August

Hi!
It is I - again!

I last wrote to you in February. I am sure it must have been something profound. Words are my tool - my friends - my notes - my colours painted on a canvas of troubles and joys. So here I am again. After my spluttering start in February. February is still lying there.

Well it must be said that 2014 has done more damaged than I predicted. The world's a messier place - conflicts abound - refugees clutter many dusty places - the misplaced are often certain that they will never see home again - and if they do what is left will crush their hopes and memories of a better former day.

So breakfast is done - there are pills before food and pills after. For me more pills to supplement my dwindled supply of neurotransmitters so essential for every move I make. Thanks Doctor James (1817) for giving your name to this perplexing condition.

I am on study leave! I almost forgot. My sortie into post-structuralist theories is going well so far. The paper itself is "Conflict Resolution" aka Mediation - and the specific approach "Narrative Mediation". I had a week of lectures/tutorials/role play and need to write up a verbatim of the final session. It's going to be fun watching myself on video. The best thing about the week's work was landing with a lovely group - the "big 6". There has to be a South African or two there to come up with that name. I really should get back on Moodle and do some more work there!

On a more cheerful note - most of the official winter days are behind us. There is still snow in predicable places but not here in the city of sails! Plenty of rain still - one never really knows how many different conditions will assault us in a 24 hour period.

Talking about assaults - the weather did take a turn on the day I signed up at a local Gym. I promised the lady instructor that I would not be the first person to lose concentration and be sent flying by the tread mill. So far so good. My primary exercise remains walking Jessie - my close companion who is delighted that I have sixty days off work for my studies. She is faithfully at my side as we speak - surrounded by an array of doggie toys. The moment I move - she will hand (mouth?) to me something to engage in tug-of-war or catching.

Here she is - as a puppy! The fully grown version is gorgeous too.

Well August is pressing on. Yesterday was the 8th - my mother's birthday. She left us on the same day as Princess Diana. There will be more memories lurking when the 31st comes. Funny thing is that I still have days when I think it would be good to give her a call! I wonder what she would be saying about the muddles the world is dealing with today?

As we get older our memories seem mixed up - I can't remember sometimes where we lived (or where they lived) in our previous 5 towns, but I remember the faithfulness and kindness of those amazing saints who were our allies in the proclamation of His Kingdom. They were mainly humble folk - faithfulness matters most. Humility is summed up in this Maori saying: Kāore te kumara e kōrero mō tōna ake reka. "The kumara does not say how sweet he is".

Well we are counting the days until Spring. Until then

Robin aka RevvyP

Hello 2014

I last wrote on this blog a year ago. How frightening that something you love can die in you. Creativity, energy, the very life and power of your words can be sucked out, dulling mind, heart, soul and passion and crushing that once fuller flow of these created code-bearers. Words. Spoken they give life or sting, cut and bruise. Written they speak to you again as you see yourself and something of your deepest being on the page or screen.

Where did I go? Why this long silent blankness?

And what inspired this start again? A boy called Ben who spewed out heart and entrails on another page.

He is one of many young men who inspired and challenged me - I have to admit this here - I miss those heady interactions, conversations, hours of sparring. The loss like spear piercing, blade slicing. As when winded - all that groaning and gasping.

So why did I leave them behind? They asked me that too - why are you going? A call - I said - back to what I used to be and do.

Had I only known how it would try to kill me. Doubts, rejection, pain and anger that dulled and crushed so that I could not scream as I would or should. Their arrogance and mockery - crueler blows and slicing dicing words, posts, reports and choruses.

So thank you Ben. Your honesty and open-hearted declarations and wrestlings have spurred me on. Have helped me put this pen to paper once again - restored a sense, a glimpse - a taste of hope again.

A spluttering stuttering start is better than none at all.

Hello twenty fourteen. A year yet to announce its new assaults. Here I am. I will face you and you will not destroy or drown out this voice - these sentences - this heart will not be silenced. This song will again be sung, this silent one will speak and paint new scenes and vistas with these words - again.