I’m a stealer of words. Or perhaps I should say an appropriator, a borrower of them. I read this word this morning. Sara Maitland used it after quoting someone else who used it. Urgencies. The urgencies of life that eat into a deep desire (that I always rediscover in myself after rereading and reading again Maitland’s book). I’ve spent the weekend attending to such urgencies. It is small stuff, irritating stuff that if left fills my head leaving no room for the soaring things. I am better for dealing with them. But there is yet more. Heigh ho. Onward.
