A Refreshing Journey

 The 19th century German poet, Friedrich Hebbel tells us, "A journey is a drink from the source of life." 

In which case, I ought to be the most well-hyrdrated person I know, because most of last year and the first three months of this have been spent travelling around England and Wales, visiting Unitarian congregations as President of the General Assembly. I'm not sure how many thousand miles I have driven, but it is a lot. And the long journeys have mostly been refreshing, due to my habit of listening to audio books while I drive. This year I have listened to several Great Courses, some of which have provided good material for services, as well as His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas (the original recording with Richard Burton as First Voice) and other fiction titles. It has made all the journeying pleasant, and has meant that I haven't got stressed when I have been stuck in traffic.

Of course, I don't think that was what Hebbel meant! When we visit new places, experiencing them can open a door in our hearts and souls. I can think of several holidays I've taken with my husband which have had that effect. Notably, attending the Passion Play in Oberammergau in 1990, being breathless with wonder at the beauty of the Austrian Tyrol, visiting new cities and immersing ourselves in their culture and history (Paris, Amsterdam, Krakow, Prague, Nuremberg, Berlin, Dresden and Leipzig spring to mind), and one wonderful tour around the countryside surrounding Paris, visiting some glorious Gothic cathedrals. And this September, we plan to celebrate our Ruby Wedding anniversary by spending a week in Vienna and another in Salzburg. Perfect!

Each new place has nourished my mind, my heart and my soul. I have sensed the Spirit's presence everywhere, even when visitng places with terrible associations, like the Nuremberg Arena and the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau. I think that what Hebbel is saying is that if we journey to a new place with open heart and mind, we will be able to take in what it has to offer of wisdom and life - Life with a capital L. And witness to what has happened there, whether recently, or long centuries ago.

Which journeys have enabled you to drink from the source of life?

Step by Step

 The French moralist and essayist, Joseph Joubert, once wrote, "Completion is made up of little things." Interestingly, the German translation of the word "completion" is "die Vollendung", which may be translated as either "completion"or "perfection". Which to me are quite different things... it is possible to complete something by doing many "little things" but perfection is rarely attainable.

It is a well-known maxim that any journey starts with a single step. Which is often the most difficult one to make. Think about driving a car: it takes more engine power to move the car from stationary to moving, than it does to move it from slower to quicker. And, once we have taken that vital first step, subsequent steps somehow seem easier.

It can be both exciting and daunting to begin a new project. On the one hand, we are excited about the new idea that has seized our imagination and are full of enthusiasm to get on with it. On the other, if we make the mistake of looking up from what we are doing at that moment and see how very far we still have to go, we may become discouraged and wonder whether we will ever get there.

So perhaps it is best to concentrate only on the next step, whatever the next step might be - to walk an extra 500 steps today, or write a scene of the novel, or find some readings or prayers for a service (to use some common "next steps" from my own life). 

And yet, once we reach the last part of a project, we can be infused by an impatience to complete it. Which may mean that the last few "things" are scamped, rushed, not done with as much care as the rest. Which I believe is a mistake. It can be difficult to bring the same amount of concentration and dedication to each step as we did to the previous one (or hundred, or thousand) but if we are to attain a good completion, it is worth it.

And, if we are lucky, the prospect of a solid finish line may restore some lost enthusiasm. I can remember running the London Marathon in 2004. My running partner and I were struggling from miles 17 to 23, and wondered whether we would ever get there. But once we got near the end, I can remember how excited I felt and found the energy from somewhere for a final burst of speed to take me over the finish line.

Truly, any completion is built on many little things. Our job is to do each little thing as well as we can, so that when we reach the completion point, we can rest, knowing that we have given it our best.

First Steps

Last week, I had a profound spiritual experience, which is too precious and private to share here.

In the week since then, I have come to realise that I am taking the first tentative steps on a journey, that will take the rest of my life. With this has come the slow recognition that although my knowing has changed, all the rest of my life still has to catch up. In habits, in attitudes, I am still the same person I have always been, and it will be the work of a lifetime, with God's help, to get myself into alignment, into wholeness, into belonging.

A prayer for the journey:

Spirit of Love, without and within,
May I be aware of you as I make this journey.
Guide my steps,
That I may grow into this new life,
Governed by compassion, integrity and simplicity.
Help me to recognise that this journey
Will take all of my life
And that my steps will falter,
Doubts will come,
But that anything is possible with You.

Amen