Newsletter: May 2026
Greetings again, web friend
I was speaking with Daisy recently. She’d been talking for a while and then said, ‘Anyway’ – paused for a moment, and added, ‘Oh, I don’t like that word.’
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied.
I suggested that ‘anyway’ is a ‘moving on’ word. We use it as we might use a bridge, to leave something behind and to arrive at something new, which could be helpful or unhelpful.
‘So how could it be unhelpful?’ asked Daisy.
‘Well, I suppose if something is difficult, we may try to move on too soon, without resolving anything. We choose avoidance over engagement, hoping it will go away. We say “anyway” – and make our escape.’
‘So it’s helpful when?’
‘It’s helpful when we need to move on from a life-limiting attitude; when we need walk free of some madness our thoughts cluster around and amplify. We can be trapped in negativity, worry, hostility, jealousy, self-doubt or self-loathing – and then it is essential we move on. Perhaps with someone’s help we can reframe our experience, changing the way we view and live things. And find ourselves able to say “anyway”’.
And, as I write that, I’m reminded of an experience at Portsmouth harbour many years ago. Waiting for a ferry to France, I took an evening stroll out on the mudflats, and suddenly before me was a burning boat, its old wooden hull being consumed by flames, stunning in colour against the black sky.
I was in a depressive, negative state at the time and this strange encounter seemed to feed into that. Yes, the boat was me, my life and my hopes going up in flames. Here was a living enactment of my despair; nothing would be left by morning.
A while later, I was on a nine-day silent retreat in north Wales. Each day, I met with a guide to reflect on whatever was arising for me. One day, I mentioned my experience at Portsmouth harbour, and how it confirmed me in my despair. She listened and gently said she didn’t hear it in that way.
‘Something is dying in the story, Simon, that’s for sure. But as you describe the flames against the night sky, I’m seeing such amazing beauty in this death, such beauty arising from it.’
She had reframed my story. It made all the sense in the world; and has done ever since.
Anyway…
I’m presently writing another Abbot Peter mystery, which is occasional delight but mostly very hard work. The first draft is always an exercise in rock-breaking and then seeing what can be found in the dark caves beyond. I wasn’t expecting this development. I’d travelled away from this part of my life; I had re-located, as they say. But the idea took no notice of my travels and travelled with me and just kept banging on my door until I relented, opened up and said ‘I suppose you better come in.’
And strangely, dear reader – for who knows the ‘how’ or ‘why’ of anything? – at the same time, I received a mysterious manuscript in my email: a dramatised version of my Abbot Peter mystery from 2016, A (Very) Public School Murder. It had been written by Philip Law, a man from the publishing world, and came as a complete surprise. To cut a long story short, we have joined forces, produced a few further drafts, and now have a script in search of a theatre.
We’ve had some positive feedback and various theatre groups are now looking at it. If you think it could be for your local Am Dram group, do get in contact and we could send you a copy. Just think – you could be the first to put Abbot Peter and Tamsin Shah on stage! (It must be on someone’s bucket list.)
And on that bombshell, people sometimes ask me who I’d cast as Abbot Peter and my dreamland answer is always the same: Mark Rylance. I mean, really – who else? (Answers on a postcard.)
Here’s the book in question, if you fancy a read, (or to see me reading from it):
And brief mention of a retreat I’m leading at beautiful Sheldon in August. It’s called ‘Garden Gospel’ and the details are here:
Before then, I’m leading a day retreat at the wonderful House of Prayer, East Molesey, on Saturday 25th July. The details are here:
Anyway – and here the word is used as an act of kindness to the weary reader who’s losing the will to live – my best wishes to you today, wherever you are and whatever you face. We’ll not be overcome.
Simon x
