Memoirs from the train to Rabat

I’m whisping through the Moroccan countryside rolling southwards towards Rabat, the capital of the Kingdom of Morocco, home to the king and the seat of the government. A mixture of green and sandy scenery floats effortlessly past me through the window of train 355.

I’m leaving behind a thing of beauty in Tangier, my first port of call in this country. I shared a magical time there with someone who kept me warm on the cold Moroccan winter nights. I learned more about Morocco, Islam, and love than I could have ever absorbed from guidebooks. It was a magical experience, one that I remember fondly and softly.

Now I’m striding out onto the road again, cruising forwards to bold and exciting new times. The whole country of Morocco is waiting to be explored and I’m eager to savour what I can in my short time here.

On the flight from Paris I started reading an incredible book called The Magician’s Way. It’s the inspiring story of a man’s journey discovering himself and the power of what he calls magic to unleash a life filled with love and joy. The timing was perfect. I can already feel myself loosening and allowing the universe to guide me with an ease and effortlessness I had forgotten this past year in Scotland. I feel a part of myself reopening after a year of darkness.  For the first time in recent memory I am filled with excitement for the possibilities the world has in store.

My time in Scotland was a period of driechness. It was a blessing to be near family and old friends, rejuvenating. But the time to move on was long overdue. Time to taste pastures bright and green.

After a year of prohibition, restraint, and self denial I am reconnecting with myself, my heart, my true passion and purpose. I lost my way for a time, I locked myself into patterns of lacking and needing. I needed more money, more time, more validation, more security, more life. But all the while I was surrounded by all the life, love and joy the universe has to offer. Now I’m reopening my eyes to all that is possible, reconnecting with my own power to manifest magic.

It feels fantastic to be alive.

7 thoughts on “Memoirs from the train to Rabat”

  1. Making me jealous I that trip in 1973. If you are in Rabat go out to Sale. The graveyard is the beach and it was a strange place! Good to hear you happy. Started doing lots of reasearch on the project. In Edinburgh next week. Have fun.

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