Midsummer. Just gone. And I’m back in London, waiting for the coach to Taizé – to peace – to reconciliation.
Reconciliation with what? I’ve spent the last few months being busy. Super-busy. Too much so to stop and reflect. Busy with teaching – we are under-staffed and much of my teaching is going from scratch in a revamped programme next year. With research. My students are helping me with writing and data collection and this is good and productive. And tiring. And busy with travel at weekends. With having fun and enjoying myself, my relationships, because I have learnt how to do that these last few years.
And now I must stop. Stop and wait. As ever, I have resisted looking ahead at this year’s proposals for thought and action from the prior. These are what I will stop for. Unknown challenges.
This time, I will arrive at Taizé more exhausted than ever I have before. The missing wheel on my suitcase an apt metaphor for my faltering progress to this point. I research. I teach. I have fun and fulfilling relationships. But a year later, I have not been able to stop the medication. Every time I have tried, I have ended up teary and weak and wobbly. Quite literally on my knees. I am still not well. And I have not stopped for so long that much as I long for Taizé, I am scared of what lies ahead.