Being Beckoned

Later today, I’m going to walk around Ghent centrum to see what’s there.  It’s a stunning city, full of surprises, full of majesties to write about.

Right now I’m sitting on the terrace of Jaggers, awaiting breakfast.  In front is the Vrijdagmarkt – a lovely public square.  In English it’s “Friday Market” and since this is Friday, vendors, displays and visitors fill the space.

Near me I see clothes hanging.  Look how bright!  Look how lovely!

It would be easy to write about this explosion of energy.  “Oh!  You’re so beautiful.  I will write about you.”  But in this moment the writing would not be true.  The dresses are not calling me.

I need to be beckoned.  “Bruce, please come here and write about me.”  Whoever is calling needs to be known.  My blog will do nicely.

I trust that I will be approached and asked to express … today. 

I’m smiling.


Wandering … listening … looking up


There!  Do you see it?  Do you feel it?  Is it coming towards us?

“Show the three of us together, Bruce.  Have people see.  We’re side by side.  All lofty.  All shining.  Ghent, Belgium, the European Union.  We belong to each other.  We are strong, with our arms over each others’ shoulders.  In union, we can do great things.  Look at us please.  And come close.”

And so I write …

2 thoughts on “Being Beckoned

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