Back to work today. I’m the only staff member in the office. While outside the wind and rain that crashed all night come slowly to a halt, in here the silence resounds. There is so much to do. Back for eleven weeks and then the decade or so spent working here will be over. This feels so strange. There’s something very liberating, of course, about a time of transition. But how do I generate the energy required to leave things here in reasonable order? How do I start to look forward – which I must – when the future isn’t here yet? I don’t know. How do I live well enough, productively enough, realistically, tolerably with this not knowing? How do I nurture the raw aliveness and curiosity I occasionally feel and minimise the lostness and numbness that threaten to overwhelm? How do I find words, when this weightless vacuum scarcely seems to support them?
Coming back to what is right in front of me is always a good way. The River of Stones flows again this month. It’s a small and magical practice. Stop. Look. Here you are. Right here. Right now. What do you see? Pay attention. Write it down. I’m kind of amazed and very glad to still be doing this a year after the first attempts. Do have a go, if you haven't previously - or if you have!