I have realised that my life in this magical world is about serving not grasping , about apprenticeship not mastery, about owning my own shadow and accepting the gracious loan of my creative faculties. Anything more is inflating and removes me from the extraordinary ordinariness
I have been somewhat overwhelmed by the reaction to the post 'Now I am 54' after it was graciously featured on ‘Freshly Pressed' It seems that many of us are sufferers from anxiety and depression or stand alongside someone who is.
Yet in the circle of reflection on the morning of departure you saw all the rug pulls in another light and a voice said ‘you know there is great power in your falling’.
Of course I have read many baggy handbooks on the need to be present to my life, to God or even to my dog.
Monday morning wet in the window-framed garden,
The way to pass through the aperture of freedom to an unforced future.
Walking in the woods with you, voicing the ebb and flow of our hopes.
This is the week, in Sheffield, when the blossom is at its best. Blossom As you drive past the hanging blossom of the cherry tree, you are moving too fast. Their pale luminescence an unnoticed glory, a promise, year by year, you fail to keep. But one day soon you will stop, get
Yesterday would have been my Father-in-Law Donald Malcolm's 90th birthday, what a man. Here is the poem I wrote for him remembering the day we fist met. Meeting My Father-in-Law Your warm and bearlike hand grasped my slim, collegiate palm more turned to turning pages than industry and grind. At