Whoot, I'm back. First post in yonks - the longest hiatus in this blog's decade.
It's been a terribly busy 2012, and goodly thoughts are hard to come by when one's brains are soaked in formaldehyde, and squeezed out like a rag sponge, though lemony as things might be. Not that it was a bad year; by all accounts, it was an excellent one, truly adventuresome and fruitful, but toooooo many things to talk about, and by the time I get my head around it, it's much too detailed to share openly on the blogosphere. Ask me in person, instead!
A restful breather in good-ol Bruny Island and Christmas + New Year break back in the ol-sunnypore helped clear the head some, nibbled to resolve forgotten dreams, renewed misplaced friendships, and tested some notions.
But rest and a breather I did not get [enough of] ...
So here I am again, two weeks into 2013, standing on the threshold of yet another formidable mountain of a year ahead - exciting, exhausting, exhilarating, existential, exacting, and yet extraordinary. A veritable Kunlun or Nangar Parbat, rising straight, raw and sheer out of the wild crumble of schist and glacier from the last decade's landscape. Yes - niches of respite there will be, to be sure, and rocky outposts and markers with which to track progress - this will be a long winding year, indeed, which much afear'dly will whizz past uncomfortably quickly.
Standing tall, surveying the travail ahead with binoculars: day, weeks, months - aye - years, into the future. Amazed at all laying up ahead: rivers, bridges, great oaks, quiet meadows, scree-laden lonely paths, yet friends and flowers too for company. Sweet juicy fruits from wild trees, baubles from treasure chests stumbled upon, and colourful balloons plucked out of thin air and dispensed with pleasure. A cloud by day and a fire by night.
"Further up and further in!" calls faithful Reepicheep.
Well, here's to rushing headlong into the year, open to possibilities, fueled with Faith, informed by Hope, led with Love, surprised by Joy, guarded with Peace!
O, excoriate my heart of crusty bits.
Socarrat on paella is fine,
but Batter my heart,
O Surgeon of the soul.
1 comment:
"What I'd have settled for / You've blown so far away / What You brought me to / I thought I could not reach"
(Good Ol' Rich Mullins)
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