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Mature Love.

It’s a chilly one this campervan morning, brought to you from the campervan door looking out towards Dungaven Hill. A firm dew sits on the grass, sporadic daffodils litter the scene, crows call and respond by the dozen. Smaller unseen birds colour the air. The cloud is heavy and grey, breaking to blue and then drifting back to grey again. The occasional car breaks the nature barrier, but other than that firmly bathing in the sights and sounds of all around. It’s interesting to sit with people, feel their experiences, witness their journeys and have yourself reflected in them. Your pain, your laughter, your joy and your sorrow. Experiences to witness and experiences to heal. There have been several occasions over the last few days where I have had to check in and see what the internal reaction is about, acknowledge it and put it to one side to explore. I am on a bit of a Yalom splurge at the moment, he writes in his book Existential Psychology :


“ Mature love is loving, not being loved.”


I sense a huge amount of loving going on for people at the moment as you learn of their experiences and their journeys and we could probably do with a lot more of that. I could write so much more, but time is against me. So go love, lovely days people.


“ Not to take possession of your life plan is to let your existence be an accident.” Irvin D. Yalom.



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