Author Archives: lesleyjonesberry

Carpe Diem

There is an old Fry and Laurie sketch, Shakespear (sic) Masterclass in which the pedagogic lecturer, Fry, employs fresh-faced actor, Hugh, to work on a passage from Troilus and Cressida: Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,Wherein he … Continue reading

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Indigestion

When we are really listened to, we feel better.  We share our problems with a good friend and no decision is made, no action taken, yet our sense of emotional heaviness is so often lightened. 

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I see dead people

The ghosts have returned to my dreams.  I am travelling in a car and the driver is revealed to be my dad, so I feel safe although I don’t know where I am going or why;  another time, midway through … Continue reading

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Keeping my head above water

Metaphors are ingrained in our language and we cannot communicate fully without them.  The word ‘ingrained’ is itself metaphorical.   The image is of a piece of wood, and the grain which is part of its very fabric, the comforting associations … Continue reading

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Keeping time

I left St Paul’s Cathedral at about ten minutes to 8 after a service of Choral Evensong, followed by a mindfulness session and the opportunity to walk the labyrinth installed under the dome:  the Chartres design printed on heavy canvas … Continue reading

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Because Twitter is too brief

David Bradley tweeted this morning, a reply to someone called Lewis Capaldi about a pop video.  This led me to watch the video – and cry – and feel myself a little connected with the modern world.  I don’t often … Continue reading

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Life is of a mingled yarn

Alls Well that Ends Well, Act IV Scene iii My best friend is working as a test knitter. This is when experienced craftspeople work through a new pattern to make sure it is accurate and comprehensible, and that the designer’s … Continue reading

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Work in Progress

Sometimes it seems I am just beginning to learn how to live:  that, until now, I have muddled through by accident.  As a child I recall grown ups saying “if only I knew then what I know now…”, which I … Continue reading

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Palimpsests

At my mum’s funeral, her best friend Joyce looked at my daughter and thought ‘that’s her, that’s Pat’. My daughter, then 18, was about the age mum had been when this friendship had kindled, and family likeness did the rest. … Continue reading

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Solitude

Before I start, I must distinguish between solitude and loneliness. We never choose loneliness, which is painful and – what is the word? – ‘unhealthy’, meaning health as in wholeness; ‘unnatural’ in the sense that we are inherently, innately social … Continue reading

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