This morning held a few of those rare moments you savour in the bluster of life. Samie gave me the morning off our Tranist training block to rest and clear my head, so bundled up in Charlotte's overgrown parker I meandered down to the river behind the Reading Boiler Room to stop and look at the world...
As I sat on the bench, watching the swans I tipped my head back and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my face. It's a good feeling, I haven't had the pleasure in a while. A few deep breaths later and I opened my journal and began to write. What a relief. My little window to peace was prised and wedged open and my head and heart noise spilled onto page after page in my scrawly, blue script.
It's been a while since I made a solid chunk of journaling time. The last month is comprised of hastily scribbled notes and memories stuck down with pritt stick. Writing my stream of consciousness to God was cathartic. An exhalation of worry, thoughts, thanks and prayers.
Even a sudden burst of rain didn't stem the tide, as I decamped to the shelter of a childs climbing frame and huddled up against the wind I smiled as I realised how strange I must look. I'm one of the most purely extroverted people I know but solitude is incredibly important to my piece of mind.
When Faith Forster shared in Amsterdam three years ago about balancing your human and eagle face, your engagement with people and solitary, soaring time with God I was struck. The tension between the two seemingly opposing sides of life has always been apparent to me. Through the last few years her words have come back to me and been an effective check on my personal life.
This morning my eagle soared for an hour with God. xc