I broke my prayer beads tonight. Or rather I broke the cross at the end of them. I made them at a point when words meant nothing, the only way I could pray was to hold them.
it's only a small thing really but I do feel bereft.
I have a set made for me by a friend who became a novice on Tuesday
that was a beautiful service, I di find it very hard I shall miss her dearly
now we have to explore a friendship within a differnt context
but not sure how strong the thread on the beads are.
I guess I have to use these until they fall apart as well.
prayer - until prayer falls appart
yes that sums me up at the moment
I do until I fall apart
I write an essay until I am literally banging my head then I figure I'd better stop for a bit.
I still have 3 essays, and the fourth part of one essay to do.
they must be done before the end of August!
then a month off - well off from essay writing - I just have some training for work to do as well as my full time job.
not really an idle pilgrim
certainly an exhausted pilgrim - perhaps I should change my name!
1 comment:
I have wondered about the Idle part. You seem to be running pretty fast. It's funny that the book I am planning is about the house where I lived as a small child my father and what happened at the end of the story. It is poetry. I think these symbols must be universal. I wonder how many people have some variation of our stories.
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