I don’t know if it is my being at that ‘difficult age’ or the times but the months seem to be winging past. In fact, the constant round of work, travel and the odd bit of telly, can leave the old brain fairly buzzing. So much so, few of us ever seems to be static even for a moment . No wonder then that I think often of the wisdom of the local expedition bearers who insist on regularly stopping to let their souls catch up! Nowadays we think less of our bodies let alone or spiritual well being.
Going on this year’s summer holiday was more vexing than usual. The days before were particularly hot and busy. The journey was hot and slow with road works. The camping site was hot and packed. And trust me, in Britain the word ‘hot’ is rarely said in the same breath as ‘weather’.
In fact, to escape the heat with the dogs we made the short trip – air con on full blast – to a local beauty spot on the River Wear. It was there I wandered in the medieval ruins of Finchdale abbey; the place where the monks of Durham Cathedral came to rest and recuperate in the summer months. Something of the ancient meditative mood must haunt the stones. For I found myself sitting and thinking – be still and know that I am God. Perhaps we also need to be still and know ourselves as well.