Wisdom of Padre Pio

Wednesday 23rd September, 2020

The day has been a contrast to the last week or so. The sun did not appear except for the shortest moment at about midday. The drizzle came off and on. The sky was still attractive with its scurrying clouds and their layers of grey and silvers and fringed whites.

I have managed three walks but shorter than usual and the grasses have not dried so the trousers and shoes have gotten thoroughly soaked. The tortoise has not appeared and even the dandelions seem reluctant to spread open. The canal ducks...well, it is like water off their backs! The narrow boat sailers look ready for major storms. The attire has moved from shorts to so'westers, yet as cheerful as ever.

The hens looks bedraggled but kindly produced an egg each. The dog rose late and was a little surprised at the first outing, shaking herself frequently. The bank down on to the tow path has gotten very slippery and I missed falling flat on my bottom by a hair's breath.

It has been lovely getting back in to bed for a siesta or, rather, a quiet read. Yeats is done. I have moved to Byatt's Booker Prize Winner, Possession, again concerning a poet.

I have been tranquil as friends' advice and help have filtered through. I am pondering a return to Scotland earlier than expected partly because of the new regulations. This Covid is certainly plaguing many and anxiety levels and frustration and stress have risen. Each of us must face it squarely and be open to helping others do the same. I do want to rage and do so in private. If I felt real injustices I would say so. My one concern is that the new strictures are a blanket set yet only a small minority are responsible for the spread. The majority are then penalised. Is it ever thus?

It is the feast of Padre Pio. He was a priest with a reputation as a wise confessor. I always loved the story of the woman who went to confession and confessed her gossip. He asked her as a penance to go home, pick up a feather pillow and return to him casting the feathers from the pillow as she went. Thinking him odd yet knowing him holy she so did and returned as requested to tell him she had done her penance. He then asked her to go back home picking up the feathers. She protested that they would be all over the place and unable to be found. "So too your words of gossip" he replied.