Thank you for getting this far. The way I see it — if you’re interested enough to click the About Me button on me, then I should honour that. You’re entitled to find out something about me.

I’m left-handed. I like the sound of trees. I live alone in a terraced cottage overlooking the sea. I write. I have a family, but my first rule of writing online is: respect their privacy. So I stick with the ideas and questions that come into my head, and write about those. 

In my book The Journey from Heaven, the angel telling the story says: “I am a child now, born anew into the world of physical things. I am old beyond age.”

I feel that way sometimes. Not everybody gets to be old, and it’s a privilege as well as a — sometimes challenging, yes — life to be lived. I enjoy the camaraderie of it, the sharing. After my “rushed to hospital with chest pains” incident last year (I’m still here), a friend said to me, “You’ve joined the heart club!” Which I suppose I have.

Am I a child now? Life is fun too, or it can be.

I don’t worry in quite the same way that I used to, now that nothing can be “early-onset” any more. As for death itself — nah. Don’t have time. I did enough thinking about that in the Emergency Department last year.

Not today (touch wood). Some day. [Say everything that needs to be said. Be “right-relational” with everybody. It’s liberating to put those thoughts in their proper place.]

And there’s a freedom in, one, knowing what I know about life, and two, knowing that absolutely nobody whatsoever wants to hear from me on that subject. Young people these days can manage without my “When I was young, we did it this way” monologues.

Some tribes have “elders”. Not this one.

I get to ride around on my [electric] bicycle, like I did when I was ten.