Green Patches

I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday...

Now, I"ve not caved in under the pressure of the pre-Christmas razmatazz.  It's simply that I just had one of those pround 'thunks,' (as one does) as I came out from under a heavy duty card writing session just now with burgeoning RSI and that ambivalent sense of weariness and (mild) guilt: (Why can't I be better organised and write them sufficiently early enough that I've time to give some proper news instead of the falsely cheery "Must write/email in the New Year?!"). 

Much as I love the dulcet tones of Wizzard (Hey, I"m a teenager of the Seventies, after all), the thought of it being Christmas Everyday is, to be frank, my idea of hell. However, in an odd way, the Hairy One has a point, (albeit maybe not exactly the point he'd intended to make). If we were to try and live each day as if it were Christmas, that is, with our focus away from all the tinsel, turkey and stuffing and focussed outwards on true peace and love of neighbour, we'd not be forced into cranking it all up artificially - and cramming it into the space of a month or less.

Advent Blog of The Week - The Mercy Blog and Weeble's Wonderings

 

Advent Prayer

 

Lord, still us this today and in this Advent Season – keep us wide awake in these days of waiting. Take from us our anxieties and our preoccupations, our distractions and our despair. Let us be empty in this time before, awaiting your coming with empty hands, and open hearts…

 

Lord, prepare us for your coming. Fill us with the hope of your judgement, and a longing for your justice. Let our hope and our prayer be always for this broken creation of which we are part. Have mercy on all who suffer, human or animal. Help us to bring the good news of your coming, the comfort of hope, the joy of this new kind of waiting…

 

Amen

 - with thanks to Mike F of The Mercy Blog

One evening last week, I was  in  our contemplative prayer group at church, when, towards the end of the session, I was suddenly, as I've described it to myself 'hi-jacked' by a memory  of an item which I'd read in the paper earlier in the day: a particularly horrible example of  pure, gratuitous violence towards a poor, helpless animal, the which defies all belief and about which I simply can't bring myself to give any more details here.  There followed  a  fraught few minutes whilst I  tried alternately to a) push the distraction aside, or b) give  it to God, which last unfortunately and again without giving any details (shudders) seemed unavoidably to involve 're-living it.'  All clever theological explanations seemed pretty irrelevant  just then, and to be honest, pretty feeble, too. We're back to that evergreen topic of theodicy 'How could you, God?'

I've since re-commbobulated myself, so to speak...just, and can see, I think, that this struggle was likely the latest in a series of 'answers,' to a prayer I made leading on from what I brought out of retreat. Why I should be surprised, I don't know. I do think prayer should come with a health warning, though.  Do Not Be Surprised If You Get What You Ask For. 

So the petitions in the prayer "Have mercy on all who suffer, human or animal..." resonates with me as we begin Advent.

 

 

Over on A Weeble's Wonderings Avila reflects on the ever-present struggle with life-work balance and the need to know when and to press those 'recharge' buttons. I chose it for personal reasons; thanks be to God their situation is not my own although some of the issues mentioned do touch several loved ones close to home. It was the final paragraph that spoke to  me however. The 'Who Am I? What Am I?' question and my tendency to define myself solely in relation to the role (I perceive) other people see me in and to whether I shape up to that perception,  has been around now as long as I can remember. We Are Improving slowly....which is good...yet still very much a Work In Progress...

I started with the title 'Who am I? What am I?' - when we can no longer answer these about ourselves, rather than just in relation to other people or roles, then it is a sign we need to find respite, and to find ourselves again.

 - A Weeble's Wonderings - Who Am I? What Am I?

 

  

 

 

'Busy' Fauve and Contemplative Gannets - 2

 

"So beware of behaving wildly like some animal and learn to love God with quiet, eager joy, at rest in body as in soul. Remember your manners, and wait humbly upon our Lord's will. Do not snatch at it, like some greedy greyhound, however much you long for it."

 - The Cloud of Unknowing cp 46 

'Busy' Fauve and Contemplative Gannets

 

Well, that won't win us  the photographer of the year award, will it? Still  it captures our resident French canine 'Busy Fauve,' to a tee. Greenpatch dog operates at two speeds only: full speed ahead or dead stop. This morning we enjoyed a  long, wet, muddy walk where from  start to finish it was nose to the ground, tail in the air and a 100 mph demo of a weaving technique so impressive that I'm tempted to hire him out to the local Caledonian Society for their next Scottish Dancing demo. Life for your average happy, well-fed and loved pooch is happy, shiny and full of exciting discoveries. For who else is  rolling in unidentified, pongy  substances the equivalent of a 5 Star Spa Experience? The sound of a slab of cheese being unwrapped three rooms away like  Grand Opera!

When I wasn't trying to stop GPD dragging me into the canal I got to thinking that  he and I bear a striking resemblance. (apart from the wagging tail and parfum de boue et crotte, of course).  Not that my nearest and dearest could exactly describe me as the life and soul...However, contemplative though I fancy myself to be, and however still I may look on the exterior.. inside..oh dear! At times  I dart about from one fascinating idea to another, sniff at one tantalising possibility, glance off it onto something else , soak in ideas until my head is bursting.  I want more! It's  easy to mistake quantity for quality. It's so insidious, creeps up on you just as you think you've learnt from the last time.  Spiritual indigestion isn't a pretty sight. Though thank goodness I don't have the spiritual equivalent of GPD's dicky digestive system; all  his cavorting around frequently ends up with him bringing up his breakfast. One thing he does get right, however, is living in the moment.  Something I could learn from.

Our cat, though...she simply 'is.' No explanations needed.

To see a 'busy Fauve' in full flight, have a look at the clip below. It's not of our GPD, but 'Bazou' is a joy to watch and for me captures the happy-go lucky attitude to life of this cheerful little dog. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Widgets, randomness and serendipity

I've been directed  into the bowels of this blog - thanks to the delightful randomness of a new toy, the weird and wonderful widget linkwithin . Thanks to another newcomer on the blogroll, Filey Gardener, for twas on her blog that I stumbled across this tool for linking together similarly themed posts and, at least, (according to the site),  to enable you to give some of your old, dusty and forgotten bon mots an airing. 

Whether this always happens in actuality? I'm witholding judgement for now; from what I've seen so far, its system is, shall we say, 'eclectic', random, and with a certain illogicality that makes me wonder what on earth the Myers-Brigg's MBTI system would make of it. INFP, anybody? Why else would my self-indulgent wofflings about Greenbelt the other day be linked to the terse and succinctly-named post 'Dung!' Or, reviving my rusty ex-pat French, 'Crotte!' 

Still, to give it credit for perseverance, it's obviously determined to sharpen its accuracy, and, when I logged on earlier, I couldn't help smiling  when I noticed it had linked to two far more apposite reflections, written in the midst of my more embarrassing bouts of existential angst a few years ago: 'Vocational Self-Assembly Pack,' and 'the d-word: Dancing with the music of the spirit,'

Plus ca change...

 

Blog of The Week - A Reader in Writing

 

So, with nearly a week between myself and Greenbelt, the GP 'Blog of The Week' goes to A Reader in Writing for her brave, honest, and for me personally, serendipitous reflections on some of the difficulties she enountered  in herself  there as a first-time visitor and camper. In spite of my upbeat blog post earlier in the week, I've been struggling to process my very mixed feelings on my GB this year; RIW, when I stumbled across your blog, I breathed  a huge sigh of relief - so much resonated with my own experience - and, from the other comments you received, with many other people too.

There were echos, too,  of this in church this morning. Our theme  was pilgrimage and faith journeys, as a large group of us had been away on our annual pilgrimage the week before GB.  We talked about  the hopes and fears involved in moving on to new stages of our journey: a new class, new school, uni, work, marriage, house moves, retirement... Then the need to acknowledge  our often mixed feelings about these transition times and the (natural) human reaction of either denying the situation or wanting to run away and hide.  Yet, with this, the need to hold to  the knowledge of God's presence with you on the journey.

Chatting after the service, I found myself able to be honest when asked how Greenbelt went and to to acknowledge that yes, for parts of the time it was a lonely experience for me; but also to balance this with some of the many positives without feeling that I was putting  a gloss on things and compromising my own integrity. Quite a step along the road for me. Again, many many thanks.

Maybe for this week only I should rename BOTW - The Golden Tent Peg!

 

 

Light my fire - Thunder and Rainbows

 

 -  Fremte  from Wikimedia Commons

 

 

We could do with some here - thunder I mean.  It's absolutely scorching for the third day running, with humidity at 90% if you believe everything the BBC says.  And much as I'm tempted to rush out into the garden and continue with my painting of everything that moves - and some things  that don't, (the dog is breathing a sigh of relief here), I have retained an ounce  of commonsense. We don't want Mr GP to return from his travels this evening to  discoverhis wife flat out on a bench and the dog decorating  the lawn with Jackson Pollock-type  streaks in tasteful sage and buttermilk.

I've been reflecting a little on what life's been like in the GP household over on my wibsite blog  - and on my own journeyings in particular - where the metaphors of thunder and rainbows and holding the two in tension have and continue to be part of a learning curve.  I'm trying, (famous last words) as I've said on Musings, to major on the rainbows as much as poss. Given my natural tendency to Eyorism (have I coined a new expression?) this is no mean feat.  I've always said that I don't know how I'd cope without my sense of humour. One of the warning signs that I'm beginning to get overstressed and need to lighten up is that it begins to wane. I'll admit - signing on to Youtube and grimly ploughing my way through a selection of comedy clips - as I did after a particularly 'orrible 'blip' last weekend maybe wasn't the way to go. 

However, consciously focusing on those brighter moments, (though without morphing into Julie Andrew's "My Favourite Things" mode; there are limits!) has helped. Nothing new and certainly not rocket science. Readers who are of an Ignatian bent will recognise elements of the examen here: pausing at intervals to reflect on where God's been present , what draws  energises, fires you up  (and what does the opposite). A form of this is actually written into my rule of life as a daily practice. Yes, I am Franciscan I know - but let's allow for overlap, shall we?  Did you know that Francis introduced a form of "Ignatian" meditation long before Inigo was around, with his institution of the first Creche Vivante (living crib); the forerunner of our modern crib scene.

To get back to Inigo -  at the excellent BRF Festival of Prayer  recently one speaker told of a similar exercise which has really caught my imagination: their spiritual director had challenged them to try and list 100 (Yes, you read it correctly, one hundred) things that energised and brought them alive. Talk about a challenge. Is it really possible? Time will tell. To date my 'list ' has around 30 or 40 items on it; there are days when it sits at the back of my journal untouched, others when I add several at a time.  It certainly resonates with the way in which I've been experiencing a sense of quiet prayerfulness in some of the most unlikely activities recently - hence the mad garden painting spree.  It's a far cry from the rather (at times) grim, greyish, often extremely cerebral 'Quiet Time' which even  if  it's not actually used up much   of my time, certainly has provoked a lorry load of guilt  in the past.  I'm not the only one it seems. There's a discussion currently over on The Ship on the self same topic. I just love the poster who describes her  prayer practice nowadays as more "Every Now and Then with Jesus."

Happily I'm beginning to loosen up nowadays and am trying to balance regularity and spontaneity.  Not quite in the same way as those delightful Beaker Folk, thank  the Lord, but I'm getting there. Though maybe counting my exploits with a Kelly Kettle and homemade bunting (my latest craft project) as meditative prayer practices is carrying the definition a tad too far. I'll be into fire eating and prophetic banner waving before you can turn round, and then, where will we be?

Blog of The Week - Introverted Church

Two for the price of one this week.  Adam McHugh's Introverted Church blog  is another long-term occupant of my reader; his  book - Introverts in the Church is on my wish-list.  What caught my eye last week was his quoting Aubry Smith's marvellous 'Introvert Summer Camp'  , which tackles two important topics: Introverts and Youth ministry.

Granted my only experience of Youth Camps  when younger was Guide Camp, where (mercifully) I can recall little of the horrors Aubry relates. (I'd have run a mile!).  From the little I can recall, the chief qualities required way back then were a cast-iron stomach and that peculiarly British stoicism needed in order to transcend mud, constantly damp clothes and boredom at not being allowed to do very much. Or at least - not being allowed to do what we wanted to do. (My patrol's illicit midnight hike over into the adjoining field to visit the Scouts was the final nail in the coffin; I was politely directed out of the Guide Association not long afterwards!).  

But as an adult, I'll admit to having a bit of a love-hate relationship with church weekends away, festivals and the like. I've a few horror stories; a few places I'd  not touch with the proverbial barge-pole and others  - like Greenbelt festival, for example, where I've gained so much that I'm prepared to put up and work with stuff that takes me outside of my comfort zones. Not that Greenbelt in any way resembles the horrors hinted at in McHugh's and Smith's posts. A fair bit for me is to do with maturity and self-awareness, balance; the advantage of having the time and wherewithal to prepare beforehand for potentially tricky situations. 

So, yes, I'll be bookmarking this particular post and going back to it over the next few months.

Thanks to both of you.

Last week's Blog of The Week: The Year of Living Frugally.

 

 

 

 

Keep right on

Cartoon with thanks to Dave Walker

 

(This has nothing  whatsoever  to do with self-assembly furniture, by the way; I simply wanted to keep to the tradition of using three headings all beginning with the same letter!)

Tis mystery all...

I'm reading my way through Luke just now, and, with that timing that makes me wonder sometimes, reached chapter 13 and the healing of the bent over woman, just as the same narrative   comes up as yesterday's gospel. I've blogged here before about my various knots and tangles and as I listened it occurred to me that much of my positive, spiritual and emotional untangling seems to be occurring in inverse correlation to the wonderful and various goings-ons in the Greenpatch physical innards. Seems to be par for the course, if the info I'm gleaning from other women at the same Time of Life as myself is true.

Listening to the sermon in church, my mind went back to the wee small hours, trying (and failing) to sleep, huddled up in 'my' favourite armchair hanging on to Psalm 139, one line in particular: "My body was not a mystery to you..."  Hmm...thank you, God; just as well somebody understands it, as it's more than a mystery to me!" I'm thinking of packing that verse in my indigestion tablets. 

For more  thoughts  on Luke, Roberta's reflections are worth a visit. I hope the back keeps improving.