Inheritance and Invitation

Setting off in the dark seemed the right thing to do.  I have decided to frame this 30 day pilgrimage as “inheritance and invitation”.

I am expecting that as I travel I will connect with both my inheritance and be invited into new places and spaces as well – by design and by accident.
Vigilance will be my companion and I will keep my ears, eyes and heart open. I will follow Br David’s advice to look up. (I just did that and saw a beautiful ceiling in the Dubai airport, the traditional geometric shapes of the Islamic tradition with the blue morning sky streaming in – and if I could get all the technology to work together then I could share it with you dear reader!)
My litany for today’s inheritance begins:
The imagination of the Wright brothers
The arrogance of Steve Jobs
The confidence of a King
The wonder of a young traveller
The fear of a lost soul
The compassion of a lover
The patience of a parent
So much more to come!
And the invitations are being written with such speed that receiving them all would create an impossible tsunami of emotions. Truly overwhelming. I am currently resisting an invitation of a dozen juicy oysters flirting with me from a  seafood bar. I don’t want to make the Coffin Bay oysters jealous.
My contemplation at 35,000 feet, I offer as I found myself between heaven and earth. Dear Hildegard I wonder what you would have made of flight? I suspect you too would be in awe as the journey also offered moments of stillness while still moving.
Moving Parts
Moving parts
Like a Rubik’s cube
A secret combination
Would allow the path to be clear
The pass to be made
Moving parts
Like a Swiss clock
A hidden combination
Would allow the cogs to be free
The time to be made
Moving parts
Like a gloved hand
A shrouded story
Would allow the care to be shown
The love to be made
Moving parts
Like a conveyer belt
A certain path
Would allow to trip to be mapped
The steps to be made
The missing parts found
No longer secret
No longer hidden
No longer shrouded
No longer certain
Deep time having set the course
Preordained by the constellations moving across the skies
Waiting for only me
To stop.
Sunset Willunga

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