It’s hard to believe that it’s Friday. I can hear the tolling of the church bell from the church that’s right beside the library and it’s just finished bonging out the 10th hour of the evening. Ah. It really is the last evening of our final day at Gladstones Library.

Being here has been a wonderful and enervating time for me. Being among the books reminded me too of my family and how books played such a huge part of our growing up years. My sister and I spent so much time in books, and much later, when we were older, we found ourselves discussing books and arguing or agreeing on the virtues or the failures of particular novels or stories. When my sister went for her Masters in Theology, we had long discussions about theology and politics and I do miss my sister’s outspokenness over matters patriarchal as well as the wrong interpretation of scripture.

‘Where does it say that in the Bible?’ She would say, when someone was inclined to lay down some ancient patriarchal thing as word of God when it really wasn’t. When I discovered myself sitting between stacks on theology and philosophy, I couldn’t help thinking of how much my sister would have loved it here. What kinds of conversations would we have had about Reinhold Niebuhr or Kierkegaard? (I confess to feeling quite learned right now. I mean, my sister probably would know who Niebuhr was, but I read him here for the first time. Kierkegaard is a familiar name, but I hadn’t read him until I was sitting next to a stack with a number of shelves with books by or about him. I admit something Kierkegaard says did give me an idea for a horror story. So….I don’t know that my sister would count me as learned, considering how I have this tendency to turn serious things silly.)

Here at Gladstones, I have been well fed. Not just with the books and with the writing, but also with rich conversations around the dining table. Milford writers are just the best and it seemed to me as if the words spoken and the knowledge shared–all the conversations and all the warmth and kindness worked to open up a portal to that realm where the good words dwell.

I think of this time with so much thankfulness. Who would have imagined that I would be able to fly and travel on my own again? Or that I would write so many words in the space of week. Or that I would finally get around to properly organising the novel.

At tea with friends, I shared how it felt to me like I was waking up from a long amnesia and it was like I was remembering to write what I love to write the most. Worlds and worlds and the undying hope for change and a better future.

Follow where your heart takes you. If you’ve tended it well, your heart won’t lead you astray. You’ll always end up exactly where you are meant to be.

Blessings and Peace and Agyamanac Unay for stopping by.