Early morning misty rain under the oak this campervan morning. It threatens to worsen, so not sure how long I will be here. The cloud heavy purples, greys and creams above me seeming almost stationary. The rain becomes more persistent, but tolerable. It’s quite pleasant, the breeze that brought the chill of the last few days has gone. My current blackbird companion is in the ash announcing to the world. I’ve not seen the starlings for a few days now, robins bob here and there, though everyone now seems bent on taking shelter has the rain begins to pour and that heralds my retreat. Just catching the sound of a myriad of droplets falling onto earth and grass to be replaced by roof and glass. A relatively quieter natural morning replaced by the sound of rain. Plans finalised for adventures to the northern most reaches of the Shetlands and Orkney’s in a few weeks as well as drum circling on the west coast of Scotland the Troissachs to rekindle friendships and another visit to the spiritual home of drum circle facilitation to help run another course. So travel and experiences to come brings just a wee bit of excitement. The opportunity once more to step out of the usual suburban hum and slow the pace down a little. I am looking forward to visiting some sacred spaces though as Wendel Berry wrote :
“ There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places “.
I am slowly working my way through James Canton’s book ‘Grounded’. He writes “ That features of the natural world enhance our sense of the sacred nature of a place.”
I am not sure if I have used the following quote before, but as I continue my journey through the works of Rebecca Solnit, she was drawing on her experience of her relationship with her mother and wrote that her mother :
“ Told her own story largely as a series of things that happened to her rather than things she did “.
This jolted me when I read it some time ago and is one of my primary drives. I was most definitely not going to be one of those people whose story was made up of things that happened to me, rather than things that I did. I sit and listen to my own mother whose conversations revolve around things that happened to her as well. Perhaps it’s a generational thing, or an age thing ? It’s spurred me on to DO things rather than be done by things, so to speak. Lovely days people.
“We all live in that world of images and stories, and most of us are damaged by some version of it, and if we’re lucky, find others or make better ones that embrace and bless us”. Rebecca Solnit.
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