Rather than trying to force my whole England trip into vague generalities and broad evaluative statements, I want to share three simple snapshots. We take pictures in the attempt to capture a moment outside of time. I am convinced that we access insight and emotion much the same way. These coruscate seconds of perception help us understand the world and how we figure into it. They attach to people, places, events and feelings, often with no rhyme or reason for their coming or going.
Meaning reveals itself in flashes.
Let me try to share. In the little village of Haworth where the Bronte sisters lived and wrote, we set out to hike the moors behind the town. We pressed on across the rolling hills, through valleys and across stream-beds, faithfully following the muddy path past sheep, stone fences, wild sages and other untamed vegetation. The wind was constantly whipping rain against our faces, stinging our skin and chilling us to the bone. On the return hike, a number of us got lost and wandered the inhospitable moors for an extra hour through the driving rain and blustery wind.