Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Purple headed Gremlin

I have a manuscript to finish and I am now seriously into negative time completing it.  Detention and one hundred lines.  No one is pressuring me - and that's half the problem - I am lousy without a do or die deadline!

The summer stretches ahead with a mixture of folk using The Sanctuary Retreat Space here at Alturlie Point and I have a diary full of activities and little hope of settling down to the concerted effort I need to put in.  Referrals come and go and others join us as family and friends.  Some we support and journey with for a while - others are here and we may never really know why.  Whatever, we try to operate at a level of hospitality and at times extreme discretion so that the needs of those in residence are met.  We are very flexible in our understanding of an extended household or family - and for some who come it is important they feel a sense of belonging.

We had planned a trip to the Black Isle Show this afternoon - but things are backed up - and I need to get on (boring).

More assignments to mark.  I feel in good form though as I have really enjoyed double-marking these essays as the assignment task is inventive and the tutor - imaginative and committed to the students' learning.  Once these are done I must print out various items for a meeting tomorrow in Oban and get on with some report-writing.  Still all valuable and rewarding work - but I MUST get the novel finished too!

Feel great too after a hair cut at lunchtime today.  Short, feminist and with my usual hint of purple - I am much more myself - a morbidly obese Gremlin with attitude.  My stylist is a young woman with genuine ability and a smashing chair-side manner.  I ended up in a fit of giggles having prattled on for some minutes about a new film release called Shampoo.  Eventually she located it much more correctly as Hairspray - and I was away - I just couldn't stop laughing.  Typical.  We both agreed the received wisdom was that it is worth seeing and deals sensitively with issues concerned with diversity and difference.  Her advice was that my son went to see Simpsons: The Movie while I watched Hairspray.   Wise woman - my stylist.  After much snipping and puffing - she added the purple dye in two spots instead of the usual one.  Inspired.  Fun.  Just right.  I love her willingness to delight in the playful and mildly incongruous.  It's very liberating and encouraging.  She resisted commenting on the t-shirt I was wearing "I have issues"!!!!  Enough said!

Needs and Diversity

One of our guests has left a book of reminiscences published about his memories of his home area.  I had a good look through, as you do, while the eggs hard-boiled for the lunchtime sandwiches. 

It is amazing and awe-inspiring the extraordinary diversity of human being; how we interpret our experiences and make sense of our stories; how we intersect with others and in turn, attempt, at some level to make sense of others - what motivates; what another's dreams are made of. 

We all have our different preferences and preoccupations and so much is determined by the life choices we are offered - and I guess those we engineer.  Fascinating the premises on which we interact and place our understanding of our identity and purpose in life. 

We have made a commitment to a religious life; others to the pusuit of power or influence; some to simply not being disturbed too much.  I can see great benefits in all approaches - and the tapestry of life would be poorer without the subtlety of texture and nuance that the differences cause when they are entwined and blended.

We are blessed with fantastic support these days for our son who has special needs.  As I sat in a meeting this afternoon to update and review, I wished there was a way to just quite simply say a heartfelt thank you to the two people who now hold this responsibility for care - and who seem deeply committed to seeing our son realise his fullest potential.  There is much to celebrate as our son's life chances have now improved dramatically with the continuing provision of appropriate schooling.  I did say we were fully paid up members of their fan clubs - but somehow that really does lack gravitas.  These guys are slowly healing us and giving us life.

PMT and a sense of humour deficit

There are days when being even remotely charitable is an effort.  Today I could pass for a cross between Voldemort and Genghis - much maligned I gather after watching a recent documentary.  Bad hair day doesn't touch it.  This is Premenstrual multiplied by volcanic activity of an evacuate the area kind.  This is - "Who said anything about a warning?" mode - and "What part of No don't you understand?"  This is when Charity is a girl's name and Generosity is a hybrid rose. 

I am essentially ratty, restless and sporting a particularly bold, garish sense of humour deficit.

I was talking last week with someone who very much had my best interests at heart - and sensing an underlying rodent quality emerging in a normally ebullient individual, recommended an hour to myself each day.  My laughter was hollow - but partly because I knew just how wise and true the advice was.  Partly because I just didn't have the time! 

I have been burning the candle at both ends - and there has been less and less down time in recent weeks.  When this happens my sense of irritation grows palpably.  I resent the time everything takes and I tend to beat myself up with the efficiency of a trained assassin.  Time to take my time doing nothing seriously.

With guests needing to be settled and fed this evening in the retreat space - it won't be this evening - but I have a cunning plan.  I am hoping to escape into the caravan I use as an art studio.  I haven't done any serious painting since before Easter and this is undoubtedly one of the reasons why my spirit is doing a passable impression of a toddler's rusk.  I guess because I work with words all the time, painting has a special place in my heart as I find I genuinely think differently and relate to the task in ways that seem to clear my mind and invigorate me.  My plan is to sneak in there after morning chapel and re-emerge to a coffee and a natter with our guests an hour or so later.  Bliss.  I feel better just think about it.  Where's the hollow laughter now, bitter and twisted one?  Excess to requirements I think!

Our son has been home for the summer holidays for a week or so.  He is growing up fast and we are very committed to honouring that - but he is impulsive - so we are trying to keep our boundaries consistent.  It's amazing how quickly we get out of practice now he is away at school, at the whole business of parenting a special needs child.  As I write he is out in the garden with a huge, bright red hard hat on, ear defenders in place and is wielding a massive petrol driven strimmer- his first go before he helps out with his preferred occupation - mowing on the ride on mower called Ermentrude.  What else?  Like most thirteen year olds he struggles with the concept of helping out around the house - and with his added idiosyncracies grapples with the business of staying on task.  Oh, dear, the door has banged.  Shorter than even I anticipated.  He now thinks he may have repetitive straininjury.  The strimmer was a bit heavy.  I wonder aloud if that means he won't be able to use the computer to play his games?  I am reassured that it will help heal it.  Not.

(Just a hint of grummmph creeping back in!?)

Deep breaths and counting down from 300, 299, 298, 297...

Sun, sea and intuition

Delightfully mixed up day.  Although mostly focused around Theological Institute business, I travelled across the Highlands to a small village to visit a candidate for ministry.  After an excellent meeting, I was picked up by my partner and son and we went to a Perfume Workshop for lunch and a mooch round.  I was all set for aromatherapy oils and massage creams - but no, it was pretty much a fairly standard Highland eaterie and wee shop.  They all seem so similar - few rows of not always gifted artists' dabs; some smellies and scarves (why import from Italy - have we no notable local weavers?  Probably not); the inevitable luxury pots of mustard and chutney and a pricey restaurant.  The view, on one of the few beautiful days this summer was breathtaking.  We sat outside with Coronation Chicken open sandwiches which required a second mortgage and were lost in the shear beauty that surrounded us.  The light played on the water in an incredible way.  It truly did glitter.  Tiny, ever changing jewels, shimmering and quivering.

Jessie (Newfoundland) and Rainbow (Guide Dog) kept us company at our picnic table.  Jessie seemed to yearn for the water - and I will let her swim tomorrow on the shore if the weather holds.

Stunning drive home through more breath-taking scenery.

Back to work with a bump.  Calls and reports.  Supper to cook and shopping to unpack!  Still feel as though I have been on holiday today.

Themes around for me today:

Enjoy the moment.

Delight in what is given.

However hard - stay authentic - be what you are and don't try and be what people would like you to be.  It's a much harder life in the long run.

Never judge a person on what you have heard; talk to them and much, much more important listen.  Have the courage to connect.

Use your intuition and don't give people the benefit of the doubt when you know they aren't for real deep in your heart.  Authenticity is about recognising and owning your insights not just your actions.

Old friends who encourage and engage are worth their weight in gold.

Old School Friend, Kindness and Anal Glands

Brilliant to intersect briefly with an old school friend today - we are spending time together this summer - and we are going to a gig at Nairn Jazz Festival - both families.  Excellent.  Good to have a wee blether and prepare for her and her family's trip North.  It's thelittle things that count and I am excited to see her and her husband again - and meet their daughter.

A wonderful poem arrived today from a friend from my under-graduate days who now lives in the States.  I have been blessed with attentiveness:

  Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye, from her book, The Words Under the Words

The sentiments expressed touched me deeply.

Less work achieved today than I would have hoped, but I enjoyed a trip to our local vet as it was a chance to touchbase with people who are important and precious to us as a family.  Jessie, our Newfoundland is suffering with her skin and is to go and be shaved and shampooed.  Vet's orders!  I suppose she will look like a feminist dog after this - and take after her human mum in this respect!  Maybe she should have a touch of purple hair dye too - and we can look like a related pair of Gremlins after the transformation!!!  Jo - our rescue collie is older than expected we heard today - thought now to be about 8 instead of the 5 we have been taking him for!  He has had blood tests.  Mungo - our in your face collie x, had his anal glads expelled and I learnt how to do it!  The latex glove nearly set me off - but it was actually quite interesting once you thought about the mechnics of it!  Poor lamb - the indignity of the practice with mum rather than the much more skilled vet!  Still, he got his own back - a projectile spray over my hair, glasses and left shoulder.  Just as well we came home by car - I would have been trailed half way around the Highlands if I had walked by a pack of dogs! 

Shower.  Hair wash.  I am forgiven.  Mungo is fast asleep with his head keeping my feet warm.  If only it was this easy to let go, forgive and experience restoration within our human relationships!

A Lack of Motivation

Languishing in bed with dogs squiggled into the gaps, the door open onto the decking hinting at a grey, benign day - unlike much of the UK and I can't help but count my blessings.

Reality is challenged by a peak - actually a long, fascinated glare - at Big Brother 8.  Some of the people sound just like they have uploaded a combination of Little Britain and Cathering Tate.  Both fantastic comedy shows - but surely intended to be a satirical/ironic take on reality with the volume turned up a little to emphasise the point, rather than a window into the souls of individuals?  A case of reality immitating art, I suspect.

I am wondering how much longer the Big Brother format will run?  It feels a bit tired to me - or maybe I am getting old.

Dido our Golden Retriever is keeping me company as I type because she has sussed I have some dog treats in my pocket - normally she is snoozing wherever she feels comfiest - my mum's study bedroom is her favourite spot.  They are a similar age and appreciate their comforts.  Dido makes herself at home in the warm with the occasional cuddle and the pleasant and constant hope of one of Nana's biscuits.

I must get on before I decide to curl up and watch DVDs with a duvet and a large mug of chocolate.  Dido is a profoundly sensible dog!!!! 

I can.  I will.  I must.  No, really.  I should.  No.  I will... Work - well for a bit anyway.

Certainty, Holidays and Adopting Ferrets

I am very envious of people who know; deep at their core; individuals who have the strongest, driven sense of purpose and are never plagued with significant self-doubt.  I am impressed, but at the same time slightly disconcerted.  I sometimes intuit that I am listening to half a person and not the whole integrated being when I hear them at their most energised.  Then I temper this with rationality and tell myself I am being bitter and twisted just because I do not share that rooted sense of certainty.  That's my lame excuse of an introduction to the growing sense of vocation I am feeling and a nod of recognition at the sneaking fear that my growing sense of the way forward for me might make me a wee bit driven and blinkered too. 

I am a bit spooked - and yet utterly thrilled.  I am on the thaw; more positively - on a slow burn to simmer.  But I am by temperament and intellect a doubter and I take time to warm up about ideas and opportunities.  People are a much more immediate and sure-footed encounter!

A week or so ago ideas about places, people and possibilities were buzzing around me like a wrongly requisitioned spell in Harry Potter (my fault, I am disinclined to read product manuals before I fiddle). 

A house with extraordinary potential has appeared on the market in Lochgoilhead - the home village of Alan Johnstone's parents.  I have been sneaking a sureptitious peak at a charge which has recently advertised (they deserve someone who will not only love them and nurture them - but give them 100% in pastoral and person-centred ministry, I would be looking over my shoulder I am ashamed to admit).  And I was exploring in greater detail - what is community going to look like practically.

Part of the reason why I take a while to become enthusiastic about potentially transforming moments is that I am highly intuitive.  This is a tremendous gift and a huge pain at the same time.  When exciting new prospects occur they often feel to me as though I can see multifarious possibilities simultaneously within a split second of engaging with the prospect.  Rather like a cascading firework in 3D.  The pain about intuition is that he is a playful lover and unless he is earthed in prayer, experience and significant rational consideration - he can take me into areas where angels would fear to ...

So I have learnt to stay open to possibilities, but not so open that I am manipulated or distracted into areas that will be counterproductive, personally or vocationally.  My underlying belief is that I am called to love my neighbour as myself.  If I am not taking my needs seriously, there is a danger I will be exploitative of others as I find ways to get my neediness met inappropriately.  The first sign I am doing this is when I become impulsive...  It doesn't work all the time - I'm human - but it is a valuable benchmark especially when possibilities are literally whistling through the air!

What I have done over the last week is to use some spare time to review my giftedness and future aspirations in silence and prayer.  Your will not mine be done - but spell it out Divine One - I am not in the most God-centred, facilitating the Almighty mood.  Shout.   

I have placed each possibility that has been presented to me into the jigsaw of life on the terms that I currently understand it.  I have found this a profoundly loving thing to do as it has encouraged me to think equally about how the outworking of an invitation will impact on me (practically and emotionally) and on those I will encounter in the possible futures.

I have recognised:

*    Community is first and foremost founded on the vision we are evolving, but it is being turned into praxis by my partner and by myself.  If our needs are met, so it will become attractive to others.  I have a suspicion that there is wisdom in appreciating that many will help evolve the idea of community and fine tune it, but few of those currently in dialogue, will ultimately be in a position to test a vocation to live the reality.  I am very content with this although sad in one sense, but it does underline the organic nature of process.  It also reflects the fact that whatever we do - some will feel it isn't for them.

*   We have a family joke which is - If you want to make God laugh tell her your plans!

Well, I did.  And the angels have danced and clapped - and now they are offering their own ways of being community - offering differing weights to the various components of community we have discussed and remain comfortable owning. 

I was excited to bursting point when I first thought it could be possible to slant community in particular ways - then I moved into the cerebral/rational.  The walls to protect the precious kernel of the original plan began to erect themselves about the possibilities.  I wasn't sure I wanted to share - not at the deepest level.  Risk the vision could be messed around with by association.  Get over it the angels cried.  I have.

What use is a visionary idea if it cannot be adapted and scrutinised by those who have fed and nurtured the egg and embryo - the Anglican Church?  Yes, a few of those in communtiy will be radical and will rifle feathers - but some will not.

What is the point of a community who claim they want to nurture, inspire and challenge the Church if they are not in some way prepared to be a full part of it?  Independence is a mixed blessing.  It can lead to a lack of accountability and even self-indulgence.

The angels are swaying - if they join hands and start singing Kum by yah - I am out of here!

My mum is a seriously engaged human being.  I want to go on holiday this summer en famille.  The timing isn't good for her - and I was grumpy in response.  Positively hurtful.  Easy to be Benedictine and see Christ in others and forget to see it in the woman who gave me life.

Yes I would like a holiday - but I would just as soon have some quality time with her and with the rest of the family.  With an extended family ranging in age between 13 and 83 this isn't that easy - but I reckon french cricket, picnics by the sea, trips to our favourite haunt - The Ceildh Place in Ullapool with a venison burger will be just fine.

Ferrets.

My partner took his grandchildren out to supper last night and discovered to our mutual delight they have ferrets, chickens and dogs now!  The ferrets have had kittens and he phoned last night to ask if we needed a couple.  I was tempted but my sense is that they pretty much have to stay caged unless you are handling them - and I think we can't claim we need ferrets.  The relief in his voice was unmistakable!!!  I would have called them Basil and Gregory or Hildegard and Withburga.  No ferrets.  The chicks appeal though - but where we are foxes are a huge issue.  Not sure how our two cats Cuthbert and Teazle will be around chickens.  Worst case scenario - unexpected organic roast - eeeeewh!  No, maybe not chickens just yet until we can think about a nice, big run.

That's life.

Australia, parents and 4X4's

We have friends visiting very soon from Australia.

I have known them all my life as they were contempories of my parents.  I am so looking forward to seeing them again, not least because I never knew my father as an adult, he died when I was in my late teens, and I very much look forward to hearing their memories of him - and of my mum - who lives with us.

In my mind, my Dad is a very vague figure but a powerful personality - if that makes any sense at all.  I have watched old Super 8 footage of him larking around and I don't really recognise him - so I think hearing more will be valuable.

We are trying to buy a car - for good, sound need reasons - but we have had to work hard to look out for ecological and ethical considerations.  At various points I have felt there has been a strong chance we would disappear up our own behinds with concerns over this and that - but I think we are on the way.  We desperately wanted to down-size from a Land Rover - but there is a reality check - 5 dogs, 2 cats, a rabbit - four human family members - all with varying special needs and occasional retreatants and friends staying with us mean that although this is desirable and commendable - it isn't very practical.  Location also plays it's part.  I need to get all over Scotland - and sometimes in foul weather and with alot of luggage - a lift is a luxury - but a so very much appreciated one when the alternative is trying to manage a guide dog, wheelie suitcase and rucksack through the transportation system!  It is not clever, ethical or green - but a 4 X 4 certainly speaks to our current needs.  I am disappointed - but at least clear why we need what we need - and I no longer have a sneaking suspicion that for now, we could be going for a different option.

Sixtieth Birthday Celebration

For G:

Sixty

Celebration of such a day as this

Is so much  more than a pat on the back

to a delightful, good fellow, well-met.

It is a chance to parcel up and neatly tie

a gift of friendship and delight

and present it

into your hand.

Addressed tentatively and thoughtfully

to a man who reminds me that life

is to be lived,

with lightness and joy;

with a cursory sniff at the salty air

of transforming hope and forgiveness.

Whilst unpredictable winds

buffet the waves

of changing circumstance and thoughts,

my gift is respectful surprise

to find some of

what I have grown to love

echoed in another's eyes.

A familiar gentleness of engagement

and generosity of heart;

A desire to find self

and playfully delight in all that can become and

has been.

I celebrate today that you

are you and give thanks for all you are

and long to be.

Milestones and Invitations

Thursday 29th March 2007

Frantically busy period both personally and professionally.  It's hard to know where to start a more reflective process. 

Personally, I have reached some milestones.  Little and Large. 

Recently I've been invited to explore possible new directions vocationally.  Over the years invitations have formed a really important part of my own discernment process - so I take invitations as seriously as I can - and try to hear the generous and good intentions behind the person or people doing the inviting.  I find it hard to hear compliments and easy to hear criticism - so the hardest part is hearing that others rate me and believe in me.  I am the sort of person who tends to hear a compliment and then turn round to see who they are really addressing and I am not always being self-depricating - I don't find it easy to own my power and best-self!  I sometimes think I am pretty useless at most things.  It's always a bit of a shock to me - when I see that in reality I am not.  I guess we all struggle on with this at some significant level.

I have spent some time in recent weeks preparing for Holy Week.  We are following the theme - Being as God would have us be.  The Stations of the Cross and meditations that accompany them seemed to create themselves - and went off for framing.  I am bursting to see the finished product - but the guy who runs the frame shop didn't deliver the finished product ths afternoon so I remain in eager anticipation.

We have guests in at The Sanctuary next week and so Holy Week will be shared.  This is a great privilege and blessing - and we have all sorts of activities planned from a Temperament Indicator workshop through to a showing of the film Jesus of Montreal to shared reflections and the creation of our Easter Garden.  There are always a thousand things to get ready for a house party - but somehow it all feels worth it.

I'm also excited that our son will be home for the Easter holidays tomorrow.  I am attempting to curb of natural exhuberence and trying not to think up too many fun things to do.  Given half a chance our son would probably settle down with his computer games, a steady supply of food and drink - and rarely see the lght of day!  Great to have down time - but we also try and have some up time - the chance to re-connect. 

As it turned out the vocational invitation was just that - and the possibilities that would have been interesting to explore just didn't materialise.  I guess as this dawned there was a period when I felt quite hurt and rejected - on the level with a child who hears there's a big birthday party being held by someone she thinks of as a friend and gradually realises that she isn't going to be invited.  This image worked for me.  I had to smile - the little child in me was a tiny bit slighted - but I think the grown-up was relieved, and disappointed too, but mostly content - at a much deeper level than I had anticipated or acknowledged.  One of the people I have shared the possible change of drection with described me as beng a bit Zen-like about the possibility - and that was true.  The things that attracted me to the opportunity were that I would enjoy doing more of the things I enjoy and care passionately about now.  There's a clue there about the nature of calling.  Ironically I don't think it was the change of direction that was attracting me so much as the chance to root; in community as well as in place.

I love where we have settled.  It's the sort of place that gets under your skin and settles your spirit.  I love the idea of expressing belonging as service withing the community.