Travelling in

A good night's sleep helped me regain my equilibrium after a couple of unexpectedly tiring days. I did two lots of weekly shopping and visited the wound clinic for an early appointment before lunch, but then didn't do much else for the rest of the day, apart from read news stories and ponder.

We heard this morning about Auntie Daphne's funeral arrangements. There's to be a service, a week next Friday at the Parish Church of St Gregory in Dawlish, which she used to attend before she moved into sheltered accommodation some ten years ago. It's a long slow train journey to get there for midday. It would mean leaving at an impossible time, since our domestic routine revolves around ablutions and wound management. So, we'll travel the previous afternoon and stay overnight in a hotel near the station. Sister in law Ann will travel over from Felixstowe and join us there. Exeter is a city we've visited just once, when we were young, so an overnight stop will give us an opportunity for a little sightseeing too.

Lent is under way, and I find myself unable to settle on doing anything special or different this year. While it's true that illness or infirmity dispense a person from the usual Lenten exercises, I'm not so incapacitated by my condition as to feel this applies to me. For months I've had to exercise restraint over the amount I eat, and drinking wine isn't something I can do much of, or all that often. I've had to learn to be more mindful of real bodily needs, rather than consuming for pleasure. That's more how Lenten self-denial is meant to be - awareness and control of appetites in order to be free from being distracted or dominated by them. It's not a practice of virtue, but a necessity at the moment. 

In the past I've made an effort to write a daily biblical or liturgical reflection in Lent, but creative inspiration eludes me at the moment, and I find I have no inclination to pursue a course of study or read a book. Lenten things I hear on the radio or read on-line, often familiar and worthy in their way, seem formulaic, clichéd. I feel in need of spiritual stimulus, but hunting for it 'out there' seems like 'vanity, a chasing after wind'. 

My life is focussed around patiently waiting, being careful to stay as healthy as I can and not do anything to sabotage physical healing or make life difficult for Clare and everyone else concerned for me. Perhaps the challenge before me is to travel inward, empty handed, not knowing what's there to learn or discover. 

'Iremos de noche, para encontrar la fuente, solo la sed nos alumbra'