Feeling Out of Place

Rainbow Over Glasgow

Last week I started to write a post, and then I abandoned it. It didn't feel right. I couldn't say what I wanted to say about my ambivalent relationship with technology, especially where it intersects with issues of Spirit. I dropped the post, half written and never completed it, thinking that I was only stuck because of the topic that I'd decided to write about. Today, after hours of hemming and hawing about what to write today, I realize that I'm stuck for a far deeper reason. It's hard to … [Read more...]

The Dance of Desire and Delight

It is strange to be a writer, particularly in the midst of life.Those of you reading this who also write may understand, perhaps agree or disagree, but it seems to me there exists an often difficult and fascinating conflict between the voice of narration and the body of experience.I am writing this in a notebook.  The pages of compressed wood-pulp glare garishly white at my return glance as I attempt to interrupt its pristine nothingness, its blank receptivity, with ink scrawls of black. … [Read more...]

With a hey and a ho and a hey nonny no

Pink flowered wood sorrel

This is going to be uncharacteristically brief as we have reached that important seasonal milestone, the end of the semester.  I teach college English, among my other unfortunate vices.  So here's a recording of pioneering jazz singer Maxine Sullivan's version of "It Was a Lover and His Lass" from Twelfth Night, because Shakespeare.  You're welcome.It's going to be Beltane any minute now, and while my friends in more northern climes are grumping about when is spring going to get here, an … [Read more...]

Signs of Beltane Approaching

blackthorn

The land is finally waking, here in the cold north (aka Scotland). Ostara is the balance of day and night, as elsewhere, but the land does not really wake until Beltane -- also known as Beltaine, or Bealtuinn.Spring and summer come upon us all of a piece, here. Here and now, the oyster catchers nest, the swallows arrive, the curlews warble, yet the sycamore is still bare-limbed. Daffodils and celandines and coltsfoot and wood anemones all bloom together.The blossoming … [Read more...]

Dionysos in a Paving Stone, Brighid in the Broken Glass

pic1

I stood on the corner of the street, waiting for a bus to take me from Seattle and saw a friend.  It's been awhile since I'd seen them*, and I'd never been where I was about to go, so they were a welcome sight.  After a brief embrace and a few words, we'd realized we were going to the same place, taking almost the same route.They'd never been either.  Both of our first times."Were you at Mayday last year?"They nodded.  "Yeah--last year was my political Beltaine, this year's my spi … [Read more...]

Wishful Ducklings

Mallard mama and ducklings

I thought I'd begin my sojourn as a writer for A Sense of Place with a bit of discussion of the particular place I find myself in now, and how I wound up here...Recently John Beckett asked "Where are you from?"  and relatedly, "where do you feel at home?"  I'm from north Georgia, just across the state line from where he grew up, and like him I find that glorious southern Appalachian landscape stays with me wherever I go.  But as for where my home is now...well, that's a story.Almost a ye … [Read more...]

Different And The Same

NetherlandsFlight3

Over the past week I have been in Amsterdam, The Netherlands; Glasgow, Scotland; London, England; and now I am in Manchester, England. The rain has followed me everywhere. I can see by the news that each place has gotten sunny after I leave it, so the rain must be following me around like a lost puppy. But the rain isn't the only thing that seems to be following me around. Lately I've been dogged by wisps of deja vu every where I go.I'm not talking about the kind of deja vu where you sit … [Read more...]


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