The Zen of the Marathon

This last year I ran two marathons. The first was my first. It was in a city. Rotterdam to be specific. It was far and painful. The second was in Snowdonia. It was a completely different story. After all, Snowdonia is in North Wales: Wild and wonderful, magical and mystical, beautiful and brutal. It is…

Flowers of purposeful frivolity

I wrote this little poem a while ago. It was part of my own awakening from some sort of slumber, some sort of survival mode. I believe that beauty and play and wasting time and other things are essential to the health of the human soul. This includes the celebration of one’s own creativity. With…

Voice

I’ve been given a voice to use it or not, that’s my choice In the silence of my fear my soul withers, death draws near Death of hopes, death of dreams eyes turn blind, deaf turn ears From the darkness of despair my voice must rise to raise a cry A cry to God? A…

No pressure to perform…

I have been informed of how to conform to this culture of performance I went along: Perform, perform until I was so deformed of conforming that the only option left was to be transformed by Truth and Grace from the One who is Love into the unique me that was waiting, no aching to be set…