In the space of a paragraph, from silence, to wind, to a sudden arrival of heavy rain. Grey window, indistinct horizon. That familiar, pleasant sound on the roof of this barn. End of April, and perhaps I should get in some logs for the fire.
Bright start, and then that very clear, very concentrated light you get when there are rainclouds massing on the horizon but they haven't quite cut off the sky yet. Back to the weekdays in an unaccustomed silence. But the wind is starting up again. This is a day for new things, cleaned air, resolutions made real, the "now you've got to do it" part of an idea scribbled down in a still, inspired moment. This is the moment I was looking towards when I wrote those notes, and now it's here, bigger and more complex than I could ever have thought it would be. A lesson never learned.
In the space of a paragraph, from silence, to wind, to a sudden arrival of heavy rain. Grey window, indistinct horizon. That familiar, pleasant sound on the roof of this barn. End of April, and perhaps I should get in some logs for the fire. Stormy morning. Rain and big billowy wind. Woke early, then a pleasant hour with the papers in the kitchen, then the sudden thought: get on. Transitions these days - there seems to be no choice about them; sometimes they're hard, sometimes they don't exactly trigger bouts of self-approval. A symptom of the times, perhaps: blogs I follow have gone quiet. So have I. But the weather, the serendipities, the nudges, the sharp and unwelcome jabs in the metaphorical ribs - okay, I'm getting up, I'm UP, really I am, and - hey, how did you make the bed disappear? A guy could hurt himself, dropping to the floor like this.
When we jump off, take the leap of faith, the first thing that happens is that we fall. No great distance necessarily, but there is that heart-stopping moment of falling before we spread our wings and rise to the greater height. This is the time of being pushed because we've hesitated too long, or because we're about to settle on this difficult edge and wrap ourselves in our fear. It's a times of lost patience, lost indulgence. Be pushed and move on and do one other thing: absolve the fall. Work through it, accept whatever lesson it brought you, fly. So much of what we do seems to be focused on maintaining a status quo, so much public discourse, political effort, debate, argument, personal planning, talk, worry - how often is the difficult option just the different one? We're not standing on a rock in this great river of ours; it's actually a leaf held up by nothing more than the surface tension between two clear spaces. Jump. Drove out this morning into a damp world. Fine weather, sunshine like a fully sunny day, but wet ground. Striking combination; the change in the weather must have been from/to an extreme, and rapid. Two of the four elements temporarily out of synch: wet earth and a damp sense of chill in the air, and sun-shining air. In the car park the same theme: bright, dry day with big puddles.
Family lunch at Archie's. Long, lingering look after, as we parted on the road. The unspoken part of it all. Then back to the ordinary. An entry here, just quickly, before finishing with this machine for the day. A film to watch later, and various leftovers to eat, that have to be eaten today. Early night, and then back to the journey. |
What happens hereThis site is no longer updated weekly because I've taken to writing at Medium dot com instead. I may come back, but for now, I'm enjoying the simplicity at Medium.
No data is kept on this site overnight. Medium posts might sometimes turn up here, and posts from here might sometimes turn up on Medium.
Mind you, if you get a sense of deja vu when reading my work, that may be because you've lived this life before. Where are we now? We're hurtling round the sun, held to the ground by a weak force that we don’t begin to understand, arguing about trade deals between the land masses on a planet mostly covered by water.
The dolphins must think us ridiculous. No wonder they only come to the shallow water to play with us, not to signal their most complex philosophies. More. Riddle. It takes two to make me, but when I'm made, I'm only a memory. What am I? Scroll down to find out.
Is that a catastrophe I see before me? Could be. There was a clear sky earlier, but now clouds are encroaching from the North. We could be in for a storm. More.
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Welcome. Thank you for coming. But am I the right William Essex? Click here to meet some more. Read My Shorts?
Here is yet another page of old blog posts and other writings. Sorry, but I need my metaphorical sock drawer for metaphorical socks. The link to the page is right at the end of the paragraph here.
Roads without end
Here is a passage from a review of the book The Road to Somewhere by David Goodhart. I haven't read the book (yet), but the collected reviews would make a worthwhile set of political arguments in their own right. More.
State of the Union
Several commentators today saying that they've lost confidence in the US. Making their point by talking up the glories of the past. After two weeks of this administration, they're not going back.
Were they wrong, and they've seen the light? Or has the US changed? I guess the latter is the intended meaning. But we should at least acknowledge the possibility... More. Categories
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