Monday, 28 March 2011
So, yesterday I sat down on a seat in the sunshine and tried not to get up again until I’d written something, and was glad I had made the effort, grounded somehow by putting it into words. This, I know, is something I should do more often. But, of course, yesterday was Sunday. Today is Monday and I swim in work. There’s a metaphor in there struggling to get out and not to get too mixed. It’s about the stony ground I’m walking more and more of the time – great big, jagged stones that tip this way and that, so that walking just a very short way is exhausting. It’s about the river of life that somehow keeps on flowing, as long as the stones don’t block the stream completely; the stones whose very heft and jaggedness, shockingly, also open the space for the river to flow through. It’s about pausing every now and then to just trail a hand in the water.
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I can picture the river flowing through and around them.
A hand well trailed...
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