That'll Preach!

The process of finding inspiration for a worship service in the Unitarian tradition is a complex one. We don't have a lectionary to follow, and every service has to be put together from scratch. Some are time-sensitive (for Christmas, Easter, Harvest, Remembrance Sunday, the Wheel of the Year for example) but most are "ordinary" services, dependent on the inspiration found by the worship leader.

This inspiration may come from many places - a snippet of news, an overheard conversation, a few lines (or an entire section) from a book or a poem or a blogpost.  Or something on social media may get our creative juices flowing. The very title of this blogpost comes from a book I have read and re-read: Sensible Shoes by Sharon Garlough Brown. One of the four main characters, Hannah, is a minister, and if something unusual happens, her first thought is, "That'll preach."

It is a comment I have taken for my own, and it happened again yesterday. I was driving back down the M6, returning from a gorgeous few days in the Lake District with my best friend, and listening (as is my wont) to a talking book. The "book" in this instance was a series of talks given by Richard Rohr on The Sermon on the Mount, from the Gospel of Matthew. In the sixth session (it is a long journey there and back) he mentioned the three great temptations with which the devil tempted Jesus during his 40 days in the wilderness, and summarised them as Prestige, Power, and Possessions. 

It occurred to me that the desire for one (or a combination of) these three leads to almost every war, every act of violence... That'll Preach. 

The Joy of Being a Creator

There is nothing quite like the joy of creating something new - something which has never existed before, until you created it. 

Yesterday, I collected my SAGA sampler, which has taken almost every moment of my spare time for the past nine months, from the Framing Centre in Northampton. It cost me an arm and a leg to get it framed, but it was so worth it. It is now in pride of place above the mantelpiece.

The particular joy of this creation was choosing the colours. The 25 page chart from Long Dog Samplers is all in black and white, and many LDS stitchers do it in all one colour. But just before I began it, someone posted a full-colour version on the LDS Facebook page, and I thought, "Wow! I could do that." I chose a gorgeous rich mid-green (DMC 470) for the arches, made a policy decision to eschew blues and purples, and to make all (or most) of the animals, birds and insects look as real as possible. I began at the top left corner and worked across, then down, choosing the colours as I went. Luckily for me, I have an extensive stash of silks, both inherited (from my mother and mother-in-law) and my own. I also borrowed some from my best friend. 

I find all modes of creation similarly rewarding - whether it is choosing particular words for a scene, a poem, a sermon, a blogpost, or yarn for a crochet project. The uniquely satisfying combination of using brain, heart and hands to make something never before seen. 

I believe that every human being has the capacity to be creative and there are so many outlets for our creativity. Maybe textile art and words are not your bag - how about cooking, woodworking, pottery, art of all kinds... it is the chance to step out of our everyday lives and make something beautiful, purely for its own sake. I find it deeply spiritual.

I'm Back

After an unprecedented break of two months from blogging, I'm back. It's been an odd sort of Summer - I've been obsessed with completing a very complicated cross-stitch sampler, which I started just before Christmas, working on it in every spare moment, and (to be fair) thoroughly enjoying it. The end is now in sight. Which has meant that I've been neglecting nearly all the other areas of my life, to my own detriment.

the 4/5s mark

I have been uneasily aware that letting go of my normal routine - writing, walking, blogging - has not been good for me. Last night, I began to read Brené Brown's new book, Strong Ground, and her opening anecdote reminded me that you have to work on your core to stay strong and grounded. 

I have not been working on my core - not physically, not emotionally, not spiritually. I now realise that I need to recalibrate my activities, get myself back into balance. So this post is a pledge, that I'm going to blog every Friday or Saturday, walk or do some other exercise every day, and write every day (rather than only doing the minimum I need to do to fulfil my obligations). My poor Work In Progress has been languishing on my laptop for more than a month, untouched. I hope it is still there when I return to it, tomorrow.

I know it's not going to be easy, this recalibration. But I know that it will be so good for me, in every way. I'm going to re-read Gretchen Rubin's book Better Than Before, which is about forming good habits and letting go of bad ones. 

I know that the next days and weeks are going to be tough. If you are a praying kind of person, please pray for me.

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!