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Saturday, 14 December 2013


Getting back into my blog again after a layoff to pursue other things I value, I thought I would start off with the word forgiveness, because I believe that its a very essential part of our lives.
I would class Forgiveness as a releasing action, and a wonderful power to find within ourselves. David Augsburger has this to say about it.
Since nothing we intended is ever faultless, and nothing we attempt ever without error, and nothing we achieve without some measure of finitude and fallibility we call humanness, we are saved by Forgiveness.
My way of looking at it basically comes down to the fact that the more we hurt others, the more we hurt ourselves. And the less we learn to forgive, the less we will be forgiven.
I feel very clearly, that the longer we hold on to those things that hurt us in the past, the more disillusioned we become as we step into the future day by day. And unless you do something about it, that sack on your back only gets heavier and heavier. Because I come into contact with many people in regards to the life I live, I never cease to feel both sad, and amazed at the stories I have heard, and the events I have witnessed about people who find it so hard to leave the past where it belongs. And I don’t want you to think that I am presenting this to you in a critical manner, For I myself have been guilty of it.
My only reason for writing items like this, is to please ask people who find it so hard to leave those things that hurt you at some time or another, where they can no longer hurt you. Don’t give others the satisfaction of taking those precious moments that you need so badly to face the things that are waiting to put challenge, love, and endless things that could colour your everyday presence as a human being.

Ideas To Ponder Over

Some of these are are from the looking glass of my mind, others from those I believe reflect as I do. Like everything else I am throwing your way they might be of some value to you, if not you have lost nothing.

I will start with one of the many little pieces of gratification that was thrown into my lap as I moved from place to place, and book to book. As a person who believes in the tenderness of a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or even a touch on the shoulder, i think this little story fits in here with a lovely message attached to it. It was written by a guy called Jim Sanderson, a columnist.
He received a letter from a woman who gave her name as Margaret. She was 71 years old. Her son came to visit her one night and burst into the house without knocking. He burst into the house and there was Margaret on the couch really having a blast with one of her boyfriends from the Senior Citizens. The man was horrified to see his mother kissing a man on the couch that he turned on his heels, said, “Thats disgusting, “and left. So poor Margaret writes, “Did I do wrong? And Sanderson writes to her and says.

The best things in life, Margaret, go on forever. Every human being requires conversation and friendship. Why do we assume that the needs of older people stop there? The body may creak a little but there is no arteriosclerosis of emotions. Older people literally hunger for caring and affection and physical touching, just like anybody. Adult children and other family members seldom provide anything more than starvation rations-an occasional kiss. We know that sex is perfectly feasible at any age, given good health, but even when this does not seem appropriate for various reasons, why should there not be a little latter day romance, a little love, a innocent contact, a stolen kiss, a gentle massage, a caress on the cheek, one hand fondling another? Many woman of your age, margaret, often feel strange and alarming stirrings within themselves, feelings that may not have surfaced for years. This is the life force coming to your rescue to remind you that you are a male or female, not just an all-purpose senior citizen. Rejoice in this, Margaret, You’ve had enough bad news.

I think that’s brilliant. Theres nothing out of proportion about that. I am well aware that hugging breathes a new sense of life into old bones. When my children or my grandchildren hug me, I feel over the moon. And I’m well known as a hugger. Yes, I take chances at times I must admit, But I ask you in all sincerity what’s the point of living if you can’t reach out to others in some way or another?

I am going to follow that up with another little story that circles around everything I believe in. And of course this brings with it life, death, love challenge and adventure. Yes, you could add a lot more, but thats gives us a pattern to go on with.
This charming fire of fantasy is taken from book called, “The leopard “ It’s about a Sicilian man who lived with passion! He believed that the most beautiful singular thing in the world was La donna-the woman. He lived all his life admiring beauty, especially female beauty. He also worked to keep a family together, but never lost sight of the magic of the beauty of all women. There were no ugly women for him. He becomes very, very ill, and it happens to be in northern Italy at the time. A southern Italian from Sicily would never dream of dying in northern Italy. He says, “Get me home. Get me home! I’ve got to go back to my house and die with my family!”
So they take this old man onto a train, to travel down Italy. It’s a beautiful trip as they describe his pain and his despair. He’s going home, because he knows he’s going to die. He just gets into Rome, and he hears all the hustle and bustle in the station. He opens the window curtain and looks out. He sees the most incredible lady, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She’s all in brown, with an enormous brown hat on, with a great brown plume, brown leather gloves up to here. She’s the most elegant lady he’s ever seen. He looks at her and says,  “Madonna mia!” Even in his sick state. She turns and smiles at him, and the train moves out of the station. He can’t get the vision of this woman out of his mind.
In the next chapter he’s dying, and all his family are around him. they’re all weeping. He’s getting the last rites, the door suddenly opens, and in walks the lady in brown. With all the elegance in the world, she walks right through the family to his bedside. She lifts her hand and gives him her beautiful brown- gloved hand. He looks at her and says, “It’s you.”

The great joy of life I believe comes with small blessings as  do the sorrows. They come I believe from the gold mines of our imagination in unbelievable and mysterious ways. And we really need to listen to each and every one, because the gifts they bring will never come again in the same form. And at times they may not bear any resemblance as a gift. Maybe more like pain in the neck. But if you sidestep them without taking a deeper look, they may may come back to haunt you?

I will follow what I have said there with a few I first threw at myself before I put them in your path. It’s just another way of me sharing my life with you. As I may have mentioned, I don’t believe in giving advice, rather asking you in the best possible manner to throw your mind over the things that experience has placed in my lap. I’m sure there will be quite a number of you lovely people who
would like to share a few things with me to add to my growth.

Living with yourself is always going to be in some way incomplete and imperfect, a lifetime of off and on vulnerability.

Unless we are realistic and honest about what is developing in our minds, there is little self-growth to water it with.

I sometimes wonder how well I know myself. And on the other hand how how important is that to me? Maybe it’s like a two sided coin. When I learn to be happy with one, I could be happy with the other.

If we take the time to consider our lack of creativity, maybe our lives won’t be so miserable, our uncharted.

It’s not so much about what comes your way, it’s more about what you can do with it. It came for a purpose, maybe to test you, or to pass on to someone else. Maybe it needs more for itself than you, or others, so please let it do it’s thing
Love requires time to find it’s own process of existence. All the delicate skills that surround it brings many demands. And each one is an art in itself.

No one can instruct you what to be, or what not to be. They can share their experience with you, but they can not do your thinking for you. You are always very much alone in the web you are continually weaving.

I am only alive in what I find that attracts me to its core. There I can develop my mind in what direction I must take myself. And I must at the same time realise that whatever comes my way will be both solvable and unsolvable.

I am now going to take a walk back  down memory lane, to see if I can put a little more colour on some of the things I wrote about in my book, and the sequel to it. Not that I am unhappy with it in anyway, It’s more of a challenge than anything else. And also to keep me in touch with myself. I really believe that it’s so important to try and understand the you of you, than anything else. That way you will find that there is no need to build defense mechanisms to protect yourself. I will give you a little but beautiful example of that before I start my little trip down memory lane.
This was written by a man called Zinker.
If a man in the street were to pursue his self, what kind of guiding thoughts would he come up with about changing his his existence? He would perhaps discover that his brain is not yet dead., that his body is not dried up, and that no matter where he is right now, he is still the creator of his own destiny. ( I really love that inspiring piece, “He is the Master of his Own Destiny) We should all think carefully about that? He can change this destiny by taking his one decision to change seriously, by fighting his petty resistance against change and fear, by learning more about his mind, by trying out behavior which fills his real need, by carrying out concrete acts rather than conceptualizing about them. Wow”I love that. By practicing to see and hear and touch and feel as he has never done before used these senses, by creating something of his own hands without demanding perfection, by thinking out ways in which he behaves in a self-defeating manner, by listening to the words that he utters to his wife, his kids, and his friends, by listening to the words and looking into the eyes of those who speak to him, by learning to respect the process of his own creative encounters and by having faith that will get him somewhere soon.
We must remind ourselves, however, that no change takes place without working hard and without getting your hands dirty. There is no formulae and no books to memorize on becoming. I only know this; I exist, I am, I am here, I am becoming, I make my life and no one else makes it for me. I must face my own shortcomings, mistakes, transgressions. No one can suffer my non-being as I do, but tomorrow is another day, and I must decide to leave my bed and live again. And if I fail, I don’t have the comfort of blaming you or life or God.

Terry’s No Time Like Now

I am going to give my next and final blog another title. And by final I mean till such a time as time takes it’s toll on me.

                      Terry’s No Time Like Now.
I chose that title simply because thats the place I am living in, or always moving into. If you don’t take life as it comes, it will take you as it pleases. Maybe another way to express that quote of mine in a better frame of mind comes from a book called The Souls on Fire. The author Wiesel makes this statement! When we die and go to heaven, and we meet our Make, our Maker is not going to say to us, why didn’t you become a messiah? Why didn’t you discover the cure for such and such? The only thing we’re going to be asked at that precious moment is why didn’t you become you.
As I have mentioned in my book that was one of the turning points in my life. And I make it a point of telling young people that in the best possible terms that I can. Please look at taking responsibility for your actions. That way I fully believe you will leave something of spiritual value behind when you move on. I know it’s a risk I take when say such things as I do, But it’s an enjoyable risk. As Viktor Frankl says,”What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. And thats a lesson well learned believe me.

I well remember before I changed my life around that it was only myself that was standing in my own way. And we do that constantly without realizing it. And in so many cases it’s the past we can’t get away from. You carry all this baggage that weighs you down till your world is torn from pillar to post. I was once a good example of that, otherwise I would not be talking about it.
But thank God I got another shot at life. Why is not is not important, just the facts?

Saturday, 1 June 2013

A Walk With A Spiritual Irishman - Chapter 1

Another place apart from the Devonport Folk Club I got to sing in before I got more confidence to sing in other places was The Birdcage, thanks once again to Paul. When I found out that he was playing there I would go along and catch up with friends and make new friends. I also enjoyed dancing there among the beautiful tropical plants that make the place so bewitching and unique to my minds eye. Around eleven or so we would make our way to a cafe in Ponsonby called Cezanne’s. There we would order something to eat and drink, then share some of the things that were happening in our lives in one degree or another with laughter or a touch of sympathy. Some amazing things came out of those conversations  for me, and it also brought with it a lovely form of bonding for all of us I’m sure. Sometimes it could be the early hours of the morning before we departed. Those times still remain very special for me.
I am going to give you a little poem to follow up those last words of mine. I will call it A Glimpse.

                The times we share together
                           Will never be experienced again
                       they pass just like a glimpse at the sun.
                                     Some never to be forgotten
                                               some best forgotten.

During the week, to occupy my time and help to keep my body and brain on alert, I played tennis and snooker, swam and played golf. Then in what seemed no time at all, it was time to pack my humble belongings and head back to Australia and try my luck with whatever Australia had to offer me, and I, it. I left my old bomb of a car with my daughter Rachel and asked her if she could give it away to someone very hard up. To try to sell it I felt would be a cardinal sin that even the Pope couldn’t forgive. Mind you, I now have to ask God to forgive me as it’s gone beyond the Pope’s reach as my daughter sold it to someone who was trying to teach his daughter how to drive. I won’t make any more comment on that than to say thanks Rachel for all the dirty washing I left you to do for me over the years.

When I got to jot to Sydney I took a taxi to a reasonable priced motel in one of my favourite hunting grounds in Kings Cross. I booked in for a couple of nights to give me a little time to read the local rag to find a more accommodating venue to suit my dollar- worn bank account. The next day, early in the morning its off to Social Welfare to get back on the Australian pension. I must say that the man who interviewed me was a really nice guy and very clever and understanding in the way he went about his job. Mind you I was always treated well by the pension authorities In Australia and New Zealand. In less than a week I was back on the Australian pension.

After reading the local rag I found a room in a hotel in Enmore Road in Newtown. I must admit that it was not a good choice as I had to keep the windows open because it was very hot. Now normally that would not have been much of a bother to me as I got pretty used to noise living around certain places in Sydney, but both the traffic noise and the so called music at the weekends got the better of me this time so thats why I said bad choice. Then about a week later good fortune struck me as I came across a room to let for ninety dollars in the same road. So I called into this house and was greeted by a very pleasant gentleman whose name escapes me and taken to this small room at the back of the house. Yes, I must admit that it was quite small, but what caught my eye was this lovely, small but well foliaged tree just outside the window. I fell in love with it straight away, I just love trees. And not only was that a good omen for me, but also the gentleman who showed me the room seemed a really happy-go-lucky kind of person who put me at my ease straight away. He and his wife lived there as caretakers of the house. That of course made up my mind on the spot, so I handed him one hundred and eighty dollars for two weeks rent.

I must say it was a great relief to be out that noisy hotel room and into a small but very peaceful room at the rear of this house. During my previous stay in Sydney I had rented quite a few rooms but this one was quite something else. And what made it it something else was this lovely tree outside my window. As the days went by I used to sing and talk to this tree as I lay relaxed on my bed when I was not gallivanting about. And when I saw the the leaves move in the wind I felt it was returning my sentiments.

I started to go back to that home for destitute men called the ‘Matthew Talbot’ that I talked about in my book to catch up with my lovely friend Sister Yvonne and the people I shared a part of my life with. One day while I was clearing the dishes from one of the tables, a guy came seemingly out of nowhere and punched me on the jaw. I can can just remember him looking down at me as my eyes seemed to be covered in a glaze. It all happened so suddenly that all I was left with was a hazy reflection of my assailant, but enough to remember that I had seen him looking at me in the past with a strange look on his face. Mind you I had noticed this before with others during my stay there. I guess my happy-go-lucky attitude can rub certain people up the wrong way, especially in a place like The Talbot. But at the same time if one is false to himself, he will always be false to others.

But thank God the guy who hit me left it at that- he didn’t try to put the boot in, just moved on. I was  helped to my feet by another member of the voluntary staff who eased me into a chair to nurse my jaw and get over the shock. I made no further fuss about it other than feeling sorry for myself, and a little later my way back to my room to nurse my very sore jaw and to reflect over the incident. As I lay there I got this feeling that things were not going to plan. It seemed that I was into a whole new ball game. The magical game of cards I once held in my mind had more spades than hearts. And a short time later this was to become very evident.

I went back to the Matthew Talbot a few days later to see Sister Yvonne to tell her what had happened. She had heard nothing about it. After offering me a few kind words of sympathy, she hit me right in that place I needed to be hit in. “Terry,” you should never have come back here. You did a wonderful job, and learned a lot of valuable lessons, and I enjoyed your company, but now it’s time to move on and fill your life with something else. Well two K. O.s in a short time of space of time was quite a shock for ones system, but I must say they were very cleverly delivered. So after a few tears and hugs I left the Matthew Talbot for good. I said that I would keep in touch with her.

About two weeks later, my left shoulder was giving me problems. I could not afford to play golf, but tennis, snooker and table tennis were still available to me. So I took myself off to the medical center in Newtown and later after having an X-ray on both shoulders I was informed by the doctor who saw me that I had arthritis in both shoulders and that I would have to give up playing tennis. I can’t really put into words my feelings at that particular moment because it seemed to be one thing after another was grinding me down and down and down. Though I couldn’t understand it at that time because of the emotional strain I was under, another very important lesson was coming my way.

A week or so later I realised the writing was definitely on the wall for me. Do I move out of Sydney and try my luck somewhere else in Australia, or head back home to familiar territory? So I put what pride I had left behind me and went back to New Zealand. I am not a quitter by any means, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valour. I think this poem of mine might fit in here. It’s called,” To Hunt Or Free Me.

Whatever comes to hunt or free me
                can take some time to figure out
                          if that’s at all possible,
                        but one thing’s for certain;
                 I’m never the same after each episode.
              But, then again, if I’m not here for change,
                                what am I here for?

When I got back to New Zealand I was offered a change of scenery. A lovely lady whom I will call  Kathleen because I don’t have permission to use her name offered me a room in her house in Howick. It would have been in my circumstances more sensible to stay with my daughter in Birkenhead, close to just about everything I needed not having a car, but as you would have gathered by now I am not a sensible person. But then again I love that saying “Life is too serious to be taken seriously. that zest for adventure was still flowing in my veins. What I had to try now was to keep my expectations at bay. It’s not easy I will agree, but at the same time your expectations can be a soul destroyer.

This move turned out a lot more beneficial than I ever dreamt it would as you will see if you are still with me. There are a lot of undercurrents in my story than you may realise. And I also realise that only those who are willing to take risks will appreciate where I am coming from. And the meaning behind that is to encourage you, not to say that I am better than anyone else. What I have written in my book and this follow up is all about trying to help others believe in themselves. It took me a long time, but believe me it’s well worth that inner trip. I call it an inner trip because it’s all happening within you. Where else could it take place?

I would now like to share something that made me do a lot of thinking when I was changing my life around. The punch line comes at the end of this simple little story called ‘The Little Prince’, by Saint Exupery. The story is built around a lovely, wondrous little boy who lives on a star. Please let your mind be open to this as best you can. He has nobody or nothing on the star except a great baobab tree and a couple of volcanoes. For instance, he loves sunsets because they’re both beautiful and a little sad. Because the planet is so tiny, every time he moves his chair, he can see another sunset, and so he can see as many forty-four sunsets a day.

One day a little seed comes, and he watches it grow into a rose. He watches intently as it blossoms and becomes a gorgeous flower. he has never seen a rose, but along with becoming beautiful, the flower becomes very vain. She preens herself, and says, “Protect me from the sun!,and “Protect me from the wind!” and she is literally driving him mad until he decides that he doesn’t understand her at all. He leaves her and flies down to other planets to gain wisdom by finding out about love, life and about people.

He encounters some pretty strange things. On earth, among others he meets a very wise individual, a fox, and the little fox says to the little prince, “Tame me”. The little prince says, “well, I don’t know what that means. What does it mean to be tamed?” And the fox tells him how to form relationships with people, how to get into people, how to care. The little prince says, “If I tame you, remember that I can’t stay with you very long. I’ve got to go away. And the fox replies, “Indeed, when you do, I’m going to be very sad, I’m going to cry”. The prince asks, “Why on earth would you want me to tame you if it is going to cause you pain?”. And the fox replies, “It’s because of the colour of the wheat fields”. And the prince says, I don’t understand. The fox replies,”I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat.

And so began the ritual of taming, which is the beautiful ritual of getting into each other.
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near, “Ah”, said the fox, “I shall cry”, It is your own fault,”said the little prince. I never wished you any sort of harm, but you wanted me to tame you. “Yes that is so, said the fox.”Then it has done you no good at all. “It has done me good”, said the fox, “because of the colour of the wheat fields”, And, then he added “Go and look at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to me, and I will make you a present of a secret.

Then the little prince went away to look at the roses. “You are not at all like my rose”, he said “as yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world. And the roses were very much embarrassed. “You are beautiful, but you are empty”, he went on. One would not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you, the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses, because it is she that I have watered, because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we have saved to become butterflies) because it is she that listened to, when she grumbled or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose. And He went back to meet the fox. “Goodbye”, said the fox. “ And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly that what is essential is invisible to the eye. What is essential is invisible to the eye, the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

The bell that rings it’s tone for me from that is what is essential is so vast and constantly changing that we lose sight of because of our perception. Our fixed minds. More is going on in our lives than we will ever have time to really understand because we limit it for one reason or another. Wonderful things are out there, and always have been that we have never taken the time to discover. And you might say, how do I find them because of where I am for one one reason or another. All I can say to that is please Try. I don’t I would have made it had it not been for that great longing that developed deep down inside of me. No, I was not conscious of it at the time but I can see now how conscious it was for me.

Saturday, 18 May 2013


A Walk With A Spiritual Irishman

I have decided not to publish the sequel to my book A Walk With An Irishman, but put it on my blog so that it is free to those who would like to read it. I have just got myself a new computer, so I thought I would would have some fun typing out what I had written out by pen, then transferred it onto my old computer to have it proofread. It may seem a bit odd going about this way, but I really like the whole concept of it all. This way it will keep things simple for me, and also give me the advantage adding in some of my poems, quotes and pictures, plus whatever I may dream up. Our lives are full of possibilities, so why not give ourselves a lot of encouragement.
This little story has a significant title change from my book because I no longer call myself a Christian, but a Spiritual person. So the title I will circle around this little story will be. A Walk With A Spiritual Irishman.

As I gaze through the clouds of my mind, both colourful and dark, I believe one is as necessary as the other. I have come to the conclusion that life and living have two common seeds of growth attached to them. And they must move through each other to produce one thing or another. That in my mind’s eye is the on-going struggle we mortals face during our lifetime. But there is no doubt in my mind that if we spent more of our valuable time developing our own uniqueness instead of playing pussyfoot with it, we could dance our way to the stars.

I am nearly always on automatic pilot looking for new things to become involved in, and then work my way through them to produce a result here and there to place at God’s Feet. And whatever He may or may not think of them is no longer any concern of mine. He gave me a choice to become involved in them, and then move on to other things. That’s what I believe life and living is all about for those of us who wish to become some sort of a real human being. And if you don’t believe in God, do it for your sense of satisfaction, or for those you love, or would like to encourage. Let me tell you that you will be amazed of what you’re capable of achieving. And in this sense of direction you don’t get caught up in society’s endless laws and regulations which in so many cases are nothing short of all sorts of unpredictability that can lead you into a forest where you become lost.

As I view life through my experiences on this beautiful planet, life is not easy at times by any means, but as long as I look at inconveniences as though they were lessons I need to learn I soon find myself back on track again with stronger values than I previously had. Value systems come in all kinds of symbols and verbal languages that can become very hurtful, and in many ways destructive. I meet a lot of people as I travel from stepping stone to stepping stone, and most of the time find myself amazed, dumbfounded, or left with a humorous grin on my face at some of the remarks people tie themselves, to protect themselves. No wonder they never embrace life and live it to the full by letting it grab them by the earlobes, and taking them where life will.

There is nothing to be frightened about, which I can vouch for. Yes, tingling sensations up and down your spine and other off the beaten track sensations, but the deep sense of fear plays no part in it. And it is nothing to do with age, education or whatever you might chose to block your mind with. So please don’t deny yourself that great pleasure of experiencing every moment of all those qualities that contain love, laughter, music, pain, struggle and companionship.

And one final thing before I start my walk again. My little story may not give you a lot of information about parts of my journey such as dates and certain follows-ups, but my story seeks more to portray a sense of Spiritual Enlightenment to try and show you how free you can be when you step away from the things that enslave your mind and your unconsciousness. My story is meant to flow like a river and gather no moss; simple to acquire your mind with because it resonates with Spiritual Truth.

Well here I am again after a long layoff to try and and present the best picture I can of some of the weird and wonderful experiences which have taken me to the place where I am now, and flow on to wherever it might be.

So once again please put your hand in mine and let’s vibrate together as I try to share a little more of myself and those people who have touched my life with their graciousness.

When I arrived back in New Zealand in the dying months of the winter of 1996 after my way out of this world trip back to the land of my birth, and all the exciting places I passed through, and the beautiful people I shared time with, I was greeted by members of my family and whisked off to my daughter Rachel’s house in Birkenhead. There I related to the family what their crazy father/grandfather  had got himself involved in as he flew from pillar to post.
(For those of you who have read my book, you will be well aware of what I am referring to)

A week or two later, after all the excitement had died down, there slowly came over me a longing to be back in that world of timeless adventure where nothing seemed to  wave matter but taking one step after the next. That sheer wave of excitement mixed with “should I go this way, or that way? Maybe this poem of mine will enhance that statement. It is entitled, To Taste.

I came to taste a little more of life.
         To experience that sense of curiosity
            that at times can send a tingling shiver
           down my spine to awaken my darkness to
             to a greater light. For without that Spiritual
                 light my purpose on this earth would be
                           very dismal indeed.

AS the weeks ticked over, the need to be on the move again was slowly pushing my needs to be fulfilled once again, so Australia loomed up in my mind’s eye. Now that my bank account was almost where it usually was, Australia would be the cheapest stepping stone for my wandering and restless soul. So with that sense of satisfaction in my mind I settled down to life in New Zealand. I needed a cheap car which is the norm in my life style of living. My daughter Rachel had a girlfriend whose husband had a car to sell. ‘Give away’ would have been a better title for the word sell. It was a Honda 1500. He wanted $1200 for it. Yes, you’re right, it was an old bomb. Being an Irishman the word bomb was well ingrained in my vocabulary. It was registered, but needed a W.O.F. So I thought to myself after a drive in it, beggars can’t be choosers, I’ll take it providing it passes a W.O.F. So the owner took me to his mate’s garage and I got a very shady W.O.F. I’m quite sure the Testing Station in Takapuna would have advised me to take it to the tip had I gone there. But on receiving the W.O.F. I must admit that I was just as guilty as the guy that gave it to me. So with a set of wheels, and a six month reprieve under my belt, I now had enough time to schedule my return trip to Australia.

At this time I was living with my daughter and family so I had some extra money to spend on the things necessary for my fitness and enjoyment such as golf, tennis, swimming, music and snooker.

Being a Spiritual person wrapped in the philosophy of Christ with no attachment to any kind of religion other than to have a mixture of respect for them, I spotted an article in the local rag on this particular day which was headed ‘God and love’. Now that was nothing short of offering a red rag to a bull from the past experiences in my life. I have been to quite a few different Churches and venues where I eventually found out after I had been there for a period of time that God and love had taken a busman’s holiday on many occasions. So I said to myself, I’d better go and check it out. So I took myself off on this particular Sunday morning to a small hall in Glenfield, and found myself being welcomed into the arms of the Baha’i Faith.

Well to cut the story short, I did not join their clan, but I did make a lot of friends through going there, Baha'is and others, that helped to bring all sorts of colourful symbols for me to plant in the garden of my mind. There is no doubt in my mind that if you leave yourself open to everything that presents itself to you, you will eventually find yourself enfolded in the arms of God and nature.

Maybe this poem I have entitled, The Created Wave might hold some form of encouragement for you.

        I ride the crested wave of life. Each
          one upholds me in its loving arms,
       gently teaching me that I have no need
       to struggle to survive my personal impulses
         for God is always by my side inviting me to
      step into his arms where I don’t have to fight
            others or myself in order to survive.

One very interesting character I met from the Baha’i faith was a guy called Hedi Moani who hailed from Persia. Unfortunately he is no longer with us. He was murdered in Devonport, a part of the North Shore in Auckland. From the shallow form of information I received that surrounded his untimely departure from this earth, it seems that he took on more on his plate than he was capable of dealing with. Like so many other teachers of man’s so-called religion, Hedi had that need to be right about his beliefs, and all the things that held them together-and I say that with no disrespect to his memory.
I shudder to think what this kind of philosophy has done to human souls in all walks of life. Through the experiences that have been bestowed upon me, there is no doubt in my mind that you have to rely on your own God-given powers, not on the man made ones.

Hedi informed me that he was working on a book about his involvement in the Bahai Faith. I then told him that I was working on one I really knew something about, my own life experiences. He failed to note the real meaning behind that remark, so I didn’t pursue it, just grinned to myself. But it did grab his attention. He said that must be quite a challenge for you considering the lack of education, and the rough background you hailed from during your growing up years. I had told him a little about my father. I said yes, but when you take a good look at life, the only real choice you have is between what you think and what you feel, and what is most important to you. That seemed to hit him right where it needed to. He informed me that what he was working on was rough going from time to time. I said that I could well believe that because you are trying to retrace and probe the mind of others, which in my way of thinking is just about a sheer impossibility. I, on the other hand, am writing about what I myself have experienced,and had to deal with, and it has no sense of frustration or anything attached to it other than my inadequate sense of spelling!  

I Told Hedi during our conversation that I was planning to go back to Australia in roughly four months time and expose myself to whatever it had to offer me, as I was very much a people’s person. He said if you like a change of venue for that period of time, would you consider renting a room at my place for $80 dollars a week. I had paid him a short visit so I knew what to expect in regards to his offer. I said to to him with my usual type of enthusiasm when something is throw at me, make it $50 and I will try to something with that Godforsaken mess you call a garden. He agreed. I was quite happy living with my daughter and family, but that little sense or insensible voice inside me said go for it man, you could add a little more to your crazy life style, and maybe bring a few more colourful items to the pages of of your life.

I stayed with Hedi for the best part of of four months, and managed to get the garden into some kind of shape. He didn’t want to spend any money on it, so you can’t expect too much for nothing even though I know a lot of people who do! I had some good dialogue with him, which served both of us in some form or another. One of my sayings is. Open yourself to your conscience, and let your conscience decide. I may not be able to touch base at times, but there is always a learning smile or frown in the reflections.

I made some lovely friends from my association with Hedi, and still have a close contact with them. From time to time I meet up with them in the Takapuna Mall for a catch up chat, and something to eat and drink. I have permission to use one of my friend’s names. Wendy Harris is an amazing intelligent and caring lady. If you want to know anything about anything, Wendy is never far off the mark. She also has a great sense of humour and leaves nothing to be desired.

Another lovely man from the Bahi’s is Paul Bennett. He play’s guitar and sings. I went to see him perform on a number of occasions in different venues. One I remember quite clearly was the Strand Hotel on the corner of Parnell Road and Stanley Street. The fact that I remember it was because it was quite humorous. Paul usually asked me up to sing a couple of songs when I was in the early stages of airing my lungs in the music world. One of the songs I sang was called ‘ Anna Marie’. And because he introduced me as Terry the Irish singer, most of the crowd in the hotel bar thought it was an Irish song. Mind you, most of them had knocked back a few drinks, so rhyme or reason didn’t really come into the picture, as long as music did its thing.
That's round one, I will continue again in about a weeks time.

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Dont Miss You

Now that I have a new computer and Skype on it, plus lots of other things to get lost in, I will continue with my blog. I have just been looking back over what I have written with a big grin on my face at some of the spelling but at least you have got to admit I try. Life to me is about taking chances. One missed can never be recovered. How it turns out is not important, but the doing is. My life more so over the last twenty five years have been  coloured with beautiful people and crazy situations, and its still happening today. I will be throwing some of them at you as I continue my blog.
Now I am going to give you something I wrote on 11-6-2008 as I start getting into my blog on my new computer. Its title is; Don’t Miss You.
The responsibilities we owe to ourselves and others when dealing with everyday life is something that brings upon our shoulders all kinds of emotional and financial burdens. So, how we tackle them will bring all sorts of extreme and diverse issues for us to work through, or maybe try and walk away from. But if we fail to take up the gauntlet we will miss that very special part of our humanity. I call it my Spirituality-can call it anything that turns you on.

So, in a nutshell, for the want of a better phrase, it comes down to this. How willing are you to become involved in life and living - that is the question you have to ask yourself - for that and only that will determine its outcome for you. The values that you experience and then deal with can be a blessing to others if you are willing to share them unconditionally - a lifeline for them to grasp when they need it most.

I believe this is very much the concept of being human. Yes, it will bring you a certain amount of suffering but you will eventually find, if you persist at it long enough, the balance between suffering and joy will be tipped in your favour. Living your life to its fullest can be equal to nothing you could ever hope to find elsewhere. And if you don’t believe me, try it for yourself and you’ll be hooked. I am.

Sunday, 24 February 2013

A New Beginning

As I had to leave my Blog on the sideline till I completed the extended story of my life as I said I would, I am now getting back into my Blog. The reason why I have called it a new beginning because its little stories like this I am going to present to is what life and living is all about to me.

So I will try to keep myself in the background as much as possible.
A year or so ago a friend of mine attended a Portuguese language course at a school in Lisbon. He fell in with a fellow student and together in their spare time, they explored Lisbon, dined out a couple of times and shared a few beers. They still keep in touch via email. It turned out that the fellow student is a Congolese Franciscan priest who was sent to Lisbon to learn Portuguese in order to take up a post in Guinea Bissau (formerly a territory in Portuguese hands)

Guinea Bissau is a small, poverty stricken, internally troubled country on Africa’s west coast. In a recent email this priest asked my friend if he could explore the possibility of finding the means to donate a public address system PA to his particular church in Bissau (the capital city of Guinea Bissau), since the existing PA is forever breaking down and beyond economical repair. Now, my friend has previously sent a couple of small items to his friend in Guinea Bissau and found the cost of doing so quite steep. Multiply this to accommodate a vastly larger consignment and add on the cost of a reasonable quality PA, and you will understand why my friend has reluctantly informed his friend in Guinea Bissau that such a venture is a non-starter.

In a conversation with my friend, he had postulated that the most practical solution might be to try and get an internationally respected manufacture of PAs interested in the project with a view to using it as an advertising ploy since such a firm might have the financial means and a network of associates much geographically closer to Guinea Bissau than New Zealand.

When I heard this story I decided to include it in this blog in hope that some philanthropically minded random reader of means might discover and take an interest in it. If there is such a person out there, which I’m sure there is, then please contact me by email. This could be a new beginning for both of us, or many of us.

If you would like to assist in some way please get in touch via the contact form on this website.