I just got back from Sweden, where I went to the Leonard Cohen concert in the gardens of Sofiero Slot, Helsingborg.  The concert was great!

For those of you who don't know, Leonard Cohen is a poetic genius, songwriter and musician.  He is famous for writing and singing depressing songs, but I think this depends on the interpretation.  However, his songs are very poetic.  He has many links with Buddhism, although I'm not sure whether he would class himself as a Buddhist.

I've been a big fan of Leonard Cohen since I was 13, when I was told that one of his songs being played on the radio corresponded with an increase in suicides at some time in the middle of the night.  I couldn't work out which song it was, but I loved the music and have ever since, mainly because it is so poetic.

In any case, the concert was great.  It was a beatiful and warm day and great to be outside.  He played for about 3 hours covering most of his classics, and it was a great atmosphere, with lots of space to sit on the grass and picnicing.  I varied between standing right up next to the stage and lying on the grass listening to the music.  It was especially good as dusk fell (after 10), he played a number of encores, and the crowd sometimes sang, danced, swayed and generally enjoyed the experience.  One of my big highlights!

I was reading a book recently (The Courage to Heal) that talked about spirituality, and how it might help a person to heal from trauma.  This was contrasted against the traditional idea of organised religion (e.g. Christianity), with the following definition:

'A healing spirituality is the opposite of '...' alienation.  It's a passion for life, a feeling of connection, of being part of the life around you.  Many people experience this in nature, watching the ocean roll in, looking out over a vast prairie, walking in the desert.  When you are truly intimate with another human being, when you are uplifted through singing, when you look at a child and feel wonder, you are in touch with something bigger than yourself.  There is  a life force that makes things grow, that makes thunderstorms and mountain ranges and perfect avacados.  The fact that you can create a baby and give it birth, watch it roll over, then sit up, and then crawl, is a miracle of life.  There's a part of everything living that wants to become itself - the tadpole into the frog, the chrysalis into the butterfly, the damaged human being into a whole one.  And that's spirituality: staying in touch with the part of you that is choosing to heal, that wants to be healthy, integrated, fully alive.' ... 'It's the inner voice that you learn to trust again.'

I've been tonight to a talk at the local Buddhist Centre.  I'm not a Buddhist, I go there mainly for the meditation.   One of the monks (?) was talking about how life is all about suffering, due to our own negative minds, and that we should transcend the negativity to alleviate suffering. 

The trouble is, I don't think life is all about suffering.  To me life is inherently joyful ('behind all this, some great happiness is hiding), and yes, horrible things happen, and life can be awful and difficult at times, but to me there is a bedrock of joy, survival and belief that there is something good.  I sometimes wonder why I am so convinced of this, but I am. 

Is Buddhism mainly for pessimists?  Perhaps I am in denial...

There is a famous poem about Australia that starts 'I love a sunburnt country...', and if I had to think of one word to describe how Australia feels, I'd say sunburnt.  But now I'm here in the middle of winter, and it doesn't feel so sunburnt, but in other ways, it's just as it was when I used to live here, for 17 years, before I moved to England 2 years ago.

Being back, I'm struck by being able to walk across a street in a shopping centre without having to dodge cars, going into a chemist and being offered assistance with no queue in sight, open skies and single storey houses, blue sky and sun that makes me want sun-glasses (even in the middle of winter, although it did rain today, unusually!), newness, quietness, neatness, streets in which every house is different from its neighbour, sleepiness, not being looked in the eye in the street, slow traffic light changes - most strongly, emptiness!  I was at a conference here last year with some people from Germany - they all asked where all the people were!

Emptiness can be good and bad - to someone who wants excitement, activity, buzz, social contact and stimulation, it is bad; to someone who wants to get things done in a city, it can be good.  I miss the emptiness, but I'm starting to get used to the buzz of a busier country, with the feeling of being a bit hyped up all the time.

On this, my second visit to Australia since I moved to England, I'm starting to notice the things I miss about England - a great selection of frozen meals and organic food in the supermarket, great museums and art galleries, good central heating and double glazing, being able to find groups, clubs, activities and exhibitions close enough to visit, being able to get to any part of the country in less than a day, travelling to so any countries and places in only a few hours and being able to work with a wide range of interesting people and having more interesting conferences to go to than I can manage.

They both have their good points - I think my heart's still in Australia, but gradually moving across the world!

You get used to living in a place - it somehow seeps into your bones, and you start to feel as though it is normal.  After living in the England for 1.5 years,  it has started to become part of me.   Although there are things about England that I don't like, and I certainly miss Australia and my original home, NZ, England has a feel about it that is now something like home.  I'm not sure that I can explain what it is. 

When I first moved there, on the surface it seemed so similar, but it felt so different - as though it were screaming, crying, shouting.  In contrast, Australia hums dully, peacefully, calmly.  Australia is shiny, fresh, sparkling and dry like dead tree branches on the ground; England is like a crowd of cranky old people who yell at you, then tell you their life stories and give you biscuits!  But mostly, England groans with activity, hobbies, eccentricities, clubs, groups, old houses, new houses, people, crowds, carparks, picnics, fetes, churches, ramblers, signs, instructions, broken people, lost people, discovering people and celebrating people.  You squeeze your life into the gap between all the things that went before and are still there.  Mostly, Australia is empty, lying on the back lawn with a book over its face.  Your life can sprawl where ever it wants to.  The difference is hard to get used to.

But the life of a nomad - how to go forward, knowing another new place awaits with new people, new lives and a feeling all of its own?  And even harder, how to go back, knowing what you've already left behind and moved on from.  In particular, how to go back from a buzzing, groaning life of mad, eccentric, sometimes grumpy chaos, to a life of peace, sleep and serenity?  I don't have to go back of course, or forward, but I have to go somewhere...

I loved this movie, and would recommend it to anyone!  It's full of joy, fun, a real celebation of life.  It's a musical, set on a beautiful Greek Island, where a young woman is getting married, but wants to find out which of three men is her father, so she invites all three to her wedding to try to find the answer.

It's basically a comedy, with Abba songs interspersed, but it's really well done - not corny as you might imagine (well, perhaps a bit corny, but in a good way).  Meryl Streep, who plays the mother of the young woman, is fantastic, and the cast also includes Mr Darcy (aka Colin Firth from Bridget Jones and Pride and Prejudice) who as always is very sexy and plays one of the three possible fathers.  Another is played by Pierce Brosnan (ex James Bond).

I was never a great Abba fan (not the right age), but the songs seem to fit in really well, and the dancing is great, with amazing scenery.  I especially liked 'Our last summer' sung on the boat mainly by Colin Firth; 'Mamma Mia', a great avalanche of woman dancing down the hillside and then on a wharf and of course 'The Winner Takes It All'.  A tip though: don't leave before the credits!