Now Is The Time To Make Justice A Reality For All Of God’s Children

My body and my heart are at odds with one another. My body is furious with me for driving up to Manchester yesterday, spending the evening with my son, having a meal and chatting about many things, going for coffee with him this morning and then driving myself all the way back down to Exeter. Furious because it has made me go ow and ouch and say many of the swear words that make people realise I am a foul-mouthed fuckerator.

My heart is just happy happy to have spent that time with my son. Time with him is very precious to me now that he has grown into an awesome young man (having been an awesome teenager and an awesome kid too) and it was lovely to catch a glimpse of his new life up in Manchester.

My last trip to Manchester was cut short by my health and I was similarly compromised by physical crap on this trip too but I got through it this time and am proud of myself for overcoming the odds and disadvantages my fragility throws in my face.

I did not know until I arrived there that the guest house I’d booked over the internet, chosen firstly because it wasn’t too far from my son’s house and secondly because it was rather cheap compared to the Premier Inn sort of accommodation, is also a theological college. There was a clue in the name – Luther King House – but it took being there, seeing the academic, dormitory style blocks where some of the rooms were and the ecclesiastical books crammed into the library to make me realise I was staying in one of the more unique places I’ve ever spent the night. I liked it as everyone was calm friendly and there was a familiar academic air blanketing the place.

All of which made me feel ok with not being ok, if that makes sense. I had something of a panic attack after arriving because I hurt so much and I haven’t driven that far or for so long in almost ten years. But the guest house sot of helped to ground me and then I was in my son’s company which properly helped bring me back to earth and out of the sky full of fears.

I must see Manchester again but I may let a train driver be the person controlling the vehicle I go in. Or a coach driver. Or a teleporter from the USS Discovery. Yeah.

This entry was posted in academia, Culture, health, mental health, Philosophy, Religion, Transport, travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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