Another grey and insipid dawn greeted me early this morning after another violent dream troubled my sleep. There is I fear a pattern forming here. Not what I wanted on the first day of my holiday.
The day after that terrible atrocity in Christchurch there was noticeably beefed up security for Friday Prayers at the University. My travels don't often take me to places of worship but chance took me there on an outreach visit. When will this unspeakable violence again innocent people of many faiths and creeds across the world end? I'm not sure it will in my lifetime.
Aside from the events of far greater significance than my little dramas I can only focus on my life. And it wasn't the easiest of weeks. Funny how an innocuous comment in therapy can open a Pandora's box of chaos. But in the heat of the moment I decided I wasn't yet ready to fight that demon. I fear the beast being unleashed.
I came home worried, thoughtful and acknowledging that the crossroads I've been stuck at for several years is beginning to show visible road signs. I'm just too frightened to go where I need to go. The pattern I alluded to earlier shows wild mood swings, anger, stress, glory and more Rioja and nicotine replacement. This in turn leads to bad dreams and troubled dawns.
Today did not start well but got better. I saw an old student of mine today to try to give her the wherewithal to get through a PGCE. That is the second such conversation I've had this week. Back at home we were treated to perhaps the most exciting rugby match I have ever seen. Even I might have smiled and said well done if Scotland had held on to win.
Back in what I call home where the kitchen is so important I served myself medium rare pan fried duck breast with pomegranate molasses, rosemary and garlic roast potatoes, carrots, kale and green beans. A triumph in most respects I'm sure the most critical of observers, me, would suggest it was under seasoned. But I did well.
Mozart graces me with his sublime genius and the Rioja is good. Tomorrow brings rolled stuffed lamb breast, another opera and an afternoon reading. The following morrow I head to the seaside. Let's hope the rain stays away along with the violent dreams and thoughts of my many failings.
I Heard a Voice.
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