Trailing Words

As I grew up I watched my father slowly disappear into grief and silence, the type of work he did – mostly shift work – upset his nervous system and added to what would now be described as post traumatic disorder incurred through internment by the Japanese in China during the War. I resolved not to get caught working in jobs that were dulling and monotonous, not to be trapped into work routines that took over life.

I spent many years being busy ‘doing’ being rather than allowing myself to be.

This blog I want to meander like a trail, not a straight line or a straight road, as moments between moments, in-dwellings. Maybe it won’t be that. I hope it’s fun and fun to read and that it honours the heart and honours the Earth.