The problem with getting out the habit of blogging is that, when you start to feel like you need to post again, there are all these topics vying for attention. And it’s hard to know which to write about, and in what order.
Being a compartmentalised soul, my least favourite type of post is one of those cheery summative ones, adeptly skating over the surface of life, throwing out a couple of neat sentences about different aspects of it, without delving into anything of real substance. I suppose it feels like scribbling a pencil draft, when I want to draw to scale, in pen, complete with all the minute details.
When I don’t blog, and when I leave my notebooks unopened on the shelf (the ‘God’ notebook, the ‘happy’ notebook, the ‘planning the week ahead’ notebook, the ‘these are my random collection of train tickets’ notebook, the ‘notes from conferences I mean to type up but probably won’t look at again’ notebook), It starts feeling like words are bouncing off the inside of my skull, and suddenly my shopping list turns into a creative writing excercise, I’m planning my next sermon in four different colour pens, and I find myself making up poems in my head about man-hole covers, urban foxes, and the new speaking buses that now regale me on my early morning journeys.
So, summative blog posting is out, I need to think of another way to catch up. I think I shall take my inspiration from a book I found, and immediately coveted, in a freezing bookshop on the south coast, yesterday. It’s called Eunoia, which in itself is a glorious word (It means ‘Beautiful thinking’, and is the shortest word in the English language to include all five vowels). The book is astounding, with each chapter containing only words made from a single vowel, for example: ‘Enfettered, these sentences repress free speech.”
(Sadly you can’t really click to look inside)
I considered trying to write about each of the three main areas of my life: God/Church, Work, and Home/Life, using words of only one vowel, but (though an exciting project) the idea was thwarted by the very titles of the categories (told you I was compartmentalised 
)
So I think good old fashioned metaphor may just have to do!
