Sometimes I feel like driving to a place I know not where. To get willingly lost down roads I’ve never been down before. To move away from the familiar into the zone of the new. To unfolding places where I feel anything might be possible.
Today, I did just that in Cornwall – and ended up in the land of King Arthur. I found myself overlooking Tintagel castle and its jagged headland in the remains of a blustery and changeable day. When it was only me and a man down below who was fishing with force above a treacherous sea.
I wasn’t up to walking far but I could make it to sit on the edge of that cliff. One of the most dramatic viewpoints in North Cornwall. A cliff where you can safely sit on the rocks and defy the drop below. Where you can perch with a bird’s eye view of history.
There is something about being taken to an edge that can make us feel more grateful for the ground beneath our feet. This crisis has brought us all face to face with many an unanticipated edge. All I try to do is keep looking out to the sea and beyond, to willingly move through the lost to the hopefully beautiful found…
