The last warm day. A very pleasant day – there has been a lot of beautiful, true-summer weather in this part of the North Sea for the last two months. Michael and I met in town, brief Italian dinner, long walk down to the river and up through the Ouseburn to home.
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In June I passed my exams at the Jung-Institut, and when they were done was energized and full of expectations and plans.
In July I had a miserable summer flu that wrecked me for a month, that left me doing nothing, static and useless, detached from all plans and work and hopes. I apparently looked fairly washed out for a while there... you can always tell because, after it's over, people say, Ah you've got your color back.
In August I traveled to Stockholm, Copenhagen, and Manchester for two weeks – and wrote a long blog post that is unfinished, and may remain unfinished, as it is fairly incoherent. A lot of pleasant people and places, a few nasty people and bleak places, but all of it somewhat – well, out of focus – because the truth was I simply wasn't in the mood to travel, let alone to several cities, to my first international Jungian conference, by various trains and planes.
I will probably take that blog post and dump it in my 'journal' document on my computer... sorry about that. There are a few things I'd like to remember about it all... including the links between 2013 in Copenhagen and 1993 in Copenhagen, and the remarkable man I met, then left, that summer... but time keeps passing, doesn't it?
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In any case: whatever exists in history, in experience and travel, in the future, in work and hope: going for a walk. Very concrete, very... real. Good thing, too, as I clearly needed it.