There and Back again

Seemed like longer than a week. In a good way. I’ve been up to the Abbey three times now and on each occasion it feels like this, rather Narnia-esque. Must be all the meditation. Feeling both refreshed, and tired. The trip back down from Northumberland took two days and included a taxi, a train ride, a looooong journey on a coach, a lift from my precocious, recalcitrant brother Nat in his new car, a bus ride (stood up), another train ride, and another bus, with a far amount of pedestrian lugging mixed in too. All in all, pretty whacked. So why did I travel literally the length of England just to sit around with a bunch of Monks? Good question. Why did Bodhidharma cross the Himalayas? Don’t ask me, I just work here.


Now I’m back, holed up in my Brighton garret, a mug of tea cooling at my shoulder. Back to the everyday routine, which doesn’t feel quite so everyday anymore. Boxes of yet-to-be unpacked Stuff still filling my bedroom. Some rather unexpected issues with our ex-landlord. The old PhD thing. Ah, the old PhD thing, waiting for me patiently like a stinky old stray dog who won’t leave until I give him a bowl of Winalot. Problems, obstacles, things to be gotten on with.

Dx