When two paths cross each other for a while...

I can't tell from this picture whether I am looking forward and from the past and seeing two roads meeting and becoming one, or looking backwards from the future and seeing how paths became separated.

Perhaps it's just tramlines in a field...

What do you think?

Lost places and forgotten roads

Friday was spent far far away on the east coast of this country. I had arranged to meet a lovely man and wanted to take him to a lovely place, but I had forgotten what it's name was and how to find it. So I never mentioned this lost place and the forgotten road. Instead I went the way of his directions and blindly following an unknown road at his command.

A while into the journey I had a flashback to a place once visited in my childhood, one that I had been thinking of only a couple of days previously and I thought that was the reason for this destination. Then we turned down a road that seemed even more familiar. Suddenly I was no longer lost, but on the road I had forgotten. For he was taking me to that exact place.

Lately there seems to have been a lot of lost places in my life and forgotten roads that cannot be found. It seems like a little glimpse of heaven when you meet someone who knows the way, without you asking how and shows you a secret garden as well, where the roses smell so beautiful in the rain.

Are we living in a war zone?

Sometimes I look at places that live under oppression and see that through that they somehow use the difficulty to bring out the positive things and beauty grows in the brokenness. This can make me wonder whether we need a common threat before we start to pull together as a community. Yet, here in our very communities we live under the oppression that substance abuse brings and we do not seem to be good at fight back as a community. What does it mean to be a community that comes together to challenge the oppressors? Who are the oppressors in the first place?

What now?

Last week I was taking a break from the dissertation and so enjoyed a Saturday out and about visiting Connell, Luing, Easdale and Seil. I drove over the Atlantic and went on a tiny ferry. Theo and I sang songs and examined slate and looked at the sparkling sea. (We decided to make a calendar.)

This week the dissertation is finished and I just don't know what to do with myself. Should I go out and about and enjoy the day or start on the mammoth load of tasks that have been accruing during study lock down?

The home straight...

That last bit of the race. You are well past the halfway mark, and you can hear the crowds cheering you on. The last bit of a race is often the fastest and most comfortable bit of the race. You are in a good stride, the adrenaline has kicked in and from nowhere the energy appears to run faster and stronger and with more grace than you have ever before.

Keeping running. The finish line is in sight.

(Then you can start planning the next race you want to train for.)

For every girl and boy

For every girl who is tired of acting weak when she is strong,
there is a boy tired of appearing strong when he is vulnerable.
For every boy who is burdened with the constant expectation of knowing everything,
there is a girl tired of people not trusting her intelligence.
For every girl who is tired of being called over-sensitive,
there is a boy who fears to be gentle, to weep.
For every boy for whom competition is the only way to prove his masculinity,
there is a girl who is called unfeminine when she competes.
For every girl who throws out her E-Z-Bake oven,
there is a boy who wishes to find one.
For every boy struggling not to let advertising dictate his desires,
there is a girl facing the ad industry’s attacks on her self-esteem.
For every girl who takes a step toward her liberation,
there is a boy who finds the way to freedom a little easier.

Adapted from a poem by Nancy R. Smith

Warrior of Light

Paulo Coelho is one of my favourite authors. Here's what he has to say about leadership... I hope it brings some light to you too.

A long time ago, in my unconscious, I changed the word “leader” for the expression “warrior of light”. What is a warrior of light?

Warriors of light keep the spark in their eyes.

They are in the world, are part of other people’s lives, and began their journey without a rucksack and sandals. They are often cowards. They don’t always act right.

Warriors of light suffer over useless things, have some petty attitudes, and at times feel they are incapable of growing. They frequently believe they are unworthy of any blessing or miracle.

Warriors of light are not always sure what they are doing here. Often they stay up all night thinking that their lives have no meaning.

Every warrior of light has felt the fear of joining in battle. Every warrior of light has once lost faith in the future.

Every warrior of light has once trodden a path that was not his. Every warrior of light has once felt that he was not a warrior of light. Every warrior of light has once failed in his spiritual obligations.

That is what makes him a warrior of light; because he has been through all this and has not lost the hope of becoming better than he was.

That is why they are warriors of light. Because they make mistakes. Because they wonder. Because they look for a reason – and they will certainly find one.