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The phenomena of birth, do you remember? A hesitant beginning to my notebook page. I'm vaguely thinking about human attitudes come into being, some thoughts mapped across my consciousness long ago, like clouds, some readings and writings and talks around anthropology, like stones. And in my own landscape of consciousness these thoughts mingle with readings around Zen from the 1960s.

I ask myself what I choose to reflect upon. Thoughts happen, and then I reflect upon these thoughts. I look at a star, twinkle, I look at the table top, sparkle. I take a deep breath, and breath out slow while reflecting upon the reflection on the table. An unfocused gaze.

A hospital in Walthamstow, the sudden noise and light and opening out, and heaviness, the weight of gravity, no more water to hold me lightly. Hands, cloth, and overwhelming feeling of these phenomena. My mother, letting go of me, a relief and loss at the same time. The hospital environment, the father, ready to hold me, to take me away from my mother. For a moment. A reflection from now, the hospital as the father's domain. Memory. Just a feeling.

Holding on, these things that surround us.
I'll cycle up to the charity shop in West Hampstead today, letting go.
Words 'relief', 'regret' echo in the caves of my landscape of mind.
I reflect upon the lightness, the relief.

And a photograph.
A moment, pondering, mother, father, sisters.
A photograph, a notebook, a page, some words, to reflect.

Another coffee arrives, great, 'thanks'. Must have looked like I needed it.
Outside, rainy day, mild, a walk in a moment.

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