The Autumn Newsletter

For the gardener at Temenos, March 23^rd is a day of great celebration.  It heralds the arrival of autumn and the beginning of the crisp, clear and cool months that McGregor so perfectly offers.

This morning while ambling along our winding paths I had the distinct sense that the garden was celebrating with me. The long testing days of summer are gently retreating and giving way to a softer light and the promise of rest. It is as if nature herself has become weary of holding onto the fullness that summer so generously brought. One can almost feel the release of her long out - breath. There is no rush.  Just one lingering stretch as she prepares to let go into her slow retreat.

Sitting in The Well before meditation my eyes chanced upon the painting of the bear on one of the tiles facing west. Nine years ago Roselle Mazetti, a beloved friend of our garden, painted around the well itself four animals that for the North American indigenous peoples symbolized the different seasons we ourselves move through, not only in the outer world, but in the inner landscape of our souls.

In the kingdom of spirit- animals the bear represents autumn.  As a creature in touch with the earth and the cycles of nature the animal has timelessly been acknowledged as a powerful spirit guide in supporting physical and emotional healing.  Bear medicine therefore emphasizes the need to reflect and recollect. For this one may be called to times of solitude, quiet time and rest.

Only recently I returned from my own annual silent retreat. What a rich time it was!  As always it proved to be challenging, comforting, inspiring, enlightening. Silence and solitude bring so many gifts to those willing to respond to their invitation. As we retreat from all our outward activity and come to stillness, the golden opportunity to see ourselves more clearly inevitably arises.  Sometimes we are taken aback.  We become aware of the subtle motivations and values behind how we live. We may even notice what remains unrecognized or unacknowledged within ourselves or what are our surfacing fears and insecurities are really saying?  Perhaps too we may glimpse our unhealed wounds or our forgotten dreams. If we have the courage and strength of the bear to meet adversity and to trust this time of hibernation, the season will doubtless enrich our soul. We may even begin to sew anew, within ourselves and the world around us, the seeds of compassion and Love. How well I have come to know the inner figures that may pitch up on my retreat in need of compassion. The cynic, he saboteur, the unknown ones, the vulnerable and the wise ones - all good old friends ever inviting me to a deeper encounter with myself, and the Beloved.

I smile. I must not forget the playful one!  Humour invariably waits for those who frequent the trail of retreat. What relief, after a lifetime of withdrawing to monasteries  or sitting high on a  solitary mountain or in a tent in the desert,  to finally discover the paradoxical art of taking oneself very seriously and not seriously at all.

So, like Basho, I celebrate the season!

‘Autumn nears

and my heart is drawn

to a four-mat room’ 

            

May you too this autumn find the time to withdraw and rest awhile - whether you retreat to a corner of your bedroom or your garden, or to the freedom of the hills. A place set aside to honour silence, simplicity and solitude. You deserve the gift.

Deep peace of the falling leaves to you.

With love,

Billy

Winter, my favourite season in McGregor

Now that our first Poetry festival has come and gone - a huge thank you for the wonderful feedback our committee has been receiving - I can once again return to a more contemplative lifestyle. For me this will mean retracing a gentle rhythm to my day and allowing for much more time to rest in the Beloved. What better season than now, like nature itself at this time of year, to retreat and be still?

Winter is my favourite season in McGregor. I love the fresh, exhilarating crispness in the air and at the same time the warm sunshine. I particularly enjoy strolling unhurriedly through the resting gardens contemplating what needs to be taken care of. Of course the outer world frequently reflects what needs to be done in the inner one. We all need time to rest but also to take stock. Winter brings the gift not only of gentle reflection, but patience too. Spring and summer will inevitably return but until they do we have the opportunity of sitting in front of a blazing fire, sometimes with our loved ones and sometimes just gently with ourselves.

‘At the back-end of time

Leaf- fall of lives, dwindling of the great tree

To the acorn of forests, returning

To the nothing of all that is,

The seasons, the leaves, the loves,

Song to its source, soul to its star –

Winter’s recollection of worlds to be’

(Kathleen Raine)

For those of who also enjoy strolling through your wintry gardens, here are a few tips from the gardener at Temenos.

This is the time to scatter your Poppy seeds if you want a carpet of red and pink and mauve in the springtime. The bright yellow and orange of the Calendulae will be rewarding you at this time of year if you already rediscovered the delight of  ‘old fashioned’ flowers like Dahlias and Zinnias. (These two will also give you a carpet of colour a little later in the year after the poppies have faded). Three other brave souls that will grow through the winter are Cabbage, Swiss chard and Leeks. The latter I leave to flower in spring and summer, a joy few gardeners are willing to wait for.

And here is a tip on pruning which I got from a wonderful book called the Art of Mindful Gardening by Ark Redwood. If you follow his easy formula, which you can apply to most plants and trees, you will have no problem convincing your friends (including yourself) that you know what you are doing! This is known as following the 5 Ds.  Look out for the Dead and Dying, the Diseased and Deformed. And become aware of Direction. Enjoy applying the art.

Wind blew, branches fell

God’s hand busy at pruning

That which was long dead.

Take heart my friends who dare to dream

I can still recall the astonished look on the faces of some of my friends. A Poetry festival! Who would come to a Poetry Festival? Even in our poetic village of Mcgregor there were those residents who could not hide their skeptical frowns. Worst of all was the frequent reaction ‘I don’t like poetry so you won’t  be seeing me!’. Indeed at times it began to feel as if I lived on another planet. I had grown up with poetry. Poetry defined my life’s journey. It had become the language of my soul. Yet suddenly I was at a loss for words to defend it.  What can you say to someone who does know the enriching experience of sitting at the feet of a poet?  My quiet love for poets is undying. Their words have raised me from out of my graves, lifted my spirit into symphonies of softness and beauty,  comforted me in times of solitude and doubt, set me aflame with the challenge of what it means to be truly human. Their words have been the eyes of insight and wisdom into what I might never have been able to see or feel.

I took comfort in the words of Adrian Mitchell ‘ Most people ignore most poetry, because most poetry ignores most people.’

If it was not for the passion and support of the truly amazing committee that had decided to take the plunge with me, the McGregor Poetry Festival would not have materialized.  In fact we decided to call ourselves ‘playmates’ rather than committee members as we were so aware that we would be playing an edge. Jennifer Johnson, Annie Norgarb, Anne Binos, Marinda Oosthuizen, Dave Magner. I salute you, as indeed I salute the poets who went out on a limb with us to participate in the Festival.

The night before the opening of our event the wind blew in McGregor as never before. I sat in my study shuddering. If already there was a reticence to celebrate poets and poetry who on earth would brave gale force winds to cross the mountains to our valley?

I leant over to a box of Angel cards which lay on my desk. During the weeks preceding the festival our committee had pulled a card prior to each meeting for a smile, at least. Frustrated, I kept choosing PATIENCE. Now, on this night of howling hurricanes with dread knocking the door, I turned over my card of choice. There it was again, PATIENCE!

The next day all was calm   And they began to arrive. Not only the beloved poets, but the lovers of poetry. They came in numbers far exceeding  anything we could have hoped for. In fact businesses in McGregor reported back to us that this had been the village’s most successful festival ever!  A huge thank you to all of you who supported the dream.  Remember, you too can dream – against all odds.

I end with a quote from Dylan Thomas

‘Poetry is what makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toenails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own’

With love, and gratitude

Billy

PS. I am now convinced that the gale that blew on the Friday night was no less than the Greek gods arriving on their chariots!

THE McGREGOR POETRY FESTIVAL 20 – 23rd June

A huge thank you to the friends of Temenos for your encouraging support over the last weeks.  As you may imagine getting a festival off the ground takes much passion, courage and endurance. Getting a Poetry festival off the ground has even further challenges. Besides bringing together poets and lovers of poetry from far afield, a lot of energy is spent reigniting an appreciation for the art. Far too many people I  come acrosswere so poorly introduced to poetry by teachers who themselveswere  never enflamed by it. They were incapable of passing on the spark. It astounds me that the sum total recall for many in a poetry class was of being forced to learn poems off by heart!

How different my experience was. I was taught by an English master who was passionate about poetry and whose greatest joy was to engage with students who were open to appreciating thedepth and  the beauty of it. At least twice a week he would invite our own Braveheart Society to accompany him to the tearoom at John Orrs in downtown Johannesburg. There, over tea andscones ,we would be invited to join the company of T S Elliot and Yeats, Emily Dickinson and e e cummings, among a host of others.

He also revealed to us as though opening a magic casement,thsatpoetry  was not only a marriage of craft and imagination.Itcould inspire us and make us think differently about what it means to be a member of the human race. Here was food for the soul.

‘After English class I used to like stopping by woods on snowy evening. I liked the coming darkness, the jingle of harness bells, breaking – and adding to the stillness, the gentle drift of snow………

But today, the teacher shared with us what everything stood for.The woods, the horse, the miles to go, the sleep.

They all had hidden meanings’.

If you have the opportunity next weekend do come out and rediscover the flame of poetry. Come for the day to beautiful McGregor.  Relax in front of a log fire with a glass of our local wine, and enjoy the company of poets. Do you write poems ?Bring them along to a workshop or our Open Mic sessions.Don’t worry about measuring up to other writers. No one has the same genetic makeup, the same life experiences as you. No one sees the world quite the way you do, or can express it in quite the same way. You are already the world’s foremost expert on you!

Our bilingual Festival programme has something for everyone. Poetry walks in the garden at Temenos, installations and exhibitions, events and workshops for children and teenagers, passionate discussions on poetry, Music and poetry and much, much more. Visit our website at www.temenos.org.za for more details. Tickets are available at the door.

On a personal note I will have the privilege of presenting to lovers of the erotic and the mystical, the exquisite Song of Solomon. Friends who know me well know I enjoy nothing more than sitting in the Little Way with my head on the eastern wall reading the book that inspired the poets of the Western mystical traditional. You are welcome to come and share the passion. See you in McGregor.

With love

Billy

Winter snows and McGregor

Beautiful snow in McGregor. On the Riviersonderend mountains. On the Langeberg.  A breathtaking sight. The vineyards in the foreground, rolling hills, snow capped mountains. Best of all, the soft, soft light.

The seasons are very marked in our village – one of the main reasons I chose to live here. The spring is heralded by wild flowers to rival Namaqualand’s display.  Climb a hill in early September and find yourself overwhelmed by an unbounded sea of red and orange and yellow. Then drift into a Mcgregor Summer when the shimmering white unsteady light and soaring temperatures  hustle one  indoors for long siestas. Then  Autumn, and that first moment one feels the sudden chill in the air, and the fruit trees  begin to  surrender their leaves at the thought of rest.

As the years go by and we learn to embrace the cycles of nature, we  become aware that we ourselves are becoming  men and women of all seasons. That the heart and soul are cultivated by the seasons of our life – some gentle and carefree, some  abundant and fruitful.  Others stark and challenging.  Each is  treasured in its own way especially  if we have  become the poets of our own existence.

 Winter for many  of us is a time to hibernate and be more tender towards ourselves.  More time making log fires and reading. Box of chocolates on the side table. Or a glass of vintage wine.  Not only staying indoors but retreating inwardly too, what the indigenous peoples of North America would have called ‘going beneath the blanket’. This is the time to pause and reflect, to keep oneself warm. Maybe write a poem?  So go ahead.  Put the dog or cat on the bed, make sure you are comfortable, and revel in reconnecting  with your less busy self.

Reading Boris Pasternak in winter has almost become a ritual for me. Maybe memories of a past life in snow swept St Petersburg……….

‘Snow is falling, deeper – deeper.

Maybe, with that same stride

in that same tempo,

with that same languor,

times’s going by’.

Hope to see you at the McGregor Poetry Festival in front of a log fire, red wine in hand being enriched by poets and poetry.

With love

Billy

Billy's Dream

Once or twice in our lifetime we are handed the cup of divine madness. We are given an opportunity to follow our dreams and our passions, and to honour Beauty and Love in its highest forms. The opportunity often blows on a dangerous wind and will, more than often, test our intention, our ripeness for it and our courage. To honour poets has long been high on my bucket list, and this June ( June 20^th – 23^rd ) our Poetry committee are bravely launching the first McGregor Poetry Festival.

It was John Lennon who said that his role in society was to try and express what we all feel. Not to tell people how to feel. Not as a preacher or a leader but as a reflection of us all. This is the gift the poets bring to us, and it is an Art that surely deserves our gratitude and our support.

McGregor is an ideal village for such a festival with its misty mornings and starry skies, and its claim to be ‘on the road to nowhere’ and ‘the place where time stands still’. We are optimistic that our festival will be an intimate, heart warming event – an opportunity for poets to mingle with poets and lovers of poetry in front of log fires enjoying a glass or two of our superb local red. It hopefully will also become a platform for aspiring and undiscovered poets to voice their work.

Being set aflame with a dream is one thing, bringing it into reality is another. Our committee has boldly risen to the challenge. Our programme for the festival is truly amazing with something for everyone. Take a look for yourself at www.temenos.org.za  or at  www.tourismmcgregor.co.za

Where we need your help in getting the word out there. Being a semi reclusive  I am not an expert in social media networking which I have been informed is the way to go. Please support Poetry and our poets by navigating to our website at www.temenos.org.za, and liking us on Facebook. There is also a link to Twitter where you can follow the events as they unfold (You can search or comment using the #mcgpoetryfestival). Additionally, link us to your websites or newsletters, or whatever networking means you have.  Tell your friends to tell their friends, and let’s create an annual celebration of the beautiful art.

We do need your help. And it’s all for the pure love of Poetry.

Thank you for sharing the passion.

Warm regards

Billy Kennedy