Sometimes it feels like you pass just inches from the truth, like you can make out the shadows in the fog for a moment. It’s never less than tantalising but there’s no grabbing hold of anything solid. Just an echoing, aching feeling of nearness. Anyway, I’ve had one of those tonight. It was around the idea of no longer trying, simply being – that as I get closer to that kind of stillness, I become more and more exactly where and who I should be.

But it’s gone. I’ve been for a run since. Now it all sounds like such pseudometaphysical hogwash I can barely stomach it. All I have left me is the dim awareness that when I’ve come near such things, I have seldom been entirely mistaken.