Gifts of Grace

By grace

Aladdin

This young boy on the journey down presaged the discovery of resistance to joy in every cell of my body.  More accurately, resistance to the expression of joy.  In the company of other human beings expressing joy has an overlay of terror, the expectation of annihilation.  I wonder what his fate will be … I feel blessed and grateful for my own.

This is what I've been immersed in, a place where you discover the precise nature of your condition layer by layer by layer with the profound support of others on the same path.  I had intended to share the link from the iPad once I was on my way.  Turned out not to be possible, for me at least.

The knock on effect of all the flooding meant that the train staff could only offer 'let them eat cake' all the way from Edinburgh to London.  Posh cake to be sure, Chamomille and Lavender (yuch), Beetroot and Lemon (better).   I ate a fair bit of cake, remembered it's a poor substitute for joy.  Thank god for British Rail tea.  

I'm home - underfed and underslept, deeply nourished and utterly knackered.  And delighted with everyone who has been pouring money into Blip whilst I was gone.  Well done you.  Blipping may be intermittent for me as I find my bearings in a world with more space for joy.

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