The journey is never wasted.

Brief Encounters and Gratitude for the New Year

6.30am: The start of a long day, travelling to an unfamiliar destination. I anticipate the arrival before the journey has even begun. Sounds a lot like life. Our coming and going, embarking and departing ever constant…

7.00am: The first train of four, is about to arrive on a frosty morning in winter. I am on my way to a planned encounter that may or may not yield a positive outcome but the door of opportunity whispered an invitation and I responded with a ‘yes’.

Station two. I am so cold – that I take a seat in the ‘shelter’ that neither provides heat, or shields me from the blizzard like conditions. I miss the train as I was so engrossed in playing on my phone as distraction, that it arrived and departed without my realising. Ironically, I only noticed when my phone tracker told me it had departed! Determined to keep my joy I brace myself for another 30 minute wait.

Station three: I have another 30 minute wait before my final transfer. I walk along a platform toward a small café –feeling as though I have walked back in time. It reminded me of the classic film ‘Brief Encounter’. There’s four or five few small round tables, fresh brownies and muffins perched on the counter and the smell of fresh coffee, percolating, enticing freezing customers like me to ‘taste and see’. I’m tempted to take a seat to bide some time but spot a clear sign above the counter “this is not a waiting room.” In other words, buy something or get out. I opt for powdered Oats that come to life once topped with hot water. This would make up for no breakfast. Porridge in hand, doubling as a water bottle, I look round and a slim grey haired lady reading a paper (let’s call her Beattie) gestures to a spare seat. I sit down and a conversation soon sparks. Topic: purpose of travel. She mentioned something about an auction… picking up a car. It was clear, but not! A woman on the table next to us (let’s call her Lucy) joins in, chatting about how she went through a terrible time and lost her car because she couldn’t pay for it. She was a struggling young mum back then, and her partner had left her. Things were much harder but she assured us that she had a happy life now. I was thankful that I wasn’t in that position. A young Asian guy (‘Naresh’) with ruck sack, possibly a student, swivelled around from his table to join in with the discussion. He brought up one of those day time reality ‘if you cant pay we’ll take it away’ type TV programmes, where enforcers come and take your car, home or property from you. I pondered the ethics of such shows, saying that it said a lot about society; when one person’s misery was turned into someone else's entertainment. Lucy and Naresh agreed. Beattie, seemed a little too knowledgeable about these things, identifying with the enforcers; defending even. In fact, she could no longer conceal her real identity as an enforcer herself. Her early morning ‘car auction’ visit started to make sense.

Time for our train to depart, Beattie and I say goodbye to the other two and make our way back to platform 3 for the 9:15am train, heading toward Oxford.

Out of ear shot, she chimed in “did you see how I shut him down?” referring to Naresh. Looks are deceiving, for this slender framed white women with grey hair revealed quite a ferocious side. Had she really felt threatened by an 18 year old young man, talking about reality TV? I explained he appeared comfortable engaging with us and that it was good that he didn’t feel intimidated, but rather included. She told me I sounded like a Social Worker, before defending her position at needing to be circumspect (as result of her line of work). I sympathised but I felt his line of conversation was innocent, she did not. I mused at the fact that my pastoral side was coming out, as well as my positionality. As much as she felt the need to defend and deflect from the enforcer role that she strongly identified with, I felt aligned with the young man’s marginalised positionality not her location of power. Up to that moment for Beattie, I was “not like them” but my response betrayed the fact.

So what’s my point?

You never know who is going to have any impact on your life at any moment. Whilst we are on earth, power, positionality, location are always at play, we are all seated at the communion table of life. We are either anticipating or in an encounter with the other as ourselves. Whether we want to acknowledge the source or not, the circle dance is happening. On Earth it’s imperfect. The divine trinity (of Father, Son and Holy Spirit) if you believe in the concept, is the perfect representation of an ‘other self giving relationship’ always regarding the other, loving the neighbour as self in dialogue and relationship, continuously with no though for social constructs of race, age, class, gender, power or positionality.

That’s the basis of this writing journey in 2023 too I guess; unity and diversity co-existing; represented by a circle dance of encounters for which I have much gratitude. So thank you to my circle dancers, my early subscribers and international audience. To those who have blessed me with their words. To new encounter who I have engaged with, that I shall take into 2024, to the encouragers, commentators, liberators, those that have featured in the narratives, those who have said, ‘don’t stop writing’ or I enjoy your poetry, and ‘your voice, knowledge and wisdom deserves air time’. Thank you for stating that my work has value and my insight matters. It means a lot.

Blessings to you dear readers.

Here’s to a Happy New 2024

Natasha