Today I went for a drive in the country. Well actually I was driven out into the countryside of rural Hertfordshire by a colleague in his Range Rover. I certainly wouldn't have risked the snow covered roads. Yes, once again the snow has descended on my part of the world. It was so beautiful out there, fields and woods all draped in white. The place we went to had been built on the site of an old country house that burned down years ago. Such houses seem to dot the landscape around here. I wonder how many lottery winners buy such places and get utterly depressed by the new found emptiness of their lives; lives where they can trust no one and everyone is after their money? I doubt I will ever be such a person.
Our trip was fruitless in the end but it was nice to escape the confines of my cluttered office and frenetic pace of new referrals I am getting. But it was this afternoon that was more interesting. Sometimes I come face to face with my past-today was one such day. I spent the whole of my last year at Cambridge psychotically depressed. The only cheer in my life was my American football. Contact sports can be very good to lift the failing mood.
I met a young man today in the same predicament that I faced all those years ago. I had no one to turn to but he has me. Am I up to the task? I do hope so as he is struggling so much. Despite my experience each new student brings that question, what if I can't help? As ever only time will give us an answer to that.
Now home I supped on roast chicken and am slowly drinking a chilled glass of Sicilian white. In the background the rest of Peter Grimes is playing. Tomorrow we go back as I do each day until April. Then and only then will it slow down. Until tomorrow.
I Heard a Voice.
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