Discerning the Next Right Thing

The management guru, Peter Drucker, once wrote, "Doing the right thing is more important than doing the thing right."

He further explains, "Efficiency is doing things right. Effectiveness is doing the right things." In other words, we can spend our lives doing things right, but not make a difference, if the things we have chosen to concentrate on are not the right things.

How are we to discern what the "right things" are? Parker J. Palmer speaks of "the thread you've followed, unknowing, all along, the thread that strings together all you've been and done, the thread you didn't know you were tracking until, toward the end, you see that the thread is what stays as everything else falls away."

What is this thread? I suppose in one sense it could refer to our conscience, or to that deepest part of ourselves, which is where the Divine Spark resides. Wayne Muller suggests, "We make only one choice. Throughout our lives, we do only one thing - again and again, moment by moment, year after year. It is how we live our days, and it is how we shape our lives. The only choice we make - what is the next right thing to do - responds to a similarly vital inner gravity, an invisible thread that shapes our life, as our life meets the world."

Muller goes on to ask, "What is the next right thing for us to do? Where in this moment, shall we choose to place our time and attention? Do we stay or move, speak or keep silent, attend to this person, that task, move in this or that direction?"

The results of following this process have shaped our lives. All of us are where we are, now, today, because of our past choices. And where we end up, tomorrow and the next day, will depend on the choices we make today.

I guess it is about learning to understand, to discern, what is right for us on the deepest level - what will nourish our hearts and souls, as opposed to making us feel fearful, worried, or empty. Of course, it is never possible to re-track, to undo the choices we have already made; but we can try to be more aware of the choice-making process, so that we don't compromise all the time, choosing the seemingly easy over the right. Because very often, a choice made in haste, just to get it over with, actually leads to more worry and heartache, rather than less.

So how can we cultivate this very sane approach to our lives? Discerning what the next right thing is, is something we need to practice every day. We also need good, honest friends, to whom we can go for advice when we are struggling, and who will tell us honestly and compassionately how we are doing - whether we seem grounded and centred, on the right track, or off-course and flailing. We also need to *be* such friends, to one another.

I think we have to believe that if we follow our intuition truly, it will not let us down. Doing so will enable us to remain in our integrity and follow the thread of our deepest beliefs.  Integrity is not something we can achieve all at once. It is the work of a lifetime. Yet every time we choose the way of integrity, the way of truth-telling, the way of following the deepest thread of our lives, the more it will become habitual and the braver we will become. It is up to us to make the attempt to be authentic, to live with integrity, to be true to ourselves and to what we value in our hearts, rather than trying to persuade ourselves into inappropriate feelings, just because they are what the majority in society believe. It is not a particularly comfortable way to live - it is much easier to run with the crowd and to follow others - to "fit in". 

But if we can learn to follow the "still, small voice" of our consciences, to follow where that invisible thread is leading, there is a better chance that we will be able to do some good in the world. We are all inter-connected - to other human beings, and to this beautiful planet we live on. As Joel Miller wrote, "Any act one of us will choose must change other lives, just as every act others choose changes our own lives."

May we all choose to trust our intuition, and follow the deepest thread of our lives, the "breadcrumbs of God" that will lead us to a place of centred integrity.

 

 

 

 

 

In Praise of Old-fashioned Service

People who know me in person will know that I live in trainers, wide, mesh trainers. This is because, by a quirk of genetics, I was born with extremely broad feet. Feet that normal "wide-fit" shoes pinch and torture. I have one pair of black, leather ankle boots which are comfortable, which I've owned for the past ten years, and wear for leading worship. Otherwise, it is trainers, or sandals with Velcro fastenings, with ugly miles of Velcro showing, because they only just fit round my feet. 

I tell you this, not to garner pity, but to explain why, until yesterday, I had given up hope of actually finding a pair of shoes which I could wear with a dress, without feeling self-conscious. Which is why I wear trousers, 99.5% of the time, no matter how warm the weather.

My daughter is getting married at the end of August, and I have bought a beautiful dress for the occasion. But what to wear on my feet? Neither trainers nor tatty sandals will do. Then I saw an advert on Facebook, for DB Shoes in Rushden, which is not too far away from us. (NB I am not getting paid anything for this post). On their website, they claim, "Our mission is to offer shoes which give the 'freedom' to be able to walk in complete comfort and the 'joy' of living your life to the full without thinking about your feet!" 

It was worth a try... I gave them a ring, and was asked to make an appointment... we went yesterday afternoon. In the meantime, I had a good browse of the website and made a mental list of the styles I wanted to try.

A kind lady called Sue spent nearly the whole hour with me. We tried on innumerable shoes and sandals, and nothing was quite right. As soon as I stood up (or sometimes, as soon as I slipped the shoe onto my foot), ouch! Sue did not despair - she kept making other suggestions, fetching different sizes and widths, removing in-soles - nothing was too much trouble.  Eventually, we found a pair of Mary Janes in the right colour to go with my dress, which are so comfortable, I cannot believe it. I am going back next week to buy another pair, in black.

The point of this post is in praise of old-fashioned service. These days, it is rare to have the complete and undivided attention of a shop-assistant for such a long period of time. She knew her stuff, and was able to recommend alternatives until we found the right one. I am so very grateful to her.

Participation in the Life of God

This week, in his daily e-mails from the Center for Action and Contemplation, Fr. Richard Rohr is writing about hope. And on Wednesday, these words jumped out at me: "Hope is a participation in the very life of God. It has nothing to do with circumstances or events going well. It can even thrive in the midst of adversity and trial. True faith, which always includes hope and love, is a predisposition to "yes". I would go so far as to say that a foundational "yes" is the most distinguishing element between an ego- and fear-based agenda, and a Spirit-guided one."

It is commonly during the second half of life that we begin to yearn for something other than earthly goals – a sense of longing can possess our souls, turning us towards the spiritual, towards the divine. This second half of life pilgrimage does not have an end point – we travel on, deeper into the heart of God, letting go of the things which seemed so important in our earlier years – status, belongings, and so on.

I have learned that this second half of life journey towards authenticity and wholeness is about the attempt to become whole, about being the same "me" wherever I am, and whoever I am with, rather than cutting my cloth according to the circumstances. It is also about doing a lot of shadow work, about digging deep to discover the real me, the open and vulnerable person behind the façade I had spent so many years carefully cultivating. Then working out how to integrate that authentic self into the real world out there. It is a tough call, not for the faint-hearted. But so worthwhile.

Part of the journey has been about reclaiming a childlike trust in life. For me, being childlike means being open and vulnerable, trusting and curious, rather than closed down, armoured up, mistrustful and cynical. It is a courageous way to live because it means that we are more vulnerable to being hurt by others. And when we have been hurt in the past, it may be difficult for us to trust others again, to trust that the universe is not (all appearances to the contrary, sometimes) “out to get us.” I found that I wanted to trust that the universe is (on the whole) a benevolent place in which to live. Believing this may be naïve, but it has made me much happier.

I have come to understand that faith and trust are facets of our deepest nature. But as life goes on, and we encounter betrayal in our lives – as we surely will – that faith and trust can be eroded. It can take a lifetime to choose to be sufficiently vulnerable to dare to trust again. These betrayals, which sadly seem to be an inevitable part of life, need not be great ones which bring our whole world crashing down around us.  Any time someone lies to us, even a white lie, or doesn't turn up when they said they would, or is unkind to us, we can feel betrayed. Once we feel that way, it can take a lot of time to build up sufficient faith to make the world seem trustable again. It can even shake our faith in the essential goodness of humankind.

Yet I now realise that if I am to live authentically, with faith, I need to take the bold step of trusting. Otherwise, my soul will shrivel in my body and I will turn into a suspicious, armoured-up person who trusts no-one. I would not be “me” any more.

Part of learning to trust has been often choosing to leap before I look, rather than being sensible and sober and looking before I leap. I have always tended to be impulsive about seizing new opportunities to grow as a person. I’ll see an advert for a new online course (for example) and sign up for it just because it looks interesting. I have always tried to jump in the direction of new opportunities, choosing to say “Yes” to life, rather than “No, I can’t, I’m scared, what if I fail?” (Hence the bungee jump in New Zealand!) I would far rather try something new, something different and not succeed, than rest on my (very few) laurels and not LIVE.

The Word and the Language

Last night, my husband and I watched a fascinating episode of the BBC programme Hidden Treasures of the National Trust. It featured the austere Welsh farmhouse, Tŷ Mawr, where William Morgan, translator of the first Bible into Welsh, lived and worked. We visited it a few years ago, and were captivated by its collection of Bibles in the vernacular. Including, of course, William Morgan's Welsh Bible, which was published in 1588.

Title page of Welsh Bible 1588

(image Wikimedia Commons)

One of the things repeatedly mentioned during the programme was the huge impact the publication of the Bible had on the Welsh language. In a very real sense, it shaped Welsh as we now know it, and preserved it as a living language. As did the King James Bible for English, when that was published in 1611.

Tŷ Mawr now holds a collection of Bibles in many languages, donated by visitors - I think they said over 300. The more obscure of which would undoubtedly have become "dead" languages, with no living speakers, had it not been for the existence of a Bible in their tongue.

I find the link between the Word and the language so interesting. In the case of English, of course, a certain Stratford playwright also had a huge influence on the shape of the language. But between Shakespeare and the Bible, English as we know it was formed, in the late16th / early 17th century. The centuries since then have merely added elaborations. I think it is noteworthy that on the long-running Radio 4 programme Desert Island Discs, each 'castaway' is automatically given the complete works of Shakespeare and the Bible (although these days, it might be another religious or philosophical work of choice) and then allowed to choose a third book. The point being, Roy Plomley, the originator of the programme, saw Shakespeare and the Bible as fundamentals.

Today, we are a proudly multicultural country, speaking a plethora of languages. But I think we should always be grateful for the influences that the language of the Bible has had on them, enriching and preserving them.

Last Message

A while ago, I came across this question: "If you had only one last message to leave to the handful of people who are most important to you, what would it be in twenty-five words or less?"

image PxHere

This is a question in two parts, which requires separate answers. First, who are the people most important to you? Answer: my immediate family, and my best friend. The second, "What would it be in twenty-five words or less?" Which takes rather more thinking about.

On reflection, it would be about love and kindness. Not about ambition, not about getting on. Not even about my hopes and dreams for them. Twenty-five words doesn't allow the space for those kinds of sentiments. Thinking about this made me go deep: to really consider what is the most important thing in the world, to me. It is linked to a supplementary question: "How would you like to be remembered?" And I have realised that I do not want to be remembered for my small achievements, for degrees, my career, not even for the books I have published (although it would be good if they lasted!) I want to be remembered as someone who cared deeply about other people, about other living beings, who wanted to leave the world a better place than she found it.

Perhaps something along the lines of: 

"I love you, just the way you are. 

Be kind to others; love them as I have loved you. 

Leave the world a better place."

Because really, love is all that matters. Love makes the world go round, as the old cliché has it. Without love, we cannot fully live; we merely exist. Being truly loved, for ourselves, just as we are, enables us to accept ourselves. And then to reach out and share that love with other people, other living beings. (Even my cat, who is insisting on sitting on my knee as I write this, and glooping all over the keyboard). There is nothing more vital for the future of our world. Without love, we and our world will spiral down into chaos.

Blessings

The Irish mystic, John O’Donohue, calls a blessing, “a circle of light drawn around a person to protect, heal and strengthen.” He suggests that a blessing “is different from a greeting, a hug, a salute or an affirmation; it opens a different door in human encounter. One enters into the forecourt of the soul, the source of intimacy and the compass of destiny.” And that blessing someone can help them to become whole.

My understanding of the power of invoking a blessing on someone is that it somehow alerts the divine (as if it needed alerting) to our good wishes for that person, our benevolent feelings towards them. As O’Donohue says, “The beauty of blessing is its belief that it can affect what unfolds.”

I truly believe that each of us can bring blessings to the wider world – to the chance-met stranger, to the people in our city, town or village, to causes we care about. If you believe, as I do, that every human being has a spark of the divine in them, then we should try to respond to every person we meet as though we are encountering a possible new friend. I wonder how different our world would be if we tried to bear that in mind, every day?

Another aspect of blessings is our ability to recognise when we feel blessed. Sometimes, another person may bless us directly with words. I will never forget an experience I had on a Saturday intensive during my spiritual direction training. There were twelve of us and the course leader asked us to do the following exercise: Six of us sat in a circle, the other six standing behind. Each standing person was asked to think silently of what they would want the most important person in their childhood to say to them, and then to go around the seated circle, whispering it into the right ear of each seated person. Then we swapped, and the seated people did the same to the other six.

To receive the six benedictions was incredibly powerful – I was in tears by the end, and I was not the only one… And then to share my own blessing with those six friends, “My precious child, I love you just the way you are” was also so very special. It left us all with deep feelings of thankfulness and connection. In the words of Marianne Wilkinson, “If I choose to bless another person, I will always end up feeling more blessed.” So very true.

Sometimes, the blessing we experience will be less overt, and will need to be sensed and appreciated. One time that I was very conscious of feeling blessed happened a few years ago, when my husband and I spent a week in our favourite part of Wales with my daughter and her fiancé. The kids were tired out from work, and so was I. So we decided to take each day as it came. We got up late, had leisurely breakfasts, then headed out to explore that beautiful part of Wales – Dolgoch Falls, Portmeirion, Harlech Castle (and the wonderful ice-cream shop just below it), the Panorama Walk above Barmouth, and Bodnant Gardens. We ate some fabulous meals, and relaxed each evening, either playing some hilarious games of pool or watching DVDs together.

Each day was different and each day was wonderful. Full of wonder. We managed to let go of “ought to” and “need to” and simply went with the flow. Whatever we did, wherever we went, I tried to be present and full of wonder and joy and gratitude. The whole week was a lesson in the gentle art of being present, of having no particular goal in mind. Of simply being. Looking back, it was one of the best holidays ever. I was so blessed.

 

Aging with Grace, Mischief, or Both

The other day on Facebook, I came across the quote below on the Wild Woman Sisterhood page. It reads, "Your time on Earth is limited. Don't try to 'age with grace,' age with mischief, audacity, and a good story to tell." A little googling has told me it was written by "mindfulness expert and author", Case Kenny.

On the surface, I thoroughly agree with him. I have seen far too many older people (men as well as women) "disappear" as they grew older - disregarded by their families and their communities. Or at least, this is often true in the West. In societies such as Japan and China, the old are honoured as sources of wisdom, sages. We in the West should take a leaf out of their book, I think, and be willing to learn from our elders.

As many of you will know, I fully intend to "age with mischief and audacity, and a good story to tell." I started the process last March, by bungee-jumping off a 141 foot high bridge in New Zealand, for charity. It was an absolutely fabulous experience, which I will never forget, and it has set me up to age boldly.

However, I would also like to say a word for aging with grace. As we grow older, and have seen more of the world, we will (hopefully) have garnered some wisdom along the way. And will perhaps have realised that the "small stuff" - the petty irritations of day to day living - doesn't matter. For me, aging with grace is about letting go of the stuff that doesn't matter, while holding on to (and advocating fiercely for) the stuff that does.

As I have grown older (and perhaps a little wiser) I have learned to think before reacting. I believe that this is the core of aging with grace. The one constant of life is change, and the art of aging with grace is accepting that, not passively, but actively. It is not about no longer caring, but it is about not going off half-cock, whenever something happens. It is about the unique ability to take the longer view about events, because we have "been there, done that", and hence have a different perspective. 

Happy Beltane!

Beltane, which is the Pagan festival celebrated on 1^st May, is the third Spring festival of the Pagan year. The first is Imbolc, celebrated on 2^nd February and the second is the Spring Equinox, celebrated on 21^st March. As my friend, Celia Cartwright, wrote, “The cycle of Summer is ushered in at Beltane, a time for warmth, sunshine and for crops and cattle to grow strong and fat, and so provide a rich harvest to last the winter.”

It is also, as she wrote, “a time of renewing energy, of thanksgiving and hope.” And this Spring, I can sense all these things in the world around us. The Annual Meetings of the General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches are always held during the Spring. And this year, they too were a time of renewing energy, thanksgiving and hope. More than three hundred Unitarians from all over the country attended and I think most of us left with hearts uplifted and new hope for the future. Daniel Costley’s Anniversary Service was particularly inspirational. It was an honour to stand on the stage during it and be recognised as a retiring minister.

 I think it is important that we can continue to experience the wonder of Spring – the sense of divine renewal, the small annual miracles of the first flowers and the first buds appearing. They have got to be a sign of hope, that Winter cannot last forever. There is the wonderful dichotomy between the revelation of the eternal round, and the revelation of that which is new. Every Spring we encounter something never before seen, a glimpse of potential for the future.

Spring is also the time when we feel renewed and have new resources of energy. It is no accident that Spring cleaning has endured as a tradition through the centuries. Partly it is a necessity (more so in times past, when people almost hibernated during the cold winter months, and Spring was the time of the big clear out). But it is almost an instinct too – it is a time for taking stock of what we have, of discarding the broken and useless, of repairing what is worn but useful, and of setting our faces forward for the year ahead. 

If we don’t carry out a periodic Spring clean, our lives can become cluttered and stagnant, with no space for renewal and growth. You can guess by this that I’m not just talking about physical Spring cleaning, satisfying though that is, but also about mental and spiritual Spring cleaning. It is only too easy to plod along in the same old ways, carrying out the same old duties, not realising how flat and dull our lives have become. Sometimes we need to have a good breath of fresh air blowing through our lives, revitalising us and setting us on a new path in good heart.

 

All We Have To Decide

When I was in New Zealand, I treated myself to a black t-shirt from the Weta Workshop in Wellington. It has an image of Gandalf on the front, with the following words printed around him: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Gandalf says these words to Frodo, who is bemoaning the fact that the Ring has come to him, and darkness is gathering. "I wish it need not have happened in my time." In the book, this happens very early on, in the crucial second chapter of Fellowship of the Ring, 'The Shadow of the Past'. 

I wonder whether it was hearing these words from his old friend and mentor which gave Frodo the courage to set off on the quest to destroy the Ring. "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." From somewhere deep inside him, Frodo finds the courage to begin, although at first he does not realise that he will end up taking the Ring all the way to the Cracks of Doom in Mordor.

As in fantasy fiction, so in real life. As in Middle-earth, "our time is beginning to look black. The Enemy is fast becoming very strong." All across the world, there are wars, violence, hunger, and poverty. In our society, homophobia, sexism, racism, insidious privilege, and other aspects of intolerance and hatred are growing like rank weeds. Our planet is being despoiled and many species (both flora and fauna) are facing extinction. 

So, "all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." It sounds so simple, but it is absolutely not. No one person can cure the ills of the world. But each one of us can choose to Stand on the Side of Love, as the Unitarian Universalists say, and speak and act against the evils we see and experience. We may not be able to make a huge difference - we are not all Greta Thunbergs or Martin Luther King Jrs,  - but every little helps.

The Difference between Liking and Loving

I cannot remember which wise person said that it is not possible to like everybody, but you should try to love everybody. But I have never forgotten it.

I found a fascinating article, by Anita Oge, here. It lists eleven ways in which liking differs from loving. They are: the depth of the connection; commitment and sacrifice; the time factor; fear and vulnerability; the intensity of the emotion; the quality of time; acceptance and understanding; effort and consistency; need vs choice; memory and longevity; and in love, there is compromise. It is well worth a read.

Liking someone is more superficial - it's about having things in common, being attracted to someone for their personality, enjoying their conversation, sharing experiences with them. Conversely, disliking someone is about elements of their personality rubbing you up the wrong way, or you disagree with their opinions - the list of reasons for liking or disliking someone is endless, and each reason usually begins (however unconsciously) in judgement, for or against.

Loving someone is far deeper, far less conditional. It involves time and trust and commitment; a willingness to be vulnerable; and an acceptance of the whole person, 'warts and all'. Jesus famously told us, in his Sermon on the Mount in The Gospel of Matthew "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?"

Possibly the hardest advice to hear (or read) in these troubled times. Because yes, he is talking about our enemies - the politicians and warmongers who are wreaking havoc on our world; the fat-cat industrialists who are despoiling our planet for their own profit. That friend or family member who annoys the hell out of you by their behaviour. They, too, are children of God.

I don't think loving someone involves lying down and letting them walk all over you. But it does involve a principled commitment to compassion - trying to walk a mile in their shoes, so that you can begin to understand where they are coming from. For me, it is the true Way of the Cross that Christians talk about.

Never Judge a Book by Its Cover

The well-known phrase, "Never judge a book by its cover" has been variously attributed to George Eliot (in The Mill on the Floss), or to Edwin Rolfe and Lester Fuller's murder mystery, Murder in the Glass Room. The photo below attributes it to the German comic book writer and illustrator, Walter Moers.

However, I don't think it matters who originally wrote it. What matters is its message of not relying on first appearances to form your opinion of anything (or anyone). Judgement is something we all do, constantly, and we are rarely correct (or at least, not at first). 

[I am slightly embarrassed to report that my first reaction to seeing the photo above was judgement. It is one of my pet peeves, when people arrange books on shelves by colour! My librarian's soul rises up in protest. Arrange them by subject, arranged them alphabetically by author (or even by title). But why, oh why arrange them by the colour of the spine?? Books are not simply decorative objects. What matters is what is inside them, and I cannot understand why people would choose to make it harder to find the book they want... End of rant.]

I have blogged several times about how judgement (or at least, judgement without prior consideration) is a Bad Thing. Here, and here, and here, for example. My point being, we are all "unique, precious, children of God" and all have the right to our own lives, our own opinions, without being judged by anyone else. 

Many posts on social media are all about judgement - people are excoriated or praised on their external appearance or obvious behaviour - if you dress  or style your make-up or hair individually, if your skin is a different colour, if you are not heterosexual... most of us find it only too easy to judge others, usually to their detriment. But all that judgement does is demonstrate the judger's closed mind. I repeat again the Quaker phrase, "Each one of us is unique, precious, a child of God."

Perhaps if more of us remembered this, more of the time, the world would be a happier, kinder place... Or am I being judgemental?

Reading and Thinking

The 12th century French abbot and mystic, Bernard of Clairvaux, once wrote, "Reading without thinking makes you dull; thinking without reading goes astray."

All these centuries later, his words still ring true. If we read without thinking about the words we are taking in, if we accept them uncritically, without really thinking about what we are reading, we are not doing justice to them. I am guilty of this at times - when I have a new book, I tear through it at a rate of knots, desperate to find out what happens next. But I am not savouring each word, each sentence, each paragraph, let alone thinking about their deeper meaning. Which is doing an injustice to the author, who will have chosen each word carefully.... It is also likely that we will miss the deeper meaning of the words, if any.

Or not. Many of the posts on social media are dashed out without thinking at all about the impact they might have on those who read them. Or worse, in the sure and certain knowledge that they will upset or inflame people. Which is equally as bad.

On the other side of the coin, thinking without reading can be equally dangerous. Our minds can be seized by an idea and we rush off and do something impulsive as a result. Which may be unwise, or even dangerous. When we are presented with a new idea, it is our duty to receive it critically, to fact-check it, and to read around it. Many illustrations of this are in the popular health TV series Dr Xand's Con or Cure, which features people who have been taken in by posts on social media which promise instant cures for their ills. Viewers are warned to do their research before ordering anything, rather than relying on the website's own claims. I tested this for myself last night - a post popped up on Facebook for some sleep patches, claiming that using them results in 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night. I remembered what they had advised on the programme, and checked the product on Trust Pilot. To find that 93% of the reviews were one star ones.

And the moral of the story is that we need to both think and read critically, so that we are able to respond wisely and with judgement to both thoughts and written material.

Peak Experiences

 For most of us, life is fairly ordinary. And that is its own special miracle. To live our lives, day to day, to experience joy and sorrow, bliss and pain, company and solitude, and to be aware of the sacred nature of each experience, is to live well.

But sometimes, if we are very lucky, we will have a "once in a lifetime" experience, which lifts us out of of our ordinary lives. For the duration of whatever it is, our senses are heightened, and we appreciate everything vividly and with joy.

I have been so blessed to have this happen to me, in the first half of March. As many of my readers will know, I have spent the past two weeks on a Lord of the Rings tour in New Zealand. And it was completely amazing, a fabulous experience which I will look back on with fondness for the rest of my life. I am grateful for so many things:

• The dedication of the tour leaders (Julie on North Island, Josh on South Island) who consistently went the extra mile to make the experience as special and wonderful for us as they could.
• The unexpected fun of re-enacting scenes (complete with props) from the films in the locations they were shot.
• The unbelievably beautiful country that is New Zealand. And we were so very blessed with the weather. At the beginning of the tour, Julie warned us that we could experience "all four seasons in one day". But we had 15 straight days of blue skies and sunshine.
• The deep bonds formed with other members of the Fellowship. It was like Summer School - we came together as strangers, had rich and meaningful experiences together and, when we parted, it felt like a little death.
• The way we singletons (half a dozen out of 39) were folded into the community - everyone was included, no-one was left out.
• Making friendships which I believe will last long-term.
• The joy of "talking Tolkien" morning, noon, and night, with fellow Tolkien enthusiasts.
• Having the courage to do the bungee jump. Standing on the edge of the platform, 141 feet about the River Anduin, I felt a moment of intense fear, then I dove, and it was done, and it was amazing.
• The fun of the two on-coach quizzes - the range and depth of knowledge in the group was amazing.
• The WhatsApp group which one member set up on the first day, on which we all shared our photos.

I consider myself so fortunate to have been able to do this, and it certainly started my retirement with a bang! Whenever I feel down, I will be able to look back on this special time, and feel a warm glow of happiness.

15th March: Last day - Nomad 4WD tours

 My final full day in New Zealand began with Mother’s Day wishes from Becky and David, which touched my heart. 

We were collected from the hotel for the first tour at 8 am. We travelled to more LotR locations around Queenstown and Glenorchy, including Deer Park Heights, above Queenstown, where the Rohan refugees trek round the lake and the warg fight were filmed, and  the site of the Argonath, which were just round a bend in the river from the bungee jump bridge. And I learned something new: Peter Jackson asked Viggo Mortensen’s wife for photos of his father and grandfather, then gave them to the miniatures department to use for inspiration for Isildur and Anarion!

We also visited Paradise, where Beorn’s house was located in The Hobbit movies, and is also where the scene of Boromir with  the Ring, the bursting of the Isengard dam and the tail of the Southern Alps are.

We then returned to Queenstown for lunch before going on a second tour which I didn’t enjoy as much, as it included some very bumpy off road driving, a chance to pan for gold (tedious) near Arrowtown. We also visited Skipper’s Canyon ( part of the New Zealand gold rush in 1862) which had spectacular scenery. But Maz would have hated it - it was a single-track gravel road with a vertiginous drop off on one side.

Back to the hotel by 5:30. After I’ve had a farewell drink with Aarthi and Sarah at 7 (they are leaving at 5 am tomorrow) I’m going to spend the rest of my evening wrangling all my belongings into backpack and suitcase.

It has been a amazingly amazing holiday, which I will never forget, but I will be glad to get home and see you all xxxx

14th March: Fangorn and the Breaking of the Fellowship

Today was an out-and-back day from Queenstown, as we visited the Mavora Lakes area, to see (and in some cases, re-enact) the orc funeral pyre and the calling of Shadowfax at the edge of Fangorn Forest, the tree Frodo hid behind to escape the Uruk hai, and the Silverlode River - Nen Hithoel where Frodo and Sam paddle across the river at the breaking of the Fellowship. Those of us who had purchased greenstone jewellery had it blessed there, which was so special.

This evening, we have our farewell dinner with Josh at the hotel restaurant. The last full day is tomorrow.

On the journey, the two teams (captained by me and Rebecca, who came second in the individual quiz earlier this week) faced off in a Tolkien trivia quiz, in which the 40 questions for each team had been set by members of the opposing team (2 each). There were some doozies, and I was very glad of the in-depth knowledge of my fellow nerds. Our team won by 5 points - 31 to 26.

All good fun!

13th March: Bungee Jump and Queenstown

 Today was bungee jumping day. As usual, the anticipation was far worse than the reality. Once I was up there and securely strapped into my harness and round my ankles, my fear vanished and I just did it. There was no time to balk - they shepherd you forwards to the edge of the platform and remind you to dive rather than jump, then there is a 5-4-3-2-1 countdown and a gentle push. Judging by the videos, my dive was reasonably graceful.

I wasn’t expecting so much bouncing and swinging around, but it was okay. When the swinging slows, you are told to grab onto the end of a pole being held up by people in a raft below, and they get you into the raft and help you take the harness off. Easy peasy!

The hardest bit was the long flight of steps back up to the viewing platform. I picked up my free tee-shirt and went out to a hero’s welcome. I have to say, it looks much worse than it feels. I’m so glad I’ve done it.

When all six of us had jumped, we drove on to Queenstwon, which will be our base until the end of the tour. Josh took those of us who had opted for it to pay for our 4WD LotR locations tour on Sunday, then we were free to wander and shop. Aarthi, Sarah and I stuck together and I lost my head to the extent of a gorgeous coffee table book full of photos and stories about LotR locations, and a Gandalf tee-shirt.

Enough.

12th March: Lake Pukaki and Pelennor Fields

 Another earlyish start. First stop, Lake Pukaki, to land and lakeshore owned by a total eccentric called Ian, who showed up in a black jacket and trousers with big white stars all over them, and cowboy boots. He proceeded to speak to us about his father’s experiences as a Spitfire pilot in WWII and (a very little) about the use of that part of the lakeside for the Laketown refugees sequence in the filming of The Battle of the Five Armies (3rd Hobbit film). Most peculiar chap.

Then we did some archery, which most of us (including me) were pretty hopeless at.

Then back on the coach to drive down to Twizel for the Pelennor Fields, which was great fun. It is an awesome setting, even if you have to imagine both Minas Tirith and the Mountains of Mordor. We did a re-enactment of the Ride of the Rohirrim, which was great fun. I sent you the video. And of Eowyn killing the Lord of the Nazgûl “I am no man !”

Then down through the Lindis Pass, which reminded me so much of the road that leads to Tal-y-Llyn. We reached Cromwell at around 5, and I’m planning a quiet evening in - the rest of the GF gang are going to a Mexican restaurant, which I don’t fancy.

Tomorrow is the bungee jump, then on to Queenstown, where we’ll be staying for the final three nights of the tour. I’ve discovered that Amarjeet fromout group will be on both the same long flights home. It will be nice to have someone to wait around with!

11th March: Edoras

 This was the one day I was really worried about, as it is very much “weather dependent”. But oh my! The weather was perfect (again) sunny and clear and the views were simply amazing.

And it was such fun! All the women got the chance to pose I. The one size fits (or doesn’t fit) all Eowyn dress, and all of us could stand on the high point with flag and sword. Awesome! And I hadn’t realised it, but they used different part of the same general location (admittedly vast) to film the background to Helm’s Deep.

Later on, we stopped for afternoon tea (yummy ice cream) and I found two cute cuddly kiwis for Alexander and Roman. We also stopped briefly at Lake Pukaki for a wonderful view of Mount Cook, before arriving at the hotel at 5:30. 

Buffet dinner included and as usual, I sat with the GF gang Sarah and her friend Aarthi, and Hannah and her husband Sean. All American and all delightful.

Laketown refugees and Pelennor Fields tomorrow.

10th March: from Nelson to Christchurch

 A long day on the coach today. Too much sitting still and I didn’t think to put compression socks on, which means I now have elephant ankles. Elevation this evening.

But the day was not without bright spots… we did the much-heralded Middle-Earth on-coach quiz, and to my complete astonishment, I won! (Low bar - I got 18 questions right out of a possible 46; they were hard!)

We stopped for lunch and two bathroom breaks along the way, and also to view a seal colony - more than a hundred at a guess - sunning themselves on the rocks.

Tonight we’re at the Sudima Airport Hotel in Christchurch, and to my delight, my room has a sliding door to the outside, so no need to trek miles to vape.

Tomorrow: Edoras!!

9th March: Nelson - Helicopter Ride and The One Ring

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 There was a little bit of grumbling among those of us in the first helicopter ride group, at having to leave the hotel at 6:30 am. But not afterwards… we watched the sun come up on the way and it was awesome.

Mount Olympus - stunningly beautiful location, where they see the crebain from Dunland, and Gimli advises Gandalf to go through Moria, and Boromir is teaching Merry and Pippin to fight.

We returned to the hotel for a quick breakfast before visiting the workshop of Jens Hansen, the jeweller who crafted the One Ring. Lots of fabulous jewellery on sale including the ring I tried on (see photos) but way too expensive.

This afternoon I wandered back into the town centre with two of the group, then visited the Cathedral alone - it was strange to not have Maz with me. They had a Troyes labyrinth painted on the floor, so I walked it, which was lovely. Then I wandered back down the Main Street, where I stopped for a drink of juice with another two of the group, before picking up a delicious orange and almond slice from Dhara’s Caffe. I’m going to eat in the hotel, then have a relaxing evening in my room. Another early start tomorrow.

8th March: From North Island to South Island

 A long and gruelling day today. The ferry across the Cook Strait between North Island and South Island was running late, so that was one thing. However, it was nice to spend the crossing in Sarah and Aarthi’s good company. 

South Island has a very different feel to North Island - the part I’ve seen so far (from Picton to Nelson) is very like Austria. On the way to Nelson, where we’re staying for the next two nights, most of the group went kayaking on the Pelorus River, which just didn’t appeal to me. But more waiting around…

We finally reached the hotel in Nelson around 6 (having left the one in Wellington at 7 am). My room is nice, if quirky - it includes a large purple armchair, which is very comfortable, and both a desk and a bath, neither of which luxuries I had in Wellington. So I am content.

Early start tomorrow- I’ll be leaving the hotel at 6:30 am for a helicopter ride “south of Rivendell”.

7th March: Daniel Falconer and Zealandia

This morning, Daniel Falconer, one of Weta’s best concept artists on The Lord of the Rings, came to the hotel to talk to the group. He was just like he is in the DVDs, both informative and entertaining. Afterwards, there were art prints of his to buy, and he signed all of them (and also my map of Middle-Earth that I bought at Weta yesterday. And he doesn’t just sign things - he adds a little illustration - awesome!

After lunch, one of the group, a guy from Finland called Eero, and I went on a guided tour of Zealandia - a  fully fenced eco sanctuary dedicated to protecting rare New Zealand native species, particularly birds and reptiles. We saw many rare NZ birds, and also some tuatara - a rare lizard-like reptile.

Thee evening will be spent attempting to wrangle all my belongings into the suitcase and backpack… ahead of the ferry crossing to South Island tomorrow morning.

6th March: Wellington and Weta

 After breakfast we drove to Mount Victoria on the outskirts of Wellington to re-enact two moments from Fellowship of the Ring. Which was fun!

Then on to the Weta Cave - Weta Workshop’s retail outlet. Some people spent a small fortune and will need to buy extra suitcases to get it all back home, but I managed to keep to two items - the Elven brooch / pendant I had promised myself, and a lovely parchment map of Middle-Earth. 

Then we had lunch at the Roxy Theatre (owned and beautifully restored by Richard Taylor and Tania Rodger and Jamie Selkirk). Upstairs were Richard Taylor’s Oscar and some wonderful Thunderbirds models.

Our afternoon behind the scenes tour of Weta was fascinating and frustrating simultaneously. We were split into two groups, and my group did the tour first. The very informative guide showed us and let us handle all kinds of LotR artefacts, from weapons and armour to prosthetics. I saw Theoden’s and Aragorn’s armour, all the original hero swords, and Merry’s Rohirrim helmet. BUT we weren’t allowed to take any photos, because Weta don’t own the licences. I also saw a brilliant miniature of a city from Mortal Engines.

Then the two groups swapped and the tedium began. We were given the “marvellous opportunity” to paint some miniature figures (not LotR, just random figures like the ones David used to collect when he was little. Bor-ing. a) I am no good at it b) I’m simply not interested. Total Waste of an hour and a half. Am planning to deposit mine in the bin in the bedroom…

That’s ungracious! Most folk seemed to enjoy themselves. Just not me…

5th March Mount Doom, Mount Ruapehu and Gollum’s pool

 Another early start. We left Taupo at 8 and travelled up into the Tongariro National Park, where quite a bit of both LotR and Hobbit filming took place. We saw Mount Doom, Mount Ruapehu (slopes of Mordor and Emyn Muil and secret entrance to Erebor. Because the weather was so fine and clear (total rarity) we were able to see the Lonely Mountain in the distance - awesome!

Then we travelled on to the Mangawhero Falls, location of the sequence where Gollum goes fishing in a cold stream, and there was a chance for more cosplaying. I was one of the Sams.

After that, it was a long drive to the bottom of North Island. We arrived in Wellington around 6 pm, and will be staying here till Sunday morning. We visit the Weta Workshop tomorrow!!

4th March: Trollshaw Forest

 An early start - we left Rotorua at 8 am and travelled by coach for hours towards Piopio, the location of Trollshaw Forest (important location in the first The Hobbit movie. The tour was both informative and entertaining and the sun shone on us again - which I am  absolutely *not* taking for granted - the weather here is as unpredictable as Wales or Austria.

At the (inevitable) shop attached to the place, I spotted a rather beautiful letter opener in the form of Sting, so I treated myself.

Although the countryside of the North Island is very beautiful, it is very under-inhabited - isolated farms and widely-scattered little townships. I couldn’t help wondering how the farmers and their families access services like schools, doctors, hospitals, libraries… or even people like plumbers and electricians! I guess they have to be pretty self-reliant.

By the end of the day, having spent (far too) much of it on the coach [yeah, I know, what did I expect of a touring holiday] I am feeling a little like Sam Vimes in one of the Discworld books, complaining of MMBU (miles and miles of bloody Uberwald).

We eventually reached Taupo around 4:30, and I’m in another very posh room in the Taupo Lakeside Hilton. The bathroom has to be seen to be believed! It even has a balcony, so I can cape without having to go downstairs all the time. The lake is beautiful and is the largest inland lake in Australasia.

Emyn Muil and Mount Doom tomorrow.

3rd March Hobbiton in the Shire

 Today was beyond special (apart from the hours of coach travel, which were tedious). The countryside is beautiful  - reminded me a lot of our bit of Wales. We stopped off at a little place called Tinau for lunch, and Hannah’s gluten-free app found a lovely cafe called Enchanted Places, which seemed appropriate…

We dropped our cases at the very posh Novotel in Rotorua (my room is enormous and palatial) then backtracked to Matamata.

We arrived at Hobbiton mid-afternoon, and I burst into tears on the spot when Julie started playing the Fellowship theme in the coach. Oh my! Actually being in Hobbiton was beyond amazing - I was walking around with my hand on my heart and a huge grin on my face. It was a gorgeously sunny afternoon, as you’ve seen from the photos, which showed it at its best. Julie, the tour leader was wonderful at offering to record special moments on our phones - I have a video of running in Bilbo’s footsteps “I’m going on an adventure!”, picking up post from the Bag End mail box, and smoking Bilbo’s pipe (consciously channelling my father). Every hobbit hole was different and the level of detail was (as you might expect) superb.

One highlight for me was visiting on of two hobbit holes on Bagshot Row, which they’ve completely kitted out inside (which opened at the end of 2024). We were able to spend 15 minutes wandering from room to room, capturing all the wonderful details. Which is why there are so many photos. I’m so glad that Maz / Dad has offered to help me make a photo book when I get home, and that I’ll have these blogposts to remind me of the details. 

Then we had dinner in a pavilion behind The Green Dragon, followed by a lantern lit procession (shades of Hucklow, Becky and Arran) up to Bag End and the Party Field, before piling back into the coach and heading back to Rotorua, 

Honestly, it could not have been more wonderful!

2nd March: The Adventure Begins!

I slept really well (not surprisingly) after all the travelling. Then had a quiet and peaceful recovery day, reading The Two Towers and doing a bit of crochet. The buffet breakfast was delicious GF cereal and brownies, plus a selection of fresh fruit - I chose pear, apricot, pineapple, grapes, and (of course) kiwi fruit.

My ankles were still a bit swollen, so I decided to go for a walk. The hotel is in the middle of an industrial park which makes Brackmills look like a corner shop, but there were lots of trees to enjoy. And I felt Much Better afterwards.

We all (about 30 of us) had a welcome meal at 5:30 in a side room of the hotel. I bought some little bits & pieces, and collected my pre-ordered NZ greenstone heart, which is beautiful … and met some lovely people, including two American couples and a Sikh from Hounslow. Hannah and Sean (from Philadelphia) are good friends with a UU minister back home. And Hannah is also doing the bungee jump!

RCT  have given us each a full-colour brochure, which will be a nice souvenir. Off to Hobbiton tomorrow!

27th February - 1st March: I’m Going On An Adventure,

My adventure began after Maz very kindly dropped me off at Heathrow Airport on Friday evening. As usual, we had factored too much time in for delays, so I had a long wait. So I divided my time between reading The Fellowship of the Ring, and people-watching, which at Heathrow always reminds me of Love Actually.

Plane no.1, from London to Singapore, took off on time. I have never been on such an enormous plane - (an Airbus 380) ten seats wide with an upper deck too!

I was really lucky on this first leg - I was sharing a four-seat row with one other person, so there was room to spread out. Never having been on a long haul flight like this, I was fascinated to discover that a small pillow and a blanket are supplied for overnight flights - very civilised. Nor that at a certain point, the entire plane goes into sleep mode - as though the cabin crew were our parents, declaring “lights out”. I slept longer and better than I expected - and I now understand why David and Sarah and Becky and Arran use white noise to soothe the kids to sleep … the rumble of the plane’s engines did the same. And I was able to lie across two seats for part of the night.

After a 13 hour flight, which included two tasty and imaginative GF meals (!), I disembarked at Changi Airport. Which I was not impressed with - yes, it was clean and spacious and had a fabulous coffee shop which Maz would have loved, but I would have traded all that for significantly better signposting and even a shred of understanding of “gluten free” in the food outlets.

I found the Butterfly Garden, but assume they were all asleep. Here’s a Photo of some chrysalises for Sam.

Another long and tedious wait for flight no.2, from Changi to Auckland (10 hours this time, but it felt more like 20!) because a) the plane was full b) I was in the middle of a row of three, in spite of having asked for an aisle seat and c) we were seated below a loud and annoying air conditioner, so I got hardly any sleep.

The entrance to Auckland airport is very attractive (see photo below) but I was *not* impressed at having to queue for two hours (along with seemingly everyone else from several flights) in order to have my hiking boots inspected for cleanliness. Which is part of a new NZ government bio security drive, which I’m all in favour of, but it needs to be better organised and staffed.

The hotel room for tonight and tomorrow is huge and very nice. I had a soaky  bath as soon as I’d checked in, and feel a bit more human. The milk for the tea and coffee  ones in dinky little glass bottles….

It’s now 7:35 pm on Sunday 1st March. Not sure when you’ll get this, but I love you all heaps. The interesting blogposts will start tomorrow evening. Xxxx

Looking in the Mirror

The second of Frederick Buechner's Lenten questions is a bit of an odd one: "When you look at your face in the mirror, what do you see in it that you most like, and what do you see in it that you most deplore?"

I guess the answer to the first question is smiley eyes. The answer to the second is, I suppose, my somewhat irregular nose (the product of years of thumb-sucking as a child). But to be honest, I don't spend very much time either looking in the mirror or worrying about what other people think when they look at me. I am too old and (blessedly) at peace with myself to bother. Apart from a regular skin care regime, what you see is what you get.

If I had been answering this question twenty years ago, I would have been obsessing about minor imperfections. These days, not so much. I am well aware that I am a little overweight, and that I could do with getting more exercise (and eating less chocolate) but I cannot bring myself to care that much. So long as my body does what I ask of her, and is not in pain, all is well. I am so thankful that she is healthy.

I am me - a "unique, precious, child of God" to quote the Quakers, wife of 42+ years in a strong and happy marriage, mother of two wonderful grown-up children, and Nannie to three gorgeous boys. I am also a Unitarian minister and a published author, a crocheter and a stitcher. Yesterday was my 66th birthday. I retired from employment as District Minister of the Midland Unitarian Association, and the future stretches out in front of me.  In comparison to all that glory and good fortune, what do my looks matter?

Is there a God?

The subject for my online service on 15th February was Lent as A Spiritual Journey. One of the readings I chose was by the Christian theologian, Frederick Buechner. In it, he asked a series of  questions, which I'm going to reflect on as my Lenten practice for this year. They came from his book, Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter's Dictionary, which is rather wonderful. So I'm going to attempt to answer one each week (except for the first two weeks in March, when I'm in New Zealand  and will have no computer with me).

The first question is: "If you had to bet everything you have on whether there is a God or whether there isn't, which side would get your money and why?"

The short answer to this is yes, I do believe there is a God, because I have experienced His/Her presence. But my relationship with God has evolved over the years. As a child, the primary school I attended observed the cycle of the Christian year, and held an assembly every morning, so I learned all the lovely C of E hymns. I also owned a very nice Children's Bible, so I knew many of the stories from both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament.

Did I have a relationship with God in those days? Well, I took His existence for granted, and accepted the stories I read fairly uncritically. It wasn't something I thought about much.

After running into issues with Christianity in my teens, and having discovered Unitarianism, the God I believe in was loving, and omnipotent, but strangely powerless (I know, that is a paradox). I believe with Mother Teresa that we are God's hands in the world, and that He/She can only work through us. I do trust that God exists, and believe with the Quakers that there is "that of God in everyone", and that each of us is "unique, precious, a child of God." And that therefore it is up to us to treat every human being with compassion and respect. Even those we dislike and distrust.

In 2012, my husband and I did a touring holiday in France, visiting several of the marvellous Gothic cathedrals. When we visited Chartres Cathedral, I had a close encounter with God, while walking its labyrinth. I had walked labyrinths before, mindfully, and had found it an uplifting experience. The experience I had at Chartres was of another quality altogether.

When I first entered the labyrinth, I realised that the people in front of me were moving really slowly, stopping every few paces to pray or meditate. My initial reaction was to overtake them and carry on, but my guardian angel nudged me at the right moment, and I decided to go with the flow and see what happened.

Gradually, as I walked, slowly, mindfully, my mindset changed, and I began to pray: firstly, the Metabhavna, the Buddhist prayer of loving kindness, but then, the Lord's Prayer, over and over again, in whole or in part. I offered my prayer up to the heavens, in the sure and certain knowledge that *Someone* was listening. It was the closest I had ever come to a direct experience of God, and I don't think I will ever forget it. It took me 90 minutes to reach the centre of the labyrinth and I simply wasn't conscious of the passage of time.

In the years since then, I have come to believe that God is Love, and that Love is at the centre of everything. And that God in the form of the Spirit is active and present in our lives, if we are only wide awake enough to sense it. I believe that we are all made in the divine image and that God has been waiting for the unique, divine incarnation that is each of us since the beginning of the universe, and that He/She sees each of us as perfect and whole and beautiful, exactly as we are. And that this perfect, whole, beautiful being lives inside each of us and is loved by God, and has been loved by God since we were born, and that there is nothing we can do (however good or bad) that will change that.

Today, I have an active awareness of God, the Sacred, in the natural world, in my everyday life. I have come to recognise that God is everywhere: in the world, and in me. And that is good.

People Are So Lovely

It's easy to look around the world and think that people (on the whole) aren't very nice. In some cases this may be an understatement (thinking of certain political leaders, warmongers, the super-rich who fleece the poor, and so on).

Yet, it has been my experience, throughout my life, and particularly in the last few weeks. that most people really are so lovely. Or perhaps I am just lucky in my friends and colleagues.... Perhaps I should explain: since 4th January, I have been visiting all the congregations of the Midland Unitarian Association, to say my farewells, as I am retiring from the posts of both District Secretary and District Minister at the end of February. And I have been overwhelmed by the kindness and good wishes and flowers I have received. None of which I was expecting.

Then, for the last couple of days, I have been on retreat with my ministerial covenant group, which I helped to found, back in 2013. We had our usual time of deep sharing and togetherness, and I am going to miss it heaps. But it is a group for working ministers, so it is time for me to step back and let them go. They, too, presented me with a beautiful rose and a lovely card - so very kind.

All the loveliness of the past few weeks has filled my heart with gratitude and also sadness, that I am no longer going to be in community with these people. Or at least, not for the next twelve months. And if I do begin to lead worship around the District again after that, it will not be the same. I will be an ordinary visiting preacher, not District Minister. And part of me will miss it - will always miss it, I think.

Yet I know this is the right time for me to retire - my 66th birthday is at the end of February, and I have so much else I want to do in my life - more time with my husband, children and grandchildren; more time to write and stitch and crochet. And I will not be disengaging from Unitarianism altogether - I will still be involved with our local Ministers' Meeting, with the Peace Fellowship, with Northampton Unitarians and as a tutor of the Worship Studies Course and a regular columnist for The Inquirer. 

But there will be fewer deadlines, fewer Zoom meetings, more time to do what I love, with the people I love. And that is good.

What makes you come alive?

The Unitarians are currently running sessions for people curious about Unitarianism. The next course begins tomorrow (7th February) and the link is on The Unitarians page on Facebook. It reads, 

"Tired of feeling alone in a world that doesn't make sense? Looking for people who believe there's a better way? You're not the only one. So many of us are searching for something real; for meaning, for connection, for a way of living that doesn't feel incomplete. For people who see what you see and refuse to accept that consumerism and individualism are enough. NUBI sessions are for anyone curious about the Unitarian movement. We gather monthly with people asking the same questions you're asking. People looking to come alive again, together."

And they used this image, words by Howard Thurman, to catch the eye:

"Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

The answer will be different for each of us, because we are all unique human beings, who are the sum of our genes, our upbringing and our life experiences. If we take the time to really think about the answers to the question, "what makes you come alive?", it is quite possible that we may be disheartened by the (relatively) small amount of time we spend doing these things, rather than passing the time doing things which don't fulfil us. Often, of course, these activities still have to be done - to earn a living, to keep our home clean and tidy, for example. But sometimes, we choose (or rather, absently opt) to waste our precious "free" time with activities which deaden us, rather than making us come alive. Such as scrolling through our Facebook or Instagram or X feeds, disappearing down other people's rabbit holes.

These are the activities which make me, Sue Woolley, come alive. When I am engaged in them, I call it sacred living. Living with intention and awareness.

• spending time with the people I love.
• walking in the natural world, surrounded by the beauties of creation.
• writing - fiction, poetry, blogposts, addresses.
• reading - both fiction and non-fiction.
• crafting - crochet and cross-stitch.

What are yours?