travel

  • A Few Missing Frames

    A Timetraveler’s Side Quest. The Fool, “as she likes to call herself, when she is venturing into something new”, has returned. Not quite to where she left from, of course. Time has been busy while she was away. More than two and a half years, can apparently be both an age and barely a moment,…

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  • A Timetraveler’s Side Quest. The Curious Incident of the Heart That Isn’t Finished Yet. And this quest is not about romance, as it may not be standing at the station waiting for me, but the questions I find so hard to ask might be travelling on a nearby platform. So the fool who returns at…

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  • Life as a Commodity

    What happens when the fiction we believe begins to fracture?And once we see the cracks, how do we travel from fiction to truth? More and more, life has become a commodity. Not just our labour, but our attention, our identities, and inner worlds. The political system and capitalism consume it like sugar, sweet, addictive, dissolving…

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  • In the last days of the year, when the turning of the sun was very short and the nights stretched like ink, there lived a Lantern who did not yet know it was a Lantern. It had always been told it was too bright, too strange, too reflective. When storms came, people covered it instead…

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  • Can she still navigate the waters? Or must she learn to trust her inner compass again? Now that she knows the truth, grief follows. Grief for the woman she thought she was.   As she revisits old conversations and old silences, replaying social moments with new eyes, wondering what was misread and what was endured.…

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  • Honestly, at this point, I’m convinced the universe is writing my life like a cosmic sitcom. Picture this: I finally get diagnosed autistic at forty-five and immediately discover I’m now both the ancient mythical sage and a small, overstimulated goblin-child who needs grape juice, quiet, and maybe a nap. The duality is outrageous. One minute…

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  • Every age needs a monster to chase. In medieval times, it was witches who were marked and burned, as if fear could be turned to ash. In the twentieth century, it was communists, with lists and sweeps that promised safety and delivered suspicion. And now, in the twenty-first century, the sweep is for autism. Presidents…

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  • As we collectively have fallen into the Dark Night Of The Soul, “a spiritual, mental, emotion crisis in the journey of the meaning of life or union with god.” Sensing mother’s womb cry for salvation, still in human slumber, pages in a chivalrous story, neglecting our shadow side (our ego, that part of us that…

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  • What A Year.

    The year began as though I were thrown into the heart of a mythic storm. Like a ship tossed in a wild, unknowable sea, I drifted rudderless, battered, and worn, feeling I could sink at any time. The winds howled fears that gnawed at my sanity as the waves crashed with the weight of loss.…

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  • A Heart Stumbles

    Two months now, I’ve been back on these windswept Orkney Islands, with hail clattering against the windows and snow whispering its icy secrets into the night. The days have been long and strange, filled with waiting. I’m still somewhat camping, a nomad between hearths, as I anticipate the day I’ll receive the keys to my…

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