Mapless

Writing this feels like launching into open sea. Like a lot of creative things, I find. A mixture of excitement at the possibilities. And a lurking dread of being overwhelmed. And getting lost along the way.

So this morning I'm taking heart from the mad journeys of Celtic monks from way back who took off in coracles, not really knowing where they were going but trusting God's Spirit/the Wild Goose to lead them and bring them safely to an unknown shore.

I'd like to think my coracle is like this. Emptied of clutter and free to ride the waves....

But in reality, it's more like this,.....

...full of stuff and a wildness of its own.   

So as I head off,  I'm aware of stuff going on, within and without. Love it that there's a house in this picture and a ladder leading up to who knows where. Speaks to me of being at home in the now whilst longing for things to come. Love the trees and garden too. Things not to hack away and de-clutter in order to sail more smoothly. But to tend and nurture and enjoy their fruit along the way.

In fact I love this soul-holding coracle!!! Changed my mind now about the other one. This'll do me.

So here we go. Mapless and looking to the Wild Goose. And glad of the wisdom of St Brendan the Navigator, the knarly and undaunted, original coracler.