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Thank you, friend Julia for last night’s question – “are you still blogging?” – a painful dig in the ribs and reminder of former passion before going off the track – off the rails – whatever. The dig in the ribs brought a 5 o’clock wake up call to get back on track by backtracking.
What has happened? Well we have moved. Does that count? I suppose it counts more for some than it does for others. For a parish priest it counts a lot especially if it’s a completely different track to tread. The present track is an ordinary one – well worn by so many others. It is an anonymous track that is remarkably unremarkable. The path of the parish priest is a path less trod which verges on celebrity status and power walking.
The running stopped with the blogging. Former routes were all part of a plan for the sense of achievement of the Chester half marathon (at my age!)- there are new tracks, but they seem so insecure mainly because of the dogs.
For the moment – let’s say “I am back on track” – tentatively and lacking confidence. Was the suggestion of a reader over my shoulder the spur I needed? Those readers have gone and remain part of a track that became too deeply rutted for me to travel any further. We parted company resigning my identity of addresses – email, phone – and that driveway I should have so resented. Let’s say I am back on a new track – a pioneer in a wilderness – with this as an opportunity to reflect on a way ahead – spiritual journalling revisited, not as Jogger but as Foxtrotter – ready to explore Lightmoments and grateful that the dislocation was no more painful than it was. It’s a road less travelled – for me anyway.
Thank you Julia. And thank you Fergal OP for the photo – two roads diverged in a yeallow wood.
Grits and Grains 