Tuesday, 17 November 2015

turn the tide

冤冤相報何時了?At some point someone has to start forgiving and turn the tide. As ever the challenge is how to love the sinner whilst hating the sin. 

Monday, 28 September 2015

And then

... I stuffed the leftover crevices in my boxes with newspaper, and sealed them up with tape. I put one UPS label onto each box in preparation for the pickup tomorrow. Now they are all sitting in a row (all 11 of them), and I pray that none of them are over-weight (30 kg). 

Feels like another phase of my life is wrapping up. I've moved from one continent to the next more times than I care to recall. The first time, I was 9 years old and had a aqua-marine striped canvas tote bag (carry-on) and that was all my luggage (my parents packed other things, but that was outside my jurisdiction). When I was 19 I moved to the UK with one suitcase and one sleeping bag. After I laid out the sleeping bag and put my clothes away in the wardrobe, my toothbrush sat on the windowsill and my dorm looked very cold and empty (soon I furnished it with charity shop finds). 

Ever since my moves have been increasing in frequency. I don't really want to think of them now.

As ever, the only way is forward. 

Monday, 14 September 2015

Since when did I become...

an advocate of kindness?

Friday, 11 September 2015

what it's like to live in survivor mode

... to learn to live without the things that are so necessary, to the point of distrusting the existence or the proffered offerings of friendship, understanding, appreciation.  

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Friday, 21 August 2015

If you wanted to torment yourself about it...

nobody could stop you.

So think about the way you were taught to fall back into the waves and trust that the water will buoy you up, and know that those times when you were pulled down were not the norm, nor your destiny.

It's just hard when I feel like I have so much to lose. 

Thursday, 20 August 2015

But the kids are alright

WireTap: How to Age GracefullyCBC Radio's WireTap is saying farewell. In this special video message, people of all ages offer words of wisdom to their younger counterparts.
Posted by CBC Radio on Wednesday, 19 August 2015

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

On bird-like things

“I love Love—though he has wings,
         And like light can flee,”

(Shelley, "Rarely, rarely, comest thou")

Tuesday, 16 June 2015

Quite often

... it is the most difficult times I look back on.

Don't let go of me, ok?

Sunday, 31 May 2015

cast your fears aside...

 and do something useful for a change.

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

The world is charged with the grandeur of God

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Gerard M. Hopkins

Wednesday, 6 May 2015


 In the wreckage of a terrible childhood, Danielle Henderson “decided to take the love I’d have for a child and give it to myself instead… Every day, I try to be my own parent—the parent I never had.”

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

Angels of the Universe

Once we set off for Saudarkrokur and were halfway there when Peter suddenly stopped, scratched his dark grey stubble, adjusted his glasses on his nose and said, 'I've got to turn back. The shed's locked. The ghosts can't get in or out.

We sat by the side of the road and waited a long while for Peter. When he came back, he said: 'They were really relieved,' and judging from his expression he was telling the truth.


The madman says he's dead and been buried. Every Sunday he goes up to the cemetery and puts flowers on his grave.


This caused considerable concern to Brynjolf. One day he called me into his office, wanting to probe my sense of morality.

At least, he asked, 'What do you think about Southern Sausages?'
'SS,' I said. 'Do you mean the hot dogs or...'
'Precisely what you said, SS. Don't you think it's outrageous, Paul, for the largest food producer in Iceland to put up with having the same abbreviation as Hitlers's stormtroopers?'

I didn't know exactly what I should say. I had never considered the matter from that angle, but it certainly invited the misconception that Souther Sausages of Iceland Ltd had been behind all manner of dirty deeds in the Third Reich.

After a moment's thought I said to Brynjolf, 'If you go on like that I've got a nasty feeling you and I ought to swap seats.'