I’m a fifty something orphan. Like my parents, I want to keep on going to the end – loving, giving, believing and hoping. Proverbs talks about the woman who ‘laughs at the days to come’. In the second half, I want to live lightly. This I struggle with. I suffer betimes from the disease of introspection. My friend says I always have a broom in my hand – I’m either sweeping the floor ( I clean when I’m stressed) or beating myself up with it.
I’d rather have a pen in my hand than a broom so that I can record what I think and feel. This is another kind of journal – a conversation with myself, and you if you’re listening.
My favourite poet is GM Hopkins. He writes how I feel – anxiety and doubt with generous smatterings of gratitude and hope. I love his challenge to himself to ‘leave comfort root room’ and ‘call off thoughts awhile elsewhere’. This is an attempt to find my elsewhere.