Oxford, Monday Morning

I woke from low grade negative dreams, having the anchor on my boat dragg, and having three cottages, one clean, one rather filthy and the third dirty with shit and clean sex toys on the bed and guests arriving.  Oh and I’ve slept in and have to get dressed in a hurry.  I could be a great patient in analysis at this point in my life with shitty 2 yo dreams , shame and fears.  When I awake though I’m great. There’s no sense of foreboding. I like saying ‘all shall be well’.  I pray and meditate and perhaps the trauma of the past is healing. I know I’m blessed.  I know too that we’re leaving for London today and I’ve always had weird dreams and restless nights before travel.

The anxiety it fitting what I have into the little bag. I bought a tshirt and more fridge magnets, gloves and a pen here.  It’s living within the restrictions of what one can carry.  It seems my life has been a lot of trying to reduce and live as simply as possible. Living on a sailboat living in an RV. I accumulated so much when I lived in big houses, better called, mansions, with so many rooms.  Here I’m seeing the accumulations of life times in Museums.  

The Ashmolean Museum we visitted yesterday was a collection of collections. There are 38 maybe 39 colleges and they have their museum and art.  This town is a gold mine of collections One college here received 1.5 billion dollars last year. Such wealth.  I think of Oxford as literature and the arts but it’s hub of scientific research with all manner of discoveries and patents flowing out from it. Then there’s the incredible money from tuition.  It’s still predominantly white and very English, the speech is all around, lots of upper crust conversation all in one place. But there’s a lot of Indian, middle eastern and Asian   They remain minorities but not small by any means,  A few women in the choirs too and some black folk.  

The Rhodes statue was attack by mob cancel culture. I was sorry to see that I had a flash of bombs hitting Oxford and the hangings and beheadings returning, That’s what’s happening in the Ukraine with the Communist old guard barbarians destroying monasteries and hospitals.  Boys destroy, men create. I disappointed by Putin, Russia, Biden and America. All the world leaders together seem not to be able to achieve world peace. 

I like that the Inuit, valuing life, appreciating the harshness of environment and risk of life, learned to have poetry contests to settle differences. Those who know luxury seem ready to gamble with others lives. I would volunteer as a sniper but my back and feet hurt.  I don’t want to kill anyone also. I’d likely serve as a psychiatrist convincing the sheep shock to return to this world and go out and kill. 

I didn’t find Grandfather’s farm or direct family. I visitted the Hay Clan Centre at Delgatie Castle. Here I didn’t get to the exact location where I took the picture 50 years ago in Magdalen College.  I didn’t go to the Quaker Church either.  I am thankful I was able to walk the cobbled uneven streets, feel the youth in the air, revisit old places and attend Christ Church Cathedreal taking part in rituals and wanting to more once a gain.  Praying meditating. Seeking guidance. The Cloud of Unknowing.  

I’ve loved this extraordinary stop over in Oxford.  So many thoughts and feelings.  Lots of unpacking in the future.  A whirlwind of emotions and spiritual longings.  Now on to London with the hope of a little rest as we’ve 5 days.  We’ve been going steady and the old bodies are slowly adapting but still crying out for the couch and Netflix and routine. Karen sent a lovely picture of Madigan and I miss him. I loved our walks together.  He certainly uplifts the spirits.  

Now I must pack. Laura is up and packing.  I’ve had a coffee even.