The fact that a work of such unperturbed objectivity and such deep, radiating peace could grow from a life which, far from being untroubled, consumed itself in strife, gives us an insight into the special quality of the man. (Josef Pieper, The Silence of St Thomas) The branch is not the root system. When youContinue reading ““With pen in hand””
Category Archives: Autobiography
Welcome, God’s Year
For many, 2016 will be a year that few will miss or wish to repeat. It was the year of Brexit and Trump, of many beloved public figures dying, and seemingly also a year of much personal hardship for many people. It was certainly the case for my wife and I this year. Yet I’m determinedContinue reading “Welcome, God’s Year”
Mental Health November Week 4: No, you’re not “just a bit OCD”
Wanting to keep things neat and tidy is not OCD. Straightening crooked pictures is not OCD. Demarcating your work-space clearly is not OCD. All of these things might point to OCD but they could just as likely not. Having invasive, repeated and unwanted thoughts that drive you to perform compulsions in an attempt to controlContinue reading “Mental Health November Week 4: No, you’re not “just a bit OCD””
Mental Health November Week Three: White Collar Time
All our comings and our goings
Some wandered in deserts; I strayed Among Antarctic beeches and Bunya pine, Silver ferns and blood red soil, where I made Kingdoms and mountains from my trampoline. Some languished at sea; I saw an ocean Outside my window when the Easter rains Flooded the side path, and gazed at the scene In raptured delight. IContinue reading “All our comings and our goings”
Thirty-Two Blessings
Gratitude begets gratitude, just as love begets love. (Henri Nouwen, Life of the Beloved) That I am begotten by love, Sustained That my heart beats And my feet move That the air is rich For me to breathe That love is patient, That love is kind That I can know What goodness is That IContinue reading “Thirty-Two Blessings”
Birthday Song (Apologies to Sylvia Plath)
Today would have been the 95th birthday of my maternal grandfather who passed away nearly nine years ago: a man who influenced me and my writing more than one poem can express. Still, I couldn’t let the day pass without acknowledging it in some way, especially while I’m in the midst of writing about myContinue reading “Birthday Song (Apologies to Sylvia Plath)”
Memory in Rain
Essendon is drenched today. On Albion And Buckley where my Granddad learnt to walk, To talk, lies last night’s deluge in puddles, In screen of watery sheen, while vermillion Morning climbs the eastern sky. When we talk Of heritage, does it sit in huddles Like these? old buildings nestled in new ones And the streetsContinue reading “Memory in Rain”
My childhood with Sting
Well, he once rhymed “cough” with “Nabakov” and poetically asked, “Hey Mr Brontosaurus, have you got a lesson for us?” And now Sting has unknowingly inspired my latest writing project. The inspiration came via this TED Talk and interview he did in 2014 about how he overcame writer’s block. What was Sting’s answer to hisContinue reading “My childhood with Sting”
Ritual
Why do I walk on tiptoes when I first step into icy blue? As if my waist must stay above the lapping line, as though caution will keep me safe in this task which infants undertake with glee? The slow preparation, the gasps as underneath we plunge: all this is ritual, and weContinue reading “Ritual”
The Consolations of Writing 