« Aotearoa, part near the end | Main | Sigh »

A sheer drop

Day after day, in a carousel of days.

Today is my day off, and I drink coffee in a patisserie. The girl behind the counter is beautiful but not pretty. She has eyes like she does not want to see past herself.

Starting ministry is a freedom that saps at you, like a too much. Like being in a wildnerness, a fog. You work out your way by trial and error. Mostly error.

Sometimes you think you might just be doing the right thing. Sometimes you know you are not with a fierceness that strains at the leash.

The writing is a curious thing that seems to be going … well? Maybe writing is sometimes a bit like subterfuge. When you’re working by imagination and a instinct that has been buried inside you, to speak its name out loud seems almost an act of betrayal. Like naming a co-conspirator.

Sadness twines itself around and through and through, but it is known as well. In being known, it loses power and drama. It is another sort of conspirator - the type whose name we must speak.