rant
One of the characters in The Secret Agent is Michaelis, the “ticket-of-leave apostle”. Pitifully obese, he finds it difficult to communicate with others having spent his twenty years in jail (judged guilty by association with some terrorist atrocity) developing his own anti-capitalist philosophy. So now he continues his solitude in a cottage provided by a… Continue reading Breakfast Rant
Profane influence
A reader of this blog and heaven-sent friend [Ghetu!], whose anonymity I shall defend to my last breath, unless he declares himself of his own accord, complains to me thus: I have decided to stop reading your blog. It has such a profane influence on me that I have stopped thinking in the way I… Continue reading Profane influence
Good and bad
Jim wrote a comment on my last piece, Human Animal. My response grew into this post. Thanks, Jim, for spotting what was missing! My piece for what it’s worth was partly a spontaneous outpouring though I admit a temptation to think of it as philosophy. I am glad you mention good and bad, Jim. These… Continue reading Good and bad
Confession
Those who want to push their boundaries to the extreme are driven to do so by chronic dissatisfaction, a disease so common these days that it’s seldom diagnosed: but one whose effect on behaviour makes the world unsatisfactory. (paraphrase of the end of my last post) I’m sorry for writing something so confused and unsatisfactory… Continue reading Confession
Maslow’s pyramid
The last few posts have been linked, in a kind of serial discussion. I try to keep individual posts to a tolerable length—about 500 words. This allows breaks for input of comments, which greatly influence the direction we take. It’s an interactive process, “as in life”, like a plant growing in its environment. It’s an… Continue reading Maslow’s pyramid
Spirit
I rediscovered this piece while writing my new post, “Money, health and wisdom are the three pillars of our existence,” says Alistair, whose blog, like Jim’s, often provokes me. My disagreement is immediate and vehement. He invites me to ride my bicycle in the tramlines, but I’m not going there. Instead, I’ll obey the impulse… Continue reading Spirit
Being ready
On Tim Boucher's blog someone says in a comment: The keys to spirituality could not be passed on from the individual revelation if not for what becomes known as religion. As the writer admits, spirituality begins with an individual revelation. Can the essence of that revelation be passed on? No, it has to be experienced… Continue reading Being ready
The Pope & the Koran
It being Sunday, I heard a Christian service on BBC Radio 4, broadcast from a Church of England cathedral, so that its congregation could endorse the standard prayer: “Good morning, God. It’s us again, you remember, the righteous ones. Others may fail you but not us!” The theme for the service was World Peace, the… Continue reading The Pope & the Koran
Zorba the Greek
I’m glad not to have yet seen the film of Zorba the Greek, for it is the book which speaks to me, as I savour a few pages for the first time each day. The film must be full of colour and atmosphere and dancing and dulcimer-playing, but Kazantzakis in the book covers spiritual search… Continue reading Zorba the Greek
The Cosmic Ordering Service
Updated on August 28th, 2025, as Ottokar's is sadly no more I have written on this blog about how I’ve beamed out my needs to the Universe, and had them promptly delivered, like pizza to the doorstep. I was careful not to join the chorus of New Age coaches who proclaim, “You, too, can learn… Continue reading The Cosmic Ordering Service
Intimations of Immortality
I’ve said a few things here about “spirit”, but the other day I felt its reality. I was walking up Desborough Avenue to the intersection with West Wycombe Road. People in their cars were waiting for the lights to change. Pedestrians were on their way to the doctor’s surgery or the clinic next door which… Continue reading Intimations of Immortality
Angels and Grace
Personally, I’m glad to be able to simply say “What happens, happens”. I don't need metaphysical explanations such as Inshallah (if God wills it). Or poetic extravagances like the fall of Lucifer from the angels to end up as Satan, to explain the existence of evil in the world I've always thought there's more to… Continue reading Angels and Grace
The word “spiritual”
Darius commented on my previous post, thus: That response to nature is fascinating to me too. It seems as though while a lot of us have it, some don’t. You almost never hear the spiritual importance of nature brought up in discussions about preserving the environment. “Nor should the spiritual importance of nature be brought… Continue reading The word “spiritual”
New Age Beliefs?
A blogging friend lists 21 characteristic beliefs defining that rather journalistic label “New Age”. Her question is, “How many of these do you agree with?” My answers are in italic. The following are some common — though by no means universal — beliefs found among New Agers:* All humanity, indeed all life, everything in the… Continue reading New Age Beliefs?
Do fish have souls?
The dead mackerel fixed me with one cold eye. I had it on the table to slit its belly, take out its guts. We had much in common: eye, heart, spine and entrails. Its gills equate to my lungs: alternative ways to put oxygen in the blood. When I die my corpse will be just… Continue reading Do fish have souls?
a wayfarer’s notes 