So – today is 25 January – what do I write about? The Conversion of St Paul or Robert Burns? I have to confess to feeling somewhat iffy about Burns; I place the blame firmly on being brought up in London. On the other hand, it was a posh Grammar School and we did sort of study Burns and his poetry, but for some reason it never clicked with me. This in itself was unusual, for I lived my growing-up life as someone who felt like a Scot in England, and loved my yearly trips north each year. Then when I moved to Scotland on leaving school, I ended up feeling like an English person in Scotland. It took a good few years for me to feel comfortable in my own skin……….. and now I know that I am forever a mongrel (Scottish mother, English father.)
Come to think of it, I never did understand the language in Robert Burns and the English Literature teacher at school was somewhat out of her depth. However, this morning I heard the inimitable My love is like a red, red rose……… and felt the better for it.
So here’s Eva Cassidy in a beautiful version of it. A different kind of spirituality from Paul, but valid nonetheless.