I really needed our holiday in Ireland. I was worn out creatively, intellectually, mentally and psychologically. I was not sleeping brilliantly.
At first, I could not think coherently and deeply. I was too tired to pray, though I was conscious, as always, of God’s presence . My thoughts and emotions lay in a jumbled heap, which I barely had the strength to sort out consciously, but just sat still, waiting for thoughts to surface one by one, to be slowly thought through.
After a long period of busyness and tiredness, silence begins to work on you, and you begin to think again. Words come to populate the inchoate.
You slowly begin to think again, and feel again, and out of the inchoate tiredness, words, old friends, come again.
I sat alone for an hour by the shores of Lake Leanne on our second day Not really thinking particularly, or praying, just enjoying the sound of the lapping of waters against the shore. Just being. What a luxury.
By the time, I left I was back to normal, and God had given me a short book in a dream, which is mainly written. I hope to publish it this month or next month through the publishing company our family owns.
The moral of the story is: Never, ever let myself get that tired again!