I am one of the gathered-around-Glenn – virtually and occasionally, in the company of him and a few cups of coffee. Hello mockingbirds. I’ve been thinking, since the invitation to join this good community about moments of what the french call l’au délà…and particularly about where l’au délà is discovered hiding in the ordinary. Last night, I was given something on a plate…I fell asleep thinking of it, I’m thinking of it in work today. I’ve done some work on kids’ camps – the kind where kids come and are entertained by exhausted adults. I’m sure plenty of us have mockingbirded our way through these camps as participants and facilitators. Sometimes someone sticks out – and 10 years later, one of those kids and I are still in touch. I’m not a parent. Relationships where you’re looked to as some kind of mildly older influence are meaningful. Last night I got a phonecall asking me if I’d read an email that’s a precursor to approaching marriage between my friend and his girlfriend. One of those emails that’s setting the ground. He said “I was wanting to get someone to read it – if you don’t have time I’ll ask my dad”. The normality of these things – the need for someone else to read a letter, the need for reassurance, the including-into of me in the story of them, the kindness, the knowing from years ago, the knowing of now, the knowing of the future. All caught up into a simple request. Tomorrow night, we’re meeting for curry. Sometimes curry is as thick as blood.