Rumi-nation

I am a very dull chicken today, scratching and squawking round my little patch. Contentment makes poor copy.

I have signed on for a great many political actions so hope I am not extradited. Involved, responsible and concerned is what I am aiming for, not a Pommy Plot. Today three petitions, one sign-up and one letter to the San Francisco Chronicle. Sometimes I even give money.

The thought of Dorset and then Italy in four short weeks is exciting. I have been here just five years and am delighted every time I bump into someone I know, it makes me feel I belong. Of course I don't, but one can pretend. I don't belong anywhere any more, because everyone seems to move so my community is virtual. This is an important lesson for someone as territorial as I am. Disconsolate wanderings around Soho have taught me that.

I am also slightly claustrophobic, which goes hand in hand with territorial. Claustrophobia I am convinced is closest kin to the terror of the soul trapped in the body. What does that make agoraphobia? Fear of non-existence?

"Let me not be!
For non-existence sings with clearest voice:
To ONE we shall return."