Homecoming

Every time I arrive in Morecambe. EVERY time I arrive in Morecambe it truly feels like I'm coming home. Every time the walk along the Prom induces in me something that makes me settle, breathe more easily, enjoy just being. Whether it's gusty, calm, rainy, sunny, dark, light - always the vista across the Bay takes me to a place that I absolutely adore. A place within myself which is a Good place to be. A place I haven't found anywhere else. So hurray for Morecambe - I've just had another homecoming moment and I love it.

Saying yes led me this evening to a wonderful evening in Lancaster Library - great art, fabulous music and fun conversation (which, sadly, noticeably deteriorated courtesy of everyone's favourite "social lubricant" - Alcohol. Don't get me wrong - it didn't turn into a disaster-zone, merely I noticed the increasing drunken-ness and my decreased interest in the conversation. Ho hum.) An invite from a friend of a friend (who I'd met briefly) brought me along to the opening night of 5 artists, all of who's work I enjoyed and accompanied by music from...two guys I already knew! Unexpected but very pleasant - and a very friendly atmosphere of just chatting to people and enjoying the evening. It's so delightful when everything falls into place like that and my overwhelming feeling is wanting to have more evenings like this: filled with art, music and good people having good conversations. And I fully intend to do what I can to make this a reality...

But this morning's thought for the day was around uncertainty and "not knowing". I was pondering whether the fear of not understanding why something is, how it works, what the "magic" is generates in people a dark void of unknowing that they want to fill with an explanation - regardless of whether it's actually reality. Similarly, the justification of behaviours or specific actions satisfy the justifier - but can sometimes be completely la-la. The varieties of logic involved vary in their efficacy on the world at large, but all are fascinating. Which, taking it a step further, delves into the realms of what, truly, is "reality". What is truth? What is right, and what wrong? But that's going off on a tangent - because really, my pondering was a sense that, perhaps, I'd stumbled across one of the drivers of some beliefs, actions and behaviours I find incredible. Not having an explanation can be an incredibly uncomfortable place to be, and can feel like a never-ending void. So filling it with a something, an anything, may well be preferable on many occasions. There's more thinking on this one, methinks.

And on a lighter note, my wonderous attic room feels more comfortable and wonderous as time goes on. Seeing my iron, the iron I purchased, I believe, for Em's wedding dress, sitting there looking like an awesome iron is fab. Feeling like the room is organised but lived in. And noticing the mysterious "POW!" badge that appeared in my pigeon hole at university but nobody ever laid claim to leaving it there. Or did they? My memories get mixed - but there were certainly 2 badges that arrived with me around the same time and one had the giver identified and the other didn't. I think the POW one didn't. But now, well, I really will never know.

Morecambe. Brilliant.