Conquering the world one word at a time LOL

Sometimes you have to pause and look around and reflect back over the ground you have travelled so far.

I did that a few minutes ago as I was looking at my WordPress stats and thinking “what the heck am I going to blog about this week?”

I pulled up the stats map that shows the “all time” view of where in the world my blog has been read. (Yes, I know that some of these could quite easily be bot pings but don’t burst my bubble please).

The very fact that most countries around the globe are pink and some are red, indicating a lot of hits, blows me away.

Why would someone in Australia or Japan or Brazil even find my blog in among the millions of blog posts out there?

The very thought that people in all of these countries have taken time out of their busy lives to even glance at my blog fills me with warmth and pride.

An indie author/blogger’s journey can feel quite lonely at times. Seeing the “likes” notifications and the occasional comment on my blog posts helps to make it much less lonely so thank you to those who have taken the time to hit like or comment. It really is appreciated.

I do try to keep the content on here varied. It was a conscious decision when I started this blog that I didn’t want tied down to one genre or theme. It would have been all too easy to fill it each week with photos of my cats but so far I have largely resisted that temptation.

So I guess that this week’s blog is really just a simple thank you to each and every one of you who read my ramblings each week and keep coming back for me.

Something that would really make my day …my week…my months…even my year would be if someone from Greenland stumbling across this blog…..oh well, a girl can dream 😉

Page

Page

Blank…

What are you hiding,

In those empty lined depths?

New worlds waiting to be revealed.

Old worlds waiting to be revisited.

Young love ripe to for exploration

Relationships that bloom,

Then wither through time.

Goodbyes to be said.

Laughter to light up the world.

Tears silently being shed.

A myriad of possibilities beckon

As I pick up my pen.

The writer’s blank canvas awaits.

Auroville – yes, it is real!

When I switched on my laptop the other day, the Bing photo caught my eye and piqued my curiosity.

What was this incredible looking round gold building? Where was it? Was it real?

The photo was an aerial view similar to the one below

I quickly discovered that it was real. The photo was of an experimental town in India called Auroville and that glorious golden spherical building was The Matrimandir.

I needed to learn more…cue an evening of Googling and reading.

Auroville, is situated near Pondicherry, on the eastern coast of India in the state of Tamil Nadu.

“But it sounds French?” I hear you muse.  It was designed by the French architect, Roger Anger. Auroville is also known as the City of Dawn and it gets its name from “aurore”, the French word for dawn and “ville”, the French for town/city.

The Matrimandir, the golden building that caught my eye on the laptop’s wallpaper is also known as the Temple of the Mother and the Soul of the City, and is built at the heart of Auroville in a large open area called Peace.

I was still intrigued….

Now for a brief history lesson (I’ll share more detailed info links below for the history geeks and curious among you)

Step back in time to the early part of the 20th Century and that’s where you will find the origins of Auroville. There was an Indian philosopher, yogi and maharishi called Sri Aurobindo. He was a political activist but whilst in jail, he had a mystical/spiritual experience that led to him developing a spiritual practice on his release that he called Integral Yoga. He settled in the Pondicherry area and collaborated with a fellow spiritual guru and yoga teacher, Mirra Alfassa, who was also known as The Mother to her followers.

In 1926 they founded the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. After Sri Aurobindo’s death in 1950, Mirra Alfassa continued their work, pursuing his vision,  and in 1964 the Sri Aurobindo Society passed a resolution to establish a city dedicated to that vision- Auroville.

In her first public address in 1965, Mirra Alfassa, the society’s executive president declared “Auroville wants to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity.”

 Three years later on 28 February 1968, in front of representatives from 124 countries, Auroville was inaugurated. Mirra Alfassa wrote and delivered a four point charter, setting forth her vision for the city and its ethos of integral living.

  1. Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. But to live in Auroville, one must be the willing servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
  2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
  3. Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future. Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within, Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
  4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual human unity.

Initially self-governing, Auroville aspired to have 50 000 residents. It’s initial community was considerably smaller, numbering around 400. By the late 1980s two acts had been passed that saw the creation of a three tier governing system for the city formed of the Governing Board, the Residents Assembly and the Auroville International Advisory Council. These three tiers work in harmony and collaborate to continue to try to accomplish the vision for Auroville as set out in the charter.

So, where does the Matrimandir fit into all of this?

The Matrimandir, in all its glorious golden splendour, is the heart of the community. Matrimandir translates to Temple of the Mother and is a place of spiritual significance to the practitioners of Integeral Yoga. It’s foundation stone was laid at sunrise on 21 February 1971, Mirra Alfassa, the Mother’s, 93rd birthday. Sadly, she never saw the finished temple as she passed away in 1973. It took 37 years to complete the magnificent building with its stunning Inner Chamber and it was finally completed in May 2008.

Today Auroville has a population of circa 3000 from 54 different countries and has been endorsed by UNESCO. The temple and surrounding gardens are open to visitors. This is not a tourist site however. It is a place which should be visited in a quiet mental and physical state, a place of contemplation and meditation. You can book a visit to the Inner Temple on an individual basis for some quiet reflection.

I think I may just have added another destination to my travel “bucket list”.

Information links (for the curious)

Welcome to Auroville | Auroville

Auroville – Wikipedia

Matrimandir – The Soul of Auroville

Matrimandir – Wikipedia

Sri Aurobindo (sriaurobindoashram.org)

Integral Yoga (Satchidananda) – Wikipedia

(All images sourced via Google – credits to the owners)

My Measly Mason Jar of Motivation

Deciding what to write each week on here can be tough, especially if the “real “ world has been encroaching on the creative one.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been taking part in an online writing sanctuary. (I mentioned it last week  Fragments | Coral McCallum ).One of the takeaways from the workshops was this…

My Measly Mason Jar of Motivation. It’s filled with writing prompts that were kindly provided by the course facilitator. (Thanks, Beth) It’s a mix of words, phrases, and questions to ponder.

I thought I’d give it a try for this week’s blog.

Here goes…..

And the words I have pulled from the Measly Mason Jar are OBLIVIOUS and A SMALL BOY……hmmm

A vast expanse of monobloc driveway was his Jurassic world. Dinosaurs from all eras roamed freely across the terracotta plains. In their midst was a small boy, hunkered down as he acted out battles and adventures with his plastic companions. Lost in the innocent world of a child’s imagination, he played contentedly while his dad was busy mowing the lawn.

As the dinosaurs traversed their terracotta plains, they encountered an obstacle…Two Step Mountain. Only the biggest and strongest and the small boy’s favourites made it to the plateau on top of the mountain. Once up there, the herbivores grazed on an undisturbed coir field, feasting until their bellies were full.

Oblivious to the fact that anyone was watching, the small boy played on.

Hours later, as darkness fell, the driveway and doorstep lay silent. The colourful dinosaurs were scattered all around. Indoors, the small boy was no doubt sound asleep.

With a weary sigh, the small boy’s dad herded the dinosaurs into their plastic crate ready for their next adventure.

Fragments

Over the past few days I’ve been taking part in an online winter writing sanctuary. There are still a few days to go but the assignments have been fun. I thought I’d share this one with you.

Snuggling into the sanctuary of my fur-lined hood, I set off on my early evening meander. Thoughts, some more random than others, flit by as I walk. Slowing my breathing, I calm my frazzled mind by whispering my Reiki precepts to myself as I walk down the hill at a leisurely pace towards the river.

It’s blue hour. It’s quiet. The tree at the foot of the hill stands tall, its branches bare. It reminds me of the cover of Shinedown’s Leave A Whisper album. Good album that.

My mind wanders to an unanswered What’s App from earlier…. wonder what my friend is doing right now? I wish they were walking beside me. Been a while since I’ve seen them. Need to sort that…

The patches in the tarmac pavement trigger imaginative thoughts. What if each separate patch led you into an alternative world? ..a bit like worlds that Will cuts into with the subtle knife in His Dark Materials. I’ll need to find time later to watch the final episode of that…. The books were better.

The pampas grass that grows beside the pavement catches in my hood. I trail my gloved fingers through the leafy fronds. I wonder if the pink pampas grass I’ve lovingly tended from seeds to mature plants will ever bear pink fronds? Time will tell, I guess…

A queue of cars lines the road. The drivers impatiently wait their turn to enter the crowded ferry terminal to catch the boat across the river. Where are all these people going? Where have they been? Have they had a long day? A good day? Or are the just desperate to get home for dinner? Dinner…what to cook? Not much choice left in the fridge. Breaded chicken, chips and beans? Sounds like a simple plan.

Turning for home, I feel the wind in my face, its icy chill stinging my cheeks. Dodging the puddles on the pavement, I gaze upon the Christmas lights that twinkle in the houses to my left. Some white. Some colourful. Some tasteful. Some…well, let’s leave that thought there.

When I reach the turn off to head back up the hill, my steps falter and I sigh. My heart’s heavy. I take my time walking up the long drag of a hill, wondering if there are any deer watching me as I pass by the small area of woodland. Drops of rain are falling now. Nature’s tears. Home beckons.

Warmth envelopes me as I step inside. My meander complete for another day. Each walk is a kaleidoscope of thoughts, hopes, regrets and dreams…the unspoken colours of the day.

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On this day in 2013, it all began….

Happy 9th birthday to my blog!

As I step cautiously into its 10th year (eek!), I thought I’d reflect on 9 lessons learned so far during this creative journey.

  1. It is possible to write and self-publish that novel that’s been living inside you for years. (I wouldn’t have believed that back in 2013 but I do now- 7 books later)
  2. There’s something to be gained and/or learned from each and every review and comment on your creative work. (Yes, even from the less than positive experiences.)
  3. Despite my initial fears, it is possible to find something to blog about once a week every week. (So far so good!)
  4. Embrace technology and social media. Back in 2013, I never for a second thought I’d have .co.uk after my name, stars after my books worldwide on Amazon or have a podcast (Ok its an electronic voice reading the posts not mine – one step at a time!)
  5. Believe in yourself. (Friends- stop sniggering! Yes, it took longer than it should have done for me to learn that lesson.)
  6. Be curious. Blog topics over the years have come from all manner of sources, including the label on the wine we had with dinner one night ( This one – just in case you were curious 19 Crimes…. and a glass or two of wine | Coral McCallum)
  7. Don’t be afraid to experiment with your creativity. I’ve used this blog as a proving ground for many diverse ideas, genres and characters over the years.
  8. Support other creative souls. It takes a certain amount of courage to expose yourself creatively to the world so show your support for others who have taken that leap of faith. Guests are always welcome here.
  9. Have fun! Creativity should be fun (well, most of the time)

I couldn’t have made it this far along the way without your love and support. Every blog you’ve read, every book you’ve bought, every person you have told about the books and/or blog – every single word helps to fuel the fires of creativity and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Another year is drawing to a close so I’ll seize this opportunity to wish you all the best for the new year when it arrives. May 2023 be kind to us all.

Love n hugs

Coral xx

(image sourced via Google – credits to the owner)

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Continue the Story… at the end of a long hard journey

With her backpack on her shoulder, she pushed open the café door with a sigh of relief. She’d made it! It had been a long arduous journey. Her bare feet were weary after trekking along the beach for days, following her natural instincts to reach her destination. Feeling the tiled floor deliciously cool under her hot feet, she made her way to the only remaining empty table then lowered herself down onto the pine chair.

At the next table, there was a young girl sitting nursing a latte looking as exhausted as she felt. The girl’s clothing was caked in mud and there were twigs and leaves in her tangled ponytail.

Beyond her sat an agitated middle-aged man who was staring down at a map muttering, “This can’t be right “ over and over again.

To her left an old lady sat primly drinking a cup of tea from a bone china cup, complete with matching saucer, her finely wrinkled face awash with relief. At her feet, a small white dog with a blue collar lay curled up asleep.

Over at the table in the corner, a man sat heating his hands on a mug of soup. Beside him were skis and boots, both leaving icy puddles on the tiled floor.

In the opposite corner sat a runner, sweat running down his forehead into his eyes as he drank thirstily from a sports bottle.

They had all made it to the café, no matter what route their journeys had taken them.

Setting her backpack down on the floor, she let out a low groan of relief at the removal of the weight from her slender sunburnt shoulders.

Glancing up, she saw a waitress approaching, her welcoming smile melting away her exhaustion and warming her heart.

“Honey,” she began as she turned to a fresh page in her notepad. “What can I get you?”

“A lemonade would be good, thanks.”

“Anything to eat? You look like it’s been a tough trek to get here.”

Suddenly realising she was ravenous, she said, “Pizza, please. A pepperoni pizza.”

“Coming right up,” promised the waitress, noting the order in her pad. “Oh, where are my manners! Welcome to There. Everyone gets here eventually.”

Silently Watching With Help From The Long Night’s Moon…the realisation

Cradling Meryn in his arms, Jem touched down lightly in the small courtyard beside the beach hut shortly before dawn. Hearing his arrival, Trine threw open the door, swathing the area in light.

“Meryn!” she gasped as she saw him standing there with the exhausted vampiress in his arms.

“She collapsed,” explained Jem as he stepped unsteadily inside.

“Lay her down before you fall down,” said Trine, rushing to open her bedroom door. “You look as though you’ll collapse too!”

With his mother settled on the bed, Jem fell to his knees on the floor, his own exhaustion overwhelming him now that he knew she was safe.

Quickly, Trine fetched him a glass of blood infused wine, discreetly whispering a strengthening spell over it. He drained it in one long thirsty mouthful.

“Is Meryn hurt?” asked Trine, kneeling beside the unconscious vampiress and taking her hand in hers.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, feeling the warmth of the wine coursing through his parched veins. “She’s just knackered. We worked for hours without a break.”

“Doing what?”

“Sealing Anna into her illusion,” he revealed.

“Sealing her in?”

He nodded, “Meryn has created a shell over the illusion that Anna placed around her tomb. It was safer than trying to touch her dark magic creation. It took both of us all our strength to seal it.”

“And when did you learn magic?” quizzed Trine, raising one pale eyebrow as she stared at him.

“My mother taught me a couple of bits and pieces when we were all stuck at the castle. Basic stuff,” he replied, hoping she didn’t see through his white lie. “She’d been chanting for over an hour before she asked for my help. Was easy enough to copy what she was saying.”

Looking doubtful, Trine turned her attention back to Meryn.

“I’ll sit with her,” she said softly, gently stroking the vampiress’ hand. “You go and get some rest.”

Dragging himself to his feet, Jem nodded, “Waken me if she wakes up.”

“I will. Promise. Now, go. Sleep!”

Screaming obscenities into the still night air, the dark angel stood staring up at the full moon. She’d tried every incantation and spell she knew that should have allowed her to transport beyond her illusion and all of them had failed.

Meryn! She had to be the one behind this Anna deduced… her and her son. Unless she could find a way to break the spell, she realised that she would be trapped in her own illusion with nothing to feed her. She would die a long painful death by desiccation…