Water covers the ground, like a thin sheet of glowing liquid glass whose reflections ripple and are distorted by delicate raindrops that fall across it’s surface. The Londoners below weave in and out of each other with a pace that causes a visceral sense of unease to arise within. It is a frenzied kind of movement. They walk with their overly preoccupied heads down (rain or shine) leading their hurried, rushing footsteps throughout the city streets. Nothing about this city is soothing. Nothing about this city encourages true presence. Across the road from me is a brick building that has been standing for hundreds upon hundreds of years. It’s pale blue and white shutters suggest a forgotten tranquility that perhaps once existed in a life lived once on this street. The building is now dwarfed by 3 massive glass office buildings and a collection of skyscrapers. It is yet another example of the dichotomy of the architecture of this city, a violent clash of ancient and modern buildings.
Across the street from the little apartment we rented, three feet of pavement have been cut into a circle and a tree has been planted there. It is two stories tall now. Tiny fluorescent green buds cover its branches. The life force coming from the tree (which is the only piece of living greenery on the block) projects itself into the street. I have been watching its energy field effect the people passing by for fifteen minutes now. It seems to slow them. On a subconscious level, they are calmed by it. Two days ago, I managed to make my way to a city park. It has been my favorite part of this trip so far. I took off my shoes and walked barefoot over the grass. The pigeons were so populous that it felt like I was stepping through them. I could have listened to the sedative sound of their gurgling and cooing all day. What was fascinating to see, is that the pigeons verbally express the suppressed emotions of the people in this city. The animal kingdom and the plant kingdom provide a great deal of balance for the energies of this planet. From an energetic perspective, pigeons are like tiny little release valves for the emotional tension within cities. I watched swans fly in and land on the water. And went to the café in the park to buy some chamomile tea. I am the disgrace of the spiritual world because admittedly, I’m not in love with tea. I will drink it only when I’m sick, or in the mood to increase my vibratory rate in one way or another. I see it more as a medicine than an enjoyable drink. However, since coming here to this climate, I’m starting to understand England’s obsession with Tea. The grayness of this place makes its way into the marrow of your bones. It chills you from the inside out, regardless of the actual air temperature. It is an unfriendly climate that encourages a kind of elusive inner depression. I was in such a different state of being yesterday, that I do not have clear memory of yesterday’s workshop. I’m not happy here. I’m trying to figure out what I can do differently to feel better here.