Perfect Poise, Perfect Life
Bring your body into balance and revolutionise your life
By Noel Kingsley
Publisher Hodder Mobius
AVAILABLE HERE

A disembodied heart?

A visit to Stinford Church in Dorset brought us in touch with England's literary past and the grave of Thomas Hardy, author of The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886), The Woodlanders (1887) and Tess of the d'Urbervilles. He's buried alongside members of his close family and his two wives are actually buried in the same grave as his heart. I was puzzled to find his grave, as I had always believed that he was buried in Westminster Abbey in London, not a small village churchyard in Dorset. Incidentally Cecil Day-Lewis, poet and father of the actor Daniel Day-Lewis is also buried in the same cemetry; a place that is clearly host to many of our English greats.

On reading the text on the tombstone, one discovers that it is only his heart that is buried in Stinford; his body, or the rest of it, so to speak, is actually in London. His ashes are buried in Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey.

I recall the text of my Last Will and Testament that I have had drafted and as yet still awaits my signature when I return to London later this week after our break in the country. An almost automatic inclusion is a line or two; the exact wording escapes me; but it says something along the lines of... "I donate all of my organs for use in medicine and science, but only after I am dead and only after it is confirmed so by a professional person of suitably qualification." Or something like that... I'm glad that this little statement is in my Will, as otherwise I'd be a little nervous about the possibility of any little removals of something important to my life, if there was any possibility that I could draw another breath.

So Thomas Hardy's disembodied heart lies at Stinford Church while the biggest part of him lies in the grandeur of Westminster Abbey. Apparently he wanted to be buried at Stinsford but the authorities deemed him too important to be interred in such a small, if not important village and they had him buried at the London Abbey. However Hardy did get his way and his heart was buried as he wished. I just hope he too had someone suitably qualified to certify he was completely and utterly dead before authorising the removal of his heart...

Tomorrow we go walking in Dorset with a visit to Mapperton Gardens with my cameras.

Looking west from Golden Cap

View looking east towards Golden Cap, Dorset

We are having such fantastic weather for October it feels just like the end of summer. Yesterday's walk took us from the woodland parking area behind the woods on the hilltop horizon in this picture along the clifftops and up to Golden Cap. The previous day's views from St Catherine's Chapel had been lovely overlooking the low rolling hills towards the sea, but the views from Golden Cap were absolutely spectacular. Not only could we see Lyme Regis to the west lying snug in its bay, but far beyond to the faint and hazy coast where Exmouth sparkled in the sun and then even further to the shore of south Devon; using binoculars we could even make out the town of Paignton! It is 32 years since I visited Paignton and I saw it again yesterday from the rather greater distance of about 30 miles.

I had a strange feeling of seeing across a great distance to a town I'd once visited, but also looking at it through time. I doubt back in 1975 when I walked along a cliff top above Paignton, Devon that it would have occurred to me that so many years later I would look towards that coast from a far away hill and reflect back. Maybe if I look in the other direction now, I'll see where I shall eventually stand and look back at my lovely walk on Golden Cap in the golden light of an amazing warm October day.