inner life

when it all goes wrong

It’s 1964. Somewhere in the South-West of England. An unruly Spring day appears before its time.  The insistent sun breaks through with a distant warmth and, partnering with sharp breezes, rouses life like sleepy children from their beds. Soon, lambs will come, shoots, blossom and blooms. Alice lets the fabric of the deckchair take her weight. In the warmth, for a moment, she almost forgets it all.  Almost. The business has failed. Her husband, a man of nearly 50 years, […]

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you are with me, always

This photograph was taken in Zaire – a sovereign state which lasted from 1971 to 1997 – in Central Africa, in the mid-1970’s. The souls pictured have stayed with me since the photograph first took my breath. They seeped into me and, in their way, played a part in pulling me toward Africa. But as a European, it took me years to gather and weave the courage to enter the continent. I had a Colonel great grandfather who was injured […]

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cyclamen and loss

Each Autumn, your tuberous roots stretch their arms after their long summer sleep. Your wooded stems become rich and strong with purples and green, with new life. And each year, as naked trees stand against darkening skies and evenings drawing in, your blooms rise above your heart-shaped leaves, bringing a bold defiant cheer to the leaking conservatory of my aging grandmother’s house. These past years, her arthritic fingers, in last vestige of their nimble past, deftly trimmed you of fading […]

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my huckleberry friend

It isn’t possible to promise those we love continuous health, happiness, prosperity or freedom from heartbreak. But In the end, all our loves need, is us. Our grace. We are the thread that binds them to life’s joys.

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real people

Real people Real people marry more than once, have mortgages, sit at kitchen tables covered with bills to pay. May have many friends or few. Real people have children who no longer speak to them. They grow up in broken families, the best of families or no family at all. Are promiscuous (or secretly dream of being so).  They cannot remember the last time they truly made love, dressed for a romantic night out, indulged on the eyeliner instead of […]

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dancing raspberries and empty trains

Do you remember? You had been away for what seemed like an age. Your assignment was on its third extension.  We had been apart over a year. You wrote me a letter. It has stayed with me, always. I treasure these passages, in particular – they are pages from our love’s holy book. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My love, the distance between us is but a single breath. Think of this… Empty train When I was working in London, traveling into the city […]

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the story of the antique ring

Do you remember? We’d given up on the high street jewelers.  The rings fit on your finger, but they just didn’t fit us. A few weeks later, we were in Portugal. It was beginning to rain and we ducked inside a tired little shop in that backwater town. It was a place that tourists, and even time, had forgotten. A wizened, arthritic old man moved slowly around the small space. An elderly museum curator, going about his well worn rituals. […]

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my favourite colour

There is no colour called love in this world. Yet how thoroughly it has dyed my heart ~Lady Kasa, Japan, mid 8th century   People have been using the medium of art to represent and explore their spiritual connection with their world, for over 35,000 years. The earliest cave art speaks to us. We sense the human continuum of which we are all part. We can almost touch the moment, millennia ago, when a man or woman’s experience, thought, emotion […]

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travel and the art of standing still

The art of travel, experienced as an inner journey of discovery and enrichment, is intimately connected with the art of standing still, of observing the workings and wonders of the world and its people and of ourselves.

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Desert bush

love knows no boundary

‘human relationships are as vast as desert’ ‘…stones, even, are smoother for the dust’ – Patrick White, from the novel Voss (1957)   The place in which we spend more time than any other, is our thoughts, our inner world. It is there that we constantly converse with ourselves, from infancy to death. It is there that we suffer; unspoken traumas, ancient anxieties and caustic self-blame – all dust storms in our deserts of heart and mind that shape and […]

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