London – On Tiffany Creek

Ah, yes, sweet content of mind. How do you get to this place? To some it may come naturally as a part of their DNA. Some of us need to work harder at it. When we practice equanimity we may come closer to having ‘sweet content of mind.’ They are one in the same, or as we also say, ‘peace of mind.’

Reading gives me a feeling of equanimity. In reading a photo essay today entitled “Orwell’s Greenwich,” by Peter Robert’s, I learned details about George Orwell and was reminded of two of his books which I read in high school, “1984” and “Animal Farm.” The photo essay, through images followed the time that George Orwell lived in Greenwich, London. Orwell was a self-proclaimed socialist, but he didn’t necessarily appreciate left-wingers. He was happiest going to the pub and spinning yarns with the commoners. He fought in the Spanish Civil War, because he believed in the cause. He struggled with tuberculosis. Another person mentioned in this essay was Benjamin Waugh, because he lived in the same neighborhood as Orwell. The essay showed a photo of a plaque on Crooms Hill in London commemorating this man as the founder of the National Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children. This plaque can remind people passing by of how to make the world a better place, and to regard children well. ‘All children want is to be included.’

The essay reminds us that Orwell began “1984” with the following line, “It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen,” and that this sentence echoes Charles Dickens’ opening words to “The Tale of Two Cities,” “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Because life is essentially about imbalance, and disequilibrium, don’t we all search for ways to make everything OK, especially at the beginning of a New Year? In this new year, I hope everyone finds sweet content of mind, a sense of equanimity and peace of mind. If not for a second.

The date; Monday, June 12, 2017. Place, London. Event; The Changing the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Got there early to get our spot at the gates. Found a square on the pavement to perch ourselves, and peer through the bars. Early, we arrived. We had to stay put and hold on tight or others would come and try to usurp our position. The tourists flocked from all corners of London, to line up at the entrance of the Palace. I chose to allow a few small children to stand in my place. A cumbersome woman barged in, blocking their angled view to the inside. I told her she was taking the children’s space. She left.

The process of the event, from beginning to end, enraptured my spirit; the ongoing arrival of spectators, fueled by a desire to watch the colorful fanfare, the marching and playing of the Palace band. Otherwise, the procedure was quite tiresome and boring, and a bit puzzling that so many would come and stand in the heat and humidity, for what felt like an eternity. Yet, the allure and will to pay respect to the Queen and the Crown, she so regally bears, took precedent. People from around the globe stood and looked on, and when it was all over the multitudes meandered away, as if nothing happened at all. If I never see another changing of the guard, I will not care, as the young girl in the photograph may have felt. Her shirt read, “Don’t Care.”