Saturday, August 21, 2010
Tasmania speaks: reflections on place and space
Tasmania is beautiful. Wet but stunning. I came a day early. I’m trying to explore how to do the whole speaking thing in ways that are more human. So rather than race in and out, I asked if I could come a day early and have a “still day.”
It made for a really, really stressed Monday-Thursday, but a very rich Friday. I worked on some exercises suggested by my spiritual director, I did an act of creative writing – the wounded picture – that has been lurking for some time. Then I changed track after lunch and worked on some research – evaluating birth narratives/how fresh expressions start (for the Sept UK conference trip).
Today I woke to this beach. The wind and rain had done their worst, and left a beautiful pristine slice of heaven.
There’s a metaphor in that. Storms are stink. Wet and depressing. But the days after can be magic. Such is the gift of a storm.
No Comments
No comments yet.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.