September 2024

I am writing this in a coffee shop on my own. This is a very scary thing for me! It’s Sunday, and we had to check out of the flat. Husband has taken most of the luggage home on the train, and I have moved into a Premier Inn until after a seminar on Wednesday. Unfortunately I had to leave the flat very early (so helpful Husband could carry my case down flights of stairs before catching his train) but I cannot check-in to the next room until later. Hence the scary coffee shop.

Now of course, like most of our fears, there is nothing intrinsically scary about being in the city on my own. I am unlikely to have any problems. But fear is rarely rational, and I find it can stop us doing all kinds of things. Sometimes we have to physically force ourselves to go somewhere, or apply for something, or say something. Usually, once we have started, things are not so bad. I find that praying and distracting my brain with something (like writing a blog!) are a huge help.

I have a rough plan for the day. I will sit here, sipping coffee and nibbling a cinnamon bun until it’s time to go to church. To be honest, I am mainly going to church this week because it will be a safe place to wait for an hour—which is entirely the wrong reason. I should be going because I want to be with other Christians (I don’t—I have met enough people this week) or to praise God. And I do want to worship God, because I could never be here without him, but mostly I am going to hide. We all need somewhere we feel comfortable that we can hide and after a lifetime spent going to churches, this is one of my places. (A bit odd perhaps, if you are not a churchy person and feel the exact opposite about being in a church service.)

This afternoon there is a parade along the Royal Mile (the road down from the castle). There always seems to be something happening here. Earlier in the week they blocked the road to film a new Netflix series. It must be set in the past, because they were even replacing the street lamps with more authentic-looking ones for the era. There was also an old market scene, with baskets of bread. But I didn’t see any actors.

I will let you know if I manage to go to the parade. Time to eat the sticky bun, use the washroom and walk to church. 

*****

It’s Monday, though it feels like a month since I wrote the above. Church was fine, though a bit odd for me because it was a very high church, and they whooshed incense around, and marched up and down the aisle at unexpected times. But the choir was amazing, and best of all, I met a couple of other students that I recognised from last week, so it felt a good place to be.

Later I found the parade in the Royal Mile. There was dancing (I watched) and marching bands. Best of all, it seemed as if every horse rider within reach of the city had brought their horse to Edinburgh for the day. So many horses. There were a few soldiers, but most were hunters, a few children riding ponies, farmers on cart horses and posh-looking riding clubs. It was fabulous. As I walked home, I could hear their hooves on the cobblestones echoing round the old city as they were returned to their horse-boxes.

Today I started work. (I am considering the issue of assisted dying through the Hebrew Canon creation texts about people and animals.) I have decided which texts in Genesis and Job I will study, and went to the library to look at a Hebrew version with an apparatus (lots of footnotes) showing all the contested words. I admit that I had another wobble. I sat there, pleased to have found the correct book, but suddenly overwhelmed by the extent of my ignorance. The book was full of symbols and languages that I didn’t understand. I felt as if I was rowing a tiny dinghy on a stormy sea. Took a few deep breaths and reminded myself that nothing is intrinsically difficult. I just had to go very slowly, and try to understand a tiny bit, until inch by inch I made progress. It took ages, but I began to unravel the key, to investigate the notes. I discovered things like that ‘S’ meant a Syrian text (so I could assume the strange squiggles next to it were a Syrian word) and the author thought there was a mistake due to the ignorance of the scribe (so not a typo, but a misunderstanding). And so on.

I also joined another library and have another laminated card with my photo on it. The National Library of Scotland is a deposit library, which means they have copies of every book. I can reserve a book in advance, and they will take it out of deposit (this takes a few hours) and then I can read it in the reading room. There is a list of rules—no pens allowed, no liquids, no coats or bags. I leave all my stuff in a locker, though I am allowed a phone and can take photos if I ask permission first (which I do not entirely understand). I am hoping the National Library in London will be the same, as it was all very easy. (The only hard thing was finding proof of my address, but eventually found an emailed invoice.)

It’s good to be here. I have to remind myself to look at things, to notice the cobbled streets, to hear the bagpipes, to enjoy the history of the place. It has not been an easy few days, but as I gradually learn how to do things, and as places become more familiar, it is beginning to feel less scary and I can begin to enjoy it. Thank you for reading and sharing it with me. I hope your week goes well, and you find the determination to succeed with the things you are struggling with.

Take care.

Love, Anne x