Sunday 24 December 2023

A Windswept Sea.

The wind is blowing across the shingle beach. Waves rise and crash. And the sky a threatening grey. Mum would not have swum today. 

Yesterday I escaped to Kent for Christmas. It was an unusually good journey. Work is done for the year.

The anger and paranoia of my last post has dissipated and I'm good. 

I didn't get that job but I am not disheartened. There will be others. As I said to people at the time it was an opportunity rather than a desire burning or otherwise. 

A year ago on Boxing Day I descended into hell. The worst crash in 30 years. For a long time I was paralysed by fear, by failure and by expecting too much of me. But fought back.

As the world grapples with war, famine, disease, climate change and man's propensity to destroy itself I can only control parts of my little world. 

And today I'm with my family, near the beach in East Kent. 

The great day awaits us tomorrow. A sumptuous feast of roast goose will decorate our table. We will go to the beach as the sun sets. Christmas pudding will follow. Then cheese and wine late into the night. 

For a day or two the gesture of peace on earth goodwill towards men will mark my life even as darkness encloaks the world. Please be kind to yourself and to others  

I Heard a Voice. 

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