No matter what

Even on a dreich day in Edinburgh, shrouded in mist, there’s still a wonderful buzz in the city – where the Science Festival exhibits outside the Royal Academy are attracting good conversations and cheering laughter.

The thing that’s delighted me most today, though, has been the arrival of Victory Kitty from Ukraine (link) into the household of the inspirational Yaroslava – sharing her #warcoffee (link) tweets with a huge and inspired community of wellwishers all over the world.

Newly returned to their own home, Yaroslava and her son have been longing for the arrival of their new kitten. It has truly warmed my soul to see images of the tiny bundle of joy playing and settling with them.

There are some really great souls in this world who encounter Victory in tiny, gentle, lovely things, no matter what …


Values, beliefs, thoughts

First lawn mowing and raised-bed weeding of the season today. Satisfaction paradoxically coupled with prayer for peace in Ukraine – with every weed pulled and every blade of grass trimmed.

Every glass of water, cup of coffee, conversation, good book, meal, news bulletin, sleep or walk brings Kyiv to mind. Yaroslava wrote in her Twitter war diary yesterday

I dream come back home. Drink my delicious coffee. Read my books.

And today

Break for #warcoffee. I write this diary for 20 days. Sometimes it feels like 20 years. During these ‘years’ I’ve been changing. Values, beliefs, thoughts. So the diary is not only about ordinary woman living through the war. It’s about new me being born.

Digging my garden, mowing my lawn, thinking of you and of all your fellow Ukranians, Yaroslava, my prayer is for a new and peace-loving inter-national ‘we’ being born.


Not like a songbird

Photo at Pexels

The heart is not like a songbird
singing only one note at a time

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
excerpt from
For When People Ask
(link to poem)

The signs of Spring are all around us and we can’t stop our spirits rising to sunlight, crocuses, cherry blossoms, blue skies and daffodils – even while torn, conflicted, shattered, and full of admiration, too, for Yaroslava, the young Ukranian woman who wrote:

the birds were singing. I felt relieved. Dreamt about how I would be traveling around the world with my peace mission …

Rosemerry’s poetic touching upon the meaning of paradox is a gift that I shall return to often – a psalm of life, a profound reflection, something I know I will share with fellow wondering, wandering pilgrims for years to come, a great grace that has steadied my faltering.

I am astonished by, and profoundly grateful for the two wonderful women cited here – each bearing the weight of unimaginable pain. Each insistently singing more than one note at a time – and effectively inviting me (and all of us) to cry and laugh and love and dream and pray and sing along …