Tag Archives: peace

behind the scenes – traders – angels who build, fix & maintain things

We take traders for granted. We hardly talk about the people who are often highly skilled and confident in their particular field. The term traders doesn’t sum it up but must do, since ‘crafts’ has come to define rare and often vanishing artisan work.

I’m talking of plumbers, heating-engineers, electricians, carpenters, construction workers, farm workers, roofers bricklayers, plasterers, waste collectors, sewage workers, tree surgeons, gardeners, transport personnel, car mechanics, fire fighters, nurses, cooks, carers, postal workers, IT engineers … and many, many others …

basically anyone who upholds the functioning of everyday life for us.

There are some cowboys, and I had my share of them, but mostly they’re well trained people, dedicated to their job, know their stuff, and serve everyone with sophisticated practical and theoretical knowledge.

I’m talking about hands-on work … work with the elements and under innumerable atmospheric conditions. These people deserve praise and should be given medals. Our lives would be severely disrupted without their expertise, and, frankly, societies would come to a standstill.

My experience with a skilled and highly intuitive heating engineer prompted this post. Combining a new boiler with an old pipe system is never straight forward. After many anxious months, John has solved a long-standing problem by exchanging misaligned pipes. I’m immensely grateful for a warm Christmas, thanks to my angel John.

You mayor may not have noticed,  my blog site is now called http://www.courseofmirrors.com only.  No more silly adds, thanks to my son’s sanguine advice and expertise.

Though we can’t take it for granted, I’m wishing you, my readers, warm and joyful festive days wherever you are, and whatever your tradition.

And a little peace from the virtual world.

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… a full moon autumn day …

Embodying the perfect autumn warmth, a divine stillness, devoid of mental chatter, other than a faint hum of the river of cars flowing along the town’s bypass, and the gentlest sound of a disintegrating wood chime in my cherry tree, whatever else happens in the world is another dream.

For such moments I am grateful, when peace settles deep, as a safe island in the psyche to return to, a manifest microcosm in the vast and unknown macrocosm.

As such, I witness my imagination, which occasionally turns transparent in the heart, as a veil for what is hidden. For in light is also darkness.

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