“Poor naked wretches, whereso’er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? ” (King Lear Act 3 Scene 4.) When these words were first spoken, The nation was being rocked by bubonic plague with London losing probably a fifth of its population. In

The thought of pressing pause came to me following a discussion last week with someone we were working with. Some glitches had arisen; we wanted to find a way through; it was decided to pause, take stock and re-group.. The verb to pause is lovely, full of meaning and gentleness. It’s not harsh and confrontational like stop or cancel; it

Here at the centre everything is still Before the stir and movement of our grief Which bears its pain with rhythm, ritual, Beautiful useless gestures of relief. So they anoint the skin that cannot feel Soothing his ruined flesh with tender care, Kissing the wounds they know they cannot heal, With incense scenting only empty air. He blesses every love

When I sit down to write about things I’ve said or done, the last thing I want to do is to present myself in a favourable light. Well maybe just a bit, after all, I’m human. So first a peep at my shadow side; two peeps. We were sitting quietly, it must be 10 years ago now, in a Sunday