Kulaprabha

It’s Sunday 8th July. I’ve just waved goodbye to 15 women who have been here with me for 9 days to meditate and reflect on the theme of spiritual death, a retreat called “Touching the Void”. More about that in a later post, maybe. But for now I’m relaxing and having a pottering around day. And at 2pm it’s the men’s singles’ finals at Wimbledon. And hurrah - with the satellite dish now in place on the community house roof, I can actually watch it live. First time I’ve been able to do that in the five years since I’ve been here. Just need to load the lunch dishes into the dish-washer .. latest addition to the community kitchen. It helps us and apparently it saves energy over doing them by hand. Well I’m told that’s the case. I do hope it’s true. As you can see we’re just living the simple country life!!

I watch a bit of the Tour de France first stage - in the UK and wending it’s way through the Kent countryside. 2pm arrives and myself and Hazel are tuned in to BBC1 watching a interview with McEnroe, Conners and Borg. Hazel and I are both of the age when we remember those three at the peak of their tennis careers. Lindsay (who doesn’t remember them) arrives. They are multi-tasking: Hazel is creating a menu plan for our next retreat (two days of a schools visit) and Lindsay is sorting out and counting up the dana from my retreat. As for me, well, 9 days of intensive meditation does make a difference so I’m one-pointedly aware and focussed - on Wimbledon. A wee while later and Sharon joins us. Out of the blue a community afternoon has emerged …. OK we’re sitting round the TV but it is for one of the highlights of the British sporting calendar.

Now I get a bit twitchy watching live tennis, especially when I’m supporting one of the players. Remember those finals with Martina? Steffi? Sampras? Agassi? I didn’t think I minded which of Federer or Nadal won but it quickly becomes loudly apparent to me and the others that my sympathies lie with the Swiss rather than the Spaniard. Probably because of Federer being about to equal Borg’s record of five singles titles in a row. But getting twitchy, I go off at the end of the first set to finish off something on the computer. Then think about taking the mower out and doing some much needed mowing in the grounds. But suddenly the heavens opened and what seems like an inch of rain descends in a few minutes. OK Kulaprabha, grit your teeth, go back in watch the tennis!

But when I went back and popped my head round the door, Federer/Nadal were playing to an empty lounge! I could see my three companions out in the field. They were soaked through. Had they decided to go out and play tennis in the field? No. They had gone out to rescue the mower from the sodden and marshy patch that Sharon had driven it into earlier. It’s easily done, especially since it had rained steadily for the last week or so. Must have been sunnier in SW19 to let Wimbledon finish on schedule. I go out with the news that it was now one set all and give them a hand. Soon we are all carting barrowloads of fallen branches and corrugated iron sheeting over the field to give some purchase to the wheels spinning in the mud. It takes a lot of pushing and heaving but eventually the mower emerges. The mud transfers itself to our clothes and faces. Back inside, we watch the last three sets in relays as we choose the best moments to go off for showers to get rid of the mud.

And later on on TV there they were : the Swiss singles champion, the Spanish runner up. And the Scottish mixed doubles champion with his Croatian partner. Meanwhile an enjoyable Sunday afternoon here ends with pizzas for supper!