This is a personal record of a process spanning more than six decades. With a reasonable distance between birth and the uncomfortable proximity of death, I feel I have finally earned the right. The stories and insights in this space have followed and sometimes haunted me my whole life. In these writings I am but a witness.
We all make mistakes and in one way or another must pay, occasionally dearly. But there is always value in that payment. Sometimes we receive forgiveness, other times self-knowledge and some other times we even get back our own personal freedom. That is my understanding of redemption. Perhaps this has theological undertones and I am not uncomfortable with that. The truth is – I found my freedom in my unique understanding of redemption and want to share some of these stories.
By my own admission I am an alcoholic and needed to find both rehabilitation and healing. The devastation left in its wake became unsustainable and even destructive at times. Something had to be done. When we plunder our natural resources and pillage our own humanity we must, at some point, take hold and rehabilitate scarred lands and broken souls to re-establish equilibrium. I recently had an ankle replacement, an arduous and painful journey in itself. Following numerous requests I also record my own orthopaedic rehabilitation – in practical and yet sometimes symbolic terms.
The idea of reinvention eventually does come to some. This happens particularly when a comfortable life inescapably and naturally changes. Retrenchment, retirement and a nest left empty brings existential and emotional upheaval. The death of a loved one amplifies this turmoil often in cruel and bewildering ways. And yet it brings with it new sovereignties and understandings too. Over the past few years at one time or another, I found myself deep in the midst of such circumstantial change and my Soul cried out for reinvention. Wash your face, still your mind and make the journey to your Soul, something deep within me kept nudging. Reinvent yourself. And so you are here and have read thus far. Welcome. Ours could turn out to be a big conversation.
Any blog that carries my name would be incomplete if it did not include a section on running. It is more than just my living, running serves as the purest metaphor for life itself. And finally there is a category just for the hell of it. You know, like stories of dead dogs and other irreverent tales.