Green Patches

Blog of The Week - Camino to Santiago de Compostela

 - St Columba's Bay, Iona

Another Monday, another Blog of The Week.  This time round Ive chosen a theme very much close to my own heart these last years - pilgrimage - and some reflections on the journey by Johnnie Walker on Camino to Santiago de Compostela.  

 " I look sometimes with pity and at other times with jealousy when people stand up in Church and appear to say with utter conviction "I believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, Maker of heaven and Earth." Creeds never did anything for me. Certainly not as much as pilgrimage. I think I spent my whole life developing a method of being in the church with all of its beauty and musical power whilst being insulated from the institution. There are no arrows for the path I have followed to what may be to some the self-evident conclusion that I need to journey towards God rather than the church. My parents felt I had lost my way when I didn't take the career they thought I should, or marry the "right kind" of girl. I've used these words myself with my own children. Useless words. Wrong words. I hadn't lost my way. I was finding my way. I was looking for arrows in a church where there were none. I was looking for signs that God actually exists. I tried very hard. Nothing came.

…Then slowly in the heat of the long meseta I saw the world was a lot bigger than me. In the mountains I saw the raw power of a waterfall, the stately form of a startled deer, an exquisite wild flower blossoming. Across my path I watched the ants and caterpillars march with some purpose of their own. Above the eagles circled high. Heat and distance and solitude. Sweat on my back and a dull ache in my toes. Mile after mile. Never a thought of stopping. Of just chucking it. "Taxi for Walker" never entered my head. Not once. For all of its pain this is too good."

 - for the whole post go here

Many of us struggle to find the words to articulate our own experiences along the road, so we're always blessed by gifted story-tellers and guides like Johnnie who can walk ahead of us and point to where we might encounter God. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be a pilgrim

Being lauched tonight, even as we speak - or blog: Maggi Dawn's The Accidental Pilgrim.  This looks as if it might be just my kind of book.  Now, where's my wish list?

Going Green on Staffa

 

or to be strictly accurate - a whiter shade of pale.  Eagle-eyed readers with 2o/20 vision may just be able to identify the faint blobs in the water as puffins.  When the time came, and after one posponement of the trip - from Iona to Staffa, the sea was so rough that the boat owner decreed that it wasn't possible to land. Happily, we were still able to circle round the coastline to view Fingal's Cave and umpteen types of seabirds, including these cheerful little stripey chaps, with the emphasis on the little. 

 So, yes, I did fulfil my ambition, albeit not quite in the way I'd expected. In the event, I spent most of the trip down in the hold throwing up, as did a growing number of passengers as the trip went on. At one point I raised my head for air to find myself surrounded by silent, grim-faced teenagers, (we were sharing the trip with a school group staying at the McLeod Centre), paper bags held to their mouths, looking for all the world like some new and weird species of elephant.  You'll have to forgive me the hyperbole; after downing enough travel sickness pills  to fell your average pachyderm, my imagination was running along strange lines indeed.  Never mind, in true Blue Peter tradition (Here's one I made earlier), Mr GP rose personfully to the occasion and conducted a mini-photoshoot with one battered 'Old Teddy,' who, after the best part of 200 miles spent stuffed into my rucksack, was brought out to strut his stuff and model his owner's original Puffin Club Founder Members Badge . 

We rolled back home to Iona after that, and, this (still somewhat wobbly) seabird was plunged straight into lunch duty, followed by daily chores - cleaning the loos! 

Was I glad I went on the trip? From a safe distance of over a week...yes.   And the whole holiday/pilgrimage - a hefty 200 miles or so winding our way from Durham to Oban on foot? A definite yes! Which is just as well, after three years in the planning. (It's amazing what daft things one can think up on a rainy week in Cornwall over a pint!).  At time of writing - over seven days since we returned home, I'm still processing it all.

To the last section of the trip, one of the gathering weeks spent with the Iona  presence in the Abbey, again, I'm still pondering what was (for me anyway), a very new, and often challenging experience of living in and building community. If you're not familiar with what staying there entails, this blogger here gives a good account of a typical week.  [would have commented, but this Puffin is technically challenged and wasn't able to get my id to work].

As a member of a dispersed community myself, (TSSF), I was particularly interested in the various takes on living out the Iona Community's rule and purpose out in the world, particularly as to how this works out in practice, and, in retrospect, would have liked to have asked far more questions on the topic: Does it really operate 'as it says on the tin?' Like TSSF, the community has a small, local  group structure  which is intended to serve as a member's primary support structure. What are different peoples' experiences of these? On paper, we appear to have a good many similarities, with maybe a slightly different nuance placed on some forms of service. Overall, I got the impression that that Iona membership is more of a tough call than TSSF; it's ecumenical in name as well as in spirit, and, that  concerted (and unlike tertiaries, group ) social and political action is more than just an obligation for Those Who Like That Kind of Thing , it's an imperative. 

Both communities are growing, evolving and constantly trying to work out how to live as an example of authentic Christian witness 'in the world.'  Both are - or should be, profoundly countercultural. Tertiaries share a common spirituality; but looking at the order through a more sociological lens as in the examples here it's plain that members' experiences, expectations and sense of vision vary enormously. As I expect will be the case for any community or association.  With the rapid growth of  dispersed communities of all kinds today, I guess we can all learn so much from each other. 

Little did I know, over forty years ago that I was effectively, making out a community rule of life! 

 

 

 

 

Puffin' along

image: wikimedia commons

No pun intended...really! I'm thrilled to bits to learn that one of the options for our upcoming wanderings may well include a trip to the island of Staffa, and, with that, a chance to fulfil a childhood ambition - to see some real puffins.

 

To explain, back  in the Swinging Sixties, as a  member of the Puffin Club, I was one of the lucky prizewinners of the Founder Members Competition: prize - a trip to Lundy Island, which back then, was puffin paradise.  

 

Material relating to the first Puffin Club holiday, held for winners of the 'Founder Members Competition'. The five day sailing and camping holiday, held in July 1967, involved a trip to Lundy Island, to see Puffins. The file contains correspondence relating to the trip to Lundy, one notebook containing a 'diary of events', compiled by children on the holiday, and two copies of a leaflet, titled 'P'Super Spree!' describing the visit.

 - archives hub material relating to the late Kaye Webb

Alas, the powers that be decided that at only eight years old, I, and one of the other winners would find all the travelling involved too tiring, (I can remember being shown the letter from Kaye to my parents). Instead we were each awarded a rather lovely puffin revolving bookcase, which was filled with twenty books of our choice.  Heaven indeed for a budding bookworm.  I still have a few of the books I chose, and the bookcase was passed on to my own daughter. 

I'm not sure whether I still have the issue of Puffin Post with the winning entries in my possession or not; it may well have been lost in house moves.  But I know that the competition had something to do with drawing up a set of community rules  for the puffin colony.  Goodness knows what I wrote; as an adult who still finds community  difficult at times, I'd love to have a peep back at the dreams of my younger self.  Though I do remember one of the judges, Joyce Grenfell, (the other, I think, was Yehudi Menhuen), saying that she thought that my island would be a happy place to live.

So now, forty something years later, I finally (weather and seasickness permitting!) get to fulfil my ambition.  It may not be Lundy, but, I'm sure 'Fat Puffin,' (remember him, anybody?) would still approve. 

Whether these musings qualify as ecological, theological or just plain illogical, I've no idea. The latter probably.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quiet Spaces

 Spring Has Sprung with a vengeance round here. So today saw me continuing the  resolution I made at the beginning of the year- with another trip over to sunny Salisbury. 

I have actually managed to fit in a couple of 'spaces,' since January; more by accident than design, funnily enough.  February's consisted of a quiet half hour or so in the Abbey Church at Douai, near Reading, prior to the start of a workshop there.  March's  time out, a quiet day with TSSF here, slightly less so; having organised, though not led, the day, I've discovered that an interior quiet doesn't always come about when you have your admin hat on.  

So, back to today, and my jaunt to Salisbury, to stock up on some travel gear for our next trip and to return some books to the wonderful library at Sarum College. What a glorious afternoon. The Cathedral and Close were far more crowded than they'd been  a few months back; naturally, the Spring weather had brought people out, but not opressively so. There was plenty of room for everybody who wanted to sit sunning themselves on the green or to wander round the Cathedral. (I must admit that I did make a point of avoiding the Cathedral guides, helpful though they be, I'm one of those cussed souls who far prefers wandering around by herself.  I guess it's my reaction to school trips as a teenager, being forced to trail round for what seemed like hour upon endless hour  on guided tours of sundry Places of Interest.  I liked  to do my own exploring and imagine folks from centuries past in my own way. There were several large groups of schoolchildren and students going round during the time I was there. I wonder if there were any who felt the same as I used to.

Ah well, at least, as a 50 something year-old, I no longer have to produce an essay on the trip afterwards. Such are the delights of growing older!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Year - Journeying on

 

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

- TS Eliot – Little Gidding

 Belated New Year Greetings and advance Epiphany wishes from the Greenpatch Blog.  You'll have noticed that I've slipped out of my Christmas guise into something new.   In fact, any readers who've stuck around over the four year life of Greenpatches may have noticed that I've reverted to my original 'Hills' typepad design. That 'Little Gidding' quote is rather apt, when you think about it!

So  - to a new year.  Journeying and pilgrimage have played quite a part in Greenpatch life over the last year or so, both physically and spiritually and  this it looks to be even more the case in 2011.

Blogging has become rather sporadic for me of late.  The above picture points to the reason why - in part at least : whilst I've made the odd attempt at putting paint to paper previously, these last few months I've become ever more drawn into art journaling. I love it! I had thought of putting more of an arty  slant to GP; however, given my gifts of procrastination and spiritual fluttering about, I just know that it'll end up even less focussed than it's been up to now.  I talked early on about the different flavours I was going to use here; all good in their way, but Too Many Cooks and all that... And much of it is quite personal as well.  Greenpatches was orginally intended to  have a Franciscan/Greeny tinge, and it's best kept that way. Simplicity covers more than you think!

Of course, that won't stop me including the odd piece of creative meanderings - if my newish and definitely not Franciscan -spirited computer allows me to.

 

 

 

 

 

Pray Without Ceasing

 

 - Reproduction of Chartres Labyrinth public domain

It's strange where the proverbial long and winding road takes you sometimes. After my usual weekly jaunt down to Sarum College   I extended my stay there to take in a 24 hour 'mini retreat that isn't a retreat yet is' - the second of their series of 'Pray Without Ceasing, '  'Journeys of Faith'   appealed to me instantly when I saw the ad months back; as readers of both my blogs may have realised by now, pilgrimage  metaphorical, spiritual and physical has become a definite theme in the Greenpatch life, these last few years:

Beginning with our Via Podiensa Le Puy - Conques venture into the famous  Compostela route last autumn... fools rush in... and angels count their blisters. Mr GP pictured below making the final descent:

 Our Easter holiday pootle along the Wayfarers Walk from Winchester to 'Ye Fleshpotes of Hungerforde,'  might not be considered a true pilgrimage by the purists. Still, the intention was there and besides,  it didn't half make a good story! 

I count it as no coincidence either, that my faith journey has involved me joining a different church where pilgrimage has  played a significant role in the life of the congregation for many many years. Travelling through the Cotswolds last year  from Winchcombe to Coventry, ending up at the cathedral, old and new, with their theme of peace and reconciliation  and more recently, from Shaftesbury to Winchester has been great fun.  I don't 'travel light' easily, either physically or more pertinently, maybe, spiritually and emotionally; yet looking back even over the short space of a couple of years, I can see small yet none the less significant -  changes,  in which all these journeyings and explorations have played a part. 

Now, at last, plans for the Greenpatch big pilgrimage up north are beginning to take shape.

 

So, to 'Pray Without Ceasing,' where a small but determined group of 'pilgrims' explored labyrinths, pondered pilgrimages and exchanged stories, looked at the many ways we can embody our prayer both personally and in the corporate liturgy of the church and finally, walked the road to Emmaus round the stunningly  beautiful setting of Salisbury Cathedral Close.

I'm no stranger to the use of the labyrinth in worship; having first encountered it many years ago, not without mixed feelings, either; I remember 'freezing' and being totally unable to walk it at the time, for reasons which have partly become apparent since; as I said, with some spiritual parallels. Yet, looking back at it now, though uncomfortable at the time, it marked a significant signpost along the way for me, and, only a few years back another labyrinth 'experience' turned out to be an unexpected and powerful time of encounter with God. This time? Well? The fear has gone. Totally. I found myself journeying with it 'in the dark,' literally, (the chapel in which the labyrinth was temporarily installed), was kept open all night, and just before dawn. (Shades of Mary Magdalene here). Did I meet with Christ there, though?  Well, to be honest, it wasn't always a comfortable time for me; there's much I'm working through at the moment. I'd say 'The meaning is in waiting,' and leave it there.

However, I found the quietness, the stepping out of daily life and the safe space (not to mention the college's wonderful food!) has helped me to be more at peace about the place where I find myself, and I've come away with a sense of having been equipped with some valuable tools to carry with me in my virtual backpack as I continue with the journey.

So, thank you, Sarum College. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pilgrimage: The Road to Emmaus

Pilgrimage is not getting from point A to B on the map while counting the miles.  The distances covered are incidental. What matters is being on the road to Emmaus – the road of discovering Christ in the ‘other’.

Pilgrimage is a school in which we attempt to see God’s hand not only in what we hoped for but what we didn’t want to happen.  It’s the losing method of finding.  You start by stripping your needs down to what you think you can carry, and then – by exhaustion, theft or accident – lighten the load still further.  The only plan you have is what path to follow. and even that doesn’t work out as you imagined it would.

       - Jim Forest in  The Road to Emmaus: Pilgrimage as a Way of Life   With thanks to Pilgrimpace for the quote.

Slow Down - Part Two*

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are all, quite naturally,
impatient in everything to reach the end
without delay.
We should like to skip
the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being
on the way to something unknown,
something new,
and yet it is the law of all progress
that is made by passing through
some stages of instability-
and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually –
let them grow,
let them shape themselves,
without undue haste.
Don't try to force them on,
as though you could be today
what time (that is to say, grace and
circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you
and accept the anxiety of
feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete. 

(Attr to Teilhard de Chardin)

So, my physical pilgrimaging being finished for a while, this week has seen makynge lyke an snaille of a more spiritual nature as I and others from our course took part in a Week of Accompanied Prayer No need to hie one to a nunnery for the duration, the beauty of this week is that you remain home-based, and make a focussed attempt at bringing all the stuff of your daily life,  work, play, anything and everything into your time of retreat,  whilst commiting to 30 minutes in prayer and a meeting each day with a companion or prayer guide. 

'We can never know God as an idea, but only in and through our concrete encounter with others in our life in the world.' John D Godsey The Theology of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, SCM Press 1960 describes it beautifully, (Thank you, A Man Breathing, that was a brilliantly- timed post).

So how was it for me personally? Looking back - I'd say in turns,  good, challenging, supportive, a struggle, surprising, at times boring, others unexpectedly uplifting; that's daily life for you, warts and all! Even, dare I say it - fun!  I'll spare readers' blushes - and mine - and not relate the incident of the free-range 'samples,' (the first half of the week co-incided with a GP's request for more tests; talk about from the sublime to the ridiculous - God's sense of humour knows no bounds...not). Well, maybe, sometime. If you bribe me.

I felt there was a new dynamic apparent in    being guided in this way   Even  though I'm  a fair old veteran of residential retreats and spiritual  accompaniment it was good to have a different take on what was going on (or not going on!)  from somebody who doesn't know me at all. I've learned that I'm not the spiritual snail  I thought I was, more a Zebedee. Note to self: Why do I always spend the beginning of any retreat bleating at the poor guide "But I thought  I had slowed down!"   The Chardin quote which we used in the closing group worship session today says it all, really.  "Where is God for you today, NOW, this minute?" Standing there patiently peering into the dust cloud thrown up by my well-intentioned  attempts to beat my own record at the 100 yard sprint, that's where.

Never mind. One step at a time. During this morning's service we each placed our 'foot,' and those of our companions down in the centre of the worship space to symbolise our continuing journeys,wherever they might lead. Bunions and all.

Then, with the theme of travel fresh in my mind, I spent a pleasant hour or so pottering round the shopping centre and waterside, discovering to my delight  (shame! ) that  the place  was abuzz with handsome young men, warships (well, one actually) and all sorts of exciting events   as part of the Sea Cadets Festival. So I lingered over a cup of tea and a sandwich on the terrace of the Spinnaker Tower cafe. Brisk sea breezes and enough blue sky to make a pair of sailor's trousers -  albeit Action Man sized; what better way to round off the week. 

 

* I had thought of entitling this post "All The Nice Girls Love a Sailor" but thought discretion was the better part of valour and all that.

Day of Rest

On Day Five of their epic walk, the Greenpatches decide that discretion is the better part of  valour. Or put another way - it doesn't hurt to know one's limitations.