Still Life

Final post

2010-08-03T15:42:00.002+01:00

After considering the matter for a long time, I now sadly acknowledge that the time has come to lay this blog down. I have not been well enough to blog here or on my Doodles blog since last December.

My faith is unshaken. It is so much a part of me that I could not imagine what my life would be like without it. But for now, my thoughts must remain private ones.

Thank you for reading and replying to my posts, and holding me in the Light. It means so much to me.

Here we go again

2009-12-15T15:10:00.001Z

Sorry, gentle reader - no entry at all last week and not much this week. I'm a bit under the weather again, but I'm sure it will pass. I'll be back after Christmas.

Have a good holiday, however you celebrate!

Thankful

2009-11-30T15:13:00.002Z

It's easy to forget to be thankful every day, and having a special day to say thanks - even if it isn't my own country's tradition - seems such a wonderful idea.

This year I am thankful for my faith, which permeates my whole life, even when I am feeling as though I am not being 'Quakerly'.

I am thankful for the new friends I have made, and for the old ones I have kept.

I am thankful, as always, for the roof over my head, the food on my table, the plumbing in my house, the health service, the electricity supply.....

I am thankful for my family, and that, despite the times when we thought we were going to lose family members, we are all still here again.

I am thankful for my broadening musical and literary taste, and that I have now discovered the beauty and strength of Tennyson, Arvo Part, Benjamin Britten, Philip Larkin and Henning Mankell.

I am thankful for the internet allowing me to socialise, worship, shop and stay independent in so many ways.

Happy - if belated - Thanksgiving.

Simple Living

2009-11-23T14:17:00.002Z

This article was brought to my attention a couple of days ago. Journalist Liz Jones, of the UK Daily Mail, attempted a week on unemployment benefits:

http://tinyurl.com/ybvgkwt

I was delighted that she seemed to get so much from the experiment, but astonished by her lifestyle prior to it. I can't imagine having that much debt on top of a mortgage.

If the economic problems help people realise how much they are spending on inessentials, then it will have been a good thing.

Explaining God

2009-11-16T13:17:00.003Z

I re-post this blog on three other websites, and from last week's entry I have had a number of responses, all asking me to clarify what I meant in my description of how I see God. I still don't have the mental energy for replying to each one individually, so I am putting my reply into this blog post, and I hope it will explain what I mean.

Firstly, I have for a long time been a kind of Unitarian. The way I understand the Trinity is that, just as I am simultaneously mother, daughter and friend, depending on who I am interacting with, so God is simultaneously Father, Son and Comforter in one Being.

I also believe that God is the ultimate Truth, beyond and above time. Whenever someone finds Truth in their hearts and minds, that Truth is of God. That person might say the Truth has been given to them by any one of a number of names - Yahweh, Allah, conscience, Inward Light, Jesus, Buddha, or a bolt from the blue - but Truth is Truth and is indivisible.

We all listen for Truth in our Meeting for Worship. In that context, I don't mind whether you say that you are listening to God, Mother Earth or the Flying Spaghetti Monster - your name for that Truth does not alter the fact of it being Truth.

Our names for whatever reveals the Truth to us are ultimately completely arbitrary, and depend on our upbringing, beliefs and world view. This is why I say that I believe everyone is listening to the Christian God - but if I were Jewish, I would probably believe that we are all ultimately listening to YHWH.

The point is, the names don't matter. They get in the way of our understanding that we are all listening to the one Truth. And this is why I say that Quaker worship is the best chance for peace between the world religions, and between believers and non-believers - because in silence, we are all listening to the same Truth, and we're not upsetting each other and causing rifts by using different names for that Truth.

This is the Truth as revealed to me, and I hope I have been faithful in my description of it.

Quaker Quest: Quaker Worship

2009-11-09T15:03:00.002Z

I thought it might be interesting for people to see what I said at Quaker Quest about Quaker Worship.

We three speakers had to speak twice during the evening, once on Faith and once on Practice - broadly, what we believe and what we do.

In the Faith section, I started by saying I love Quaker worship because it is unique. I came to Quakers because of the worship - I used to be an Anglican, and then a Methodist, and in both denominations I used to feel that I was just settling into the time for silent prayer when it would be time to sing another hymn.

Another reason I appreciate the Quaker way of worship is that I am rabbiting on to God all day in my head, and it gives me a chance to sit and listen for a change! I also explained that I don't mind what other people say they're listening to - God, Yahweh, Allah, the Earth, their own conscience - as I believe those are all names for the same thing : Truth. I believe that Truth comes from the Christian God, and, if pushed, I would say that all other believers (and non-believers) are listening to Him/Her too - they just have other names for Him/Her.

Because we are all listening together, with no words to cause divisions, Quaker worship brings people together in a way that no other type of worship can. We may not agree on the words to use in worship, but we can all listen together in silence. It can also be a very healing time for people who have had bad experiences in more traditional churches.

Later I spoke to the idea of the practice of Quaker worship, although to be honest my ideas were pretty well entwined between the two parts! I explained that a Meeting for Worship is not like a dentist's waiting room, with a whole load of disparate people sat in silence - there is a palpable air of expectancy and of a gathered community. I always get very excited when there is ministry, as you never know what is going to be said, and whether it will be pertinent to you, or even to the whole Meeting. I also explained about online Meetings for Worship at Quaker Faith and Fellowship, which no one else in my Meeting has experienced; and about the smaller MfW held at my home every month, and how it has a different atmosphere, more intimate than the weekly MfW at the Meeting House.

We had a lot of questions about how you know when you are supposed to give ministry, why we don't discuss ministry when it is given, and how to settle into the silence and prepare our hearts and minds. The room was about three quarters current members/attenders and one quarter new visitors, with between 40 and 50 attending in total. Everyone said they had got something from it, no matter how long they had been a Quaker - we so rarely discuss the finer points of our beliefs that it was interesting to hear what different people actually thought.

If your Meeting is considering running a Quaker Quest, I strongly recommend it. There is a certain amount of work in setting the course up, but it benefits everyone who attends (including the speakers!) so much, that it is well worth it.

What a month!!

2009-11-02T13:13:00.000Z

Well, October turned out to be the most stressful month I've had for ages. Unfortunately nice stress tires me out as much as nasty stress, so even the good stuff just made me more tired. It has been one of those times when everything that could happen, did happen - and I ended up not getting a proper afternoon rest till almost the end of the month (instead of almost every afternoon), which meant my night-time sleep was disturbed, too.

That meant I began having nightmares. Initially they were things like still being married to my alcoholic ex, but eventually they morphed into the standard scary monster nightmare. (One was that Daleks had invaded Earth - and banned knitting!!!! Terrifying....)

To give you an idea of what I mean, this all happened between October 1 and October 27:

1 theatre trip
1 trip to Quaker Quest - on the same day Richard was out all day,
travelling to Manchester and back to the funeral of one of his uni
housemates. It wasn't a good month for him, either.
4 visits from friends
3 visits from Richard's grandfather, who is very difficult to talk to
1 visit from both his grandparents
1 visit from Mum and my sister
3 visits from new carers
1 5-hour excursion to A&E at the eye hospital - I'm OK, so don't
worry, but apparently I'm starting to get cataracts :(
1 Quaker Meeting here
1 newsletter to write and send round, during which....
Our Broadband started falling over for hours at a time
1 failed delivery of necessary medical stuff
1 delivery of oxygen canisters
1 visit from Social Services
1 visit from a care company team leader
1 visit from the other care company's admin assistant (1.5 hours)
1 service of my oxygen machine
1 visit from the GP
2 visits from the District Nurse
1 blood test
1 flu jab (different day from the blood test)
1 visit from the Access Bus team to make sure my wheelchair will fit
on their minibus (then I can go shopping occasionally!)
....and then the clocks changed and completely mucked up my body clock, as usual....

As you see, it was a fun time :)

I'm not complaining one bit about the nice stuff - ever since I first got ill, I've had the view that nice stuff is worth recuperating from! But every day seemed to bring a fresh reason why I couldn't have a rest, and by the end of last weekend I was feeling quite desperate.

I'm happy to say that I have now had a week asleep, and I feel much better, so I hope to be a much better blogger again now.

Next week - what I actually said at Quaker Quest.

Excursions!

2009-10-06T17:02:00.000+01:00

I'm not blogging this week, for a very nice reason. I am recovering from a trip to the theatre last week - my first time out of the house for over a year!

As always, I never do things by halves: this week I am speaking at our Quaker Quest evening on Quaker Worship. I was so pleased to be asked, and I am really looking forward to it. I know I will be shattered afterwards, so I'm announcing now that there will be no blog entry next week either.

Accounts of my expeditions will be forthcoming as soon as I can write them :)

Music

2009-09-28T16:29:00.000+01:00

I listen to a lot of music, and I am quite eclectic in my tastes. I grew up on the Beatles and the Stones, followed by Bowie and Roxy Music. I have a good chunk of prog rock in my collection, especially the wonderful Pink Floyd. I think Jarvis Cocker (in and out of Pulp) is absolutely brilliant. I can sing along to most of the Great American Songbook, and I love all kinds of jazz. I can listen to anything, really, except rap, and drum & bass.

The thing I always stick with, however else my tastes may change, is baroque music - Bach, Vivaldi, Handel, Telemann, Corelli.... As a household we didn't listen to much classical music. Mum is a big Bing Crosby fan, and Dad was tone deaf. I can still remember the joy that came over me when I discovered Bach, on a second-hand record - 'Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring' and 'Sheep May Safely Graze'.

Music can lift me whatever my mood. I recently heard this on BBC Radio 3, and wanted to share it with you. I hope it lifts you, too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsQmIRS3gTc

Good news - of a kind

2009-09-21T18:25:00.000+01:00

I am feeling huge relief today. I received the results of my application for renewal of my disability benefits, for which I had the recent medical.

Last time I was awarded high rate mobility and high rate care (the top awards) for a period of two years. This has been the norm for the past ten years. This time I received the same award - for an indefinite period of time.

I was shaking so much I could hardly show Richard the letter - no more renewal forms (30 pages of tricky questions), and no more worry!

When the euphoria wore off a bit, I saw the other side of this. Indefinite means they don't expect me to improve substantially from where I am now. As I have lost weight, I have noticed a difference in my ability to breathe, and to walk - but although they feel like big differences to me, in the overall picture of my health, they are fairly insignificant. I've been ill so long now that I have lost my yardstick of what being well feels like, and sometimes a good day feels like more of a step forward than it really is.

Certainly the expression of shock on the doctor's face, when he came in to do the medical, should have said volumes to me. His first words were, after all, 'Well, I really don't know why they've sent me out to you - you're clearly very unwell.'

See, inside my head, I still feel like me. I'm so used to making accommodations for the things I can no longer do that I kid myself I feel no different from when I was working, studying, swimming, singing and acting, back before I got ill. Then I get a reminder like this - and it hits a little hard.

I don't believe in giving in, and I won't let this get me down. But maybe I should take a little more care to make sure that I don't get any worse.

Show us humanity

2009-09-14T13:40:00.000+01:00

There have been several programmes on BBC Radio recently about Tennyson, as this year is the 200th anniversary of his birth. In one, a modern soldier read part of 'The Charge of the Light Brigade'. He explained how well Tennyson captured the confusion of battle, and how he emphasised the bravery of the soldiers and the stupidity of the generals. The young man seemed very touched that someone outside the battle had cared enough about the disaster of it to commemorate it in verse. Paradoxically, it is only because of this poem that anyone apart from military historians knows the battle today.

Similarly, what would our images of World War I be without poets such as Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon and Edward Thomas? We would have the photographs, films and other archive materials, but nothing gets across the horror and the human tragedy of life in the trenches with the immediacy of the poetry.

Modern wars still seem to be about the ordinary soldiers taking the risks, while the generals stay well out of the firing line. We are sending children into battle, children who are fighting other children. We are bombarded with images and footage of war on TV, but we rarely hear from the individual soldiers about the horror of their daily experiences. The more film we see of explosions, and the less we hear from the combatants, the more modern warfare starts to resemble some huge video game.

We need people who remind everyone of the human cost and the barbarity of war. We need to be reminded that the little figures we see running on the news are individual people, with lives and thoughts - and emotions which are being crippled as much as their bodies are by the horror of their experiences.

A better day

2009-09-08T02:18:00.000+01:00

Things have slowly improved over the week, and now I feel just about my old self again. Part of the problem was that, the previous Saturday, I was putting together my Meeting's newsletter, to a deadline, and had as usual left it to the last minute. My computer went on a go-slow, and what should have been a happy couple of hours, cutting and pasting and popping in bits of clip art, turned into a six-hour slog.

By the time I switched off the computer I literally could not see straight. Any noise was painful, and I had trouble moving. I slept very badly, and the next day, although my hearing and vision were more normal, I was still very foggy-brained. I announced that my CD player was broken, because it was too quiet and wouldn't respond to the volume control - and realized on the following day that I had been turning up the volume with the radio tuning knob.....

I had to have a medical at the end of the week to assess my ongoing eligibility for disability benefits, and this bad turn did at least remind me what a fragile hold I have over my health. (The medical went very smoothly, by the way, although it also reminded me how ill I am, which was not so good!)

The whole episode has left me with two abiding thoughts: don't leave all the newsletter stuff till the last moment; and don't overdo it. Not cheerful, perhaps, but very necessary.

I Don't Like Mondays....

2009-08-31T14:25:00.000+01:00

My laptop has some major problems, plus all my symptoms have flared up. Not a good combination. Back next week, I hope.

Justice

2009-08-24T18:00:00.000+01:00

It was the monthly Meeting for Worship in my home yesterday. After we had shaken hands at the close, we began discussing the case of Abdelbaset Ali al-Megrahi, the 'Lockerbie bomber', who has just been returned to Libya on compassionate grounds due to his suffering from terminal cancer.

My F/friend Michelle brought the topic up. It has been much on her mind. She said the thing that kept coming back to her, among all the hurt and anger that his release had stirred up, was:

Revenge is not justice.

It is so difficult, when someone does something to harm us, to keep a clear head. Our immediate instinct is to hurt them in return. That may be a natural reaction, but we know that it is not the best outcome. We know, as Ghandi said, that 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.' Forgiveness is such a hard, hard thing to achieve sometimes, and there will be times when we feel we will never get there. But it is also healing, for the person harmed as much as, if not more than, the perpetrator.

We also need to remember that our forgiveness is not dependent on their remorse. We can forgive, and let go the hurt, and refuse to give them that power over us any more. Although I have never been involved in a tragedy such as Lockerbie, I can speak this truth from very unpleasant and dangerous personal experience.

Revenge does not heal; forgiveness does. I hope that all involved in this terrible tragedy will be able to find the truth of this for themselves, and not let it warp their whole lives.

Here we go again

2009-08-18T13:55:00.001+01:00

Yet again the humidity has beaten me, and I am unable to blog properly this week. The lack of sleep (and presence of unpleasant and disturbing dreams) is really starting to annoy me now!

I'm used to having quite a narrow life, but having it narrowed even more is very irritating....

Further thoughts....

2009-08-10T16:27:00.000+01:00

Last week's post generated some very interesting responses and reactions, not only online but in person.

One F/friend told me that she liked that fact that, when she comes to Meeting, she knows she is with people who have thought about their faith, and that our beliefs are not 'dumbed down', and I know just what she means. I think part of the reason for the current Quaker demographic is the tendency for people only to find us after some kind of spiritual search, after a lot of thought about what they believe, and how they wish to connect with the Light they seek. People don't attend Quaker Meetings because they are the nearest on a Sunday morning, or out of habit, or because it's 'the done thing', and they don't attend if they have never considered their own spirituality.

As a religious group, we do not tend to proselytise, and many members (including me) found that comforting when we first encountered the Society. I know that many members and attenders (again, including me) come from a negative experience of evangelical Christian experiences. So I am not suggesting we go out and tell every person in the world that Quakerism is the only true way - that would run completely counter to the idea of respecting the Light wherever it comes from, and would be totally inappropriate.

However, I believe strongly that Quakerism is an ideal way to foster ecumenism and interfaith dialogue - no matter what words we all use to speak of God, or whether we are atheists, we can still all listen together and seek the Light.

Another F/friend suggested that perhaps it might not matter if people do not have any kind of view on the existence or non-existence of a spiritual aspect to life, but I cannot bring myself to agree.

I can only say that I believe everyone should know about us, so that they can make an informed choice - and I believe that, if more people knew about us, our numbers would be rising and our Meetings growing.

Patrick Gale, a non-Quaker, summed up what I feel in his excellent novel about a Quaker family, Notes from an Exhibition:

"When they took her to her first Meeting for Worship, and she witnessed the potent combination of quiet contemplation with the lack of Christian paraphernalia she had long dismissed as nonsense, she found herself marvelling that Quakerism had not become the dominant world faith. It seemed so accessible, sane and adaptable."

Are UK Quakers elitist?

2009-08-03T15:50:00.000+01:00

Something is bugging me, and has been doing so for a while now. Are we (especially in Britain) elitist? I don't mean intentionally - quite the reverse! - but from what I read, see and hear from other Friends, UK Quakers are predominantly white, middle-aged, middle-class, educated and left-wing. I include myself in this - that describes me absolutely. But Quakerism has so much to offer everyone, and I am concerned that we're not getting the message out beyond our own circle.

We have Quaker Quest, which is excellent, and I would not think to criticise it. My Meeting is running one in the autumn at which I have been invited to speak, so it would be pretty hypocritical of me to pull it down. But are all the people who attend just more people like us? Are we just continuing the status quo by inviting our friends and colleagues? By all means, invite them - but how do we reach out to other people who may not even be aware that we exist?

I live in a small ex-mining village, with on odd mix of inhabitants. We have University lecturers and post-graduate students, because it's only a short commute to Durham, and we have a group of artists and writers. Then the majority of people come from families who have lived here since the village was founded in the 1870s, people who would be described by themselves as working class, often poorly educated and with complex family trees, as families intermarry and relationships can sometimes be of quite a short duration. Their lives usually revolve around the family, their often unskilled jobs, football for the men and shopping for the women, and drinking on a weekend. They expect to be able to buy pirate DVDs and dodgy cigarettes from their neighbours, and to settle arguments with their fists - without involving the police. Green concerns, ethical consumerism, politics of any kind don't engage them at all.

This is difficult to write about without sounding condescending, and I really don't want to. I am describing my neighbours and my carers, and they are good people. But they know nothing about Quakers, and are usually quite turned off from religion in any form. For example, one of my carers describes any churchgoer as 'all Goddy-Goddy' - with a hastily added, 'Not like you, I don't mean!' I think it's meant as a compliment...

I talk about Quakerism and my faith when the opportunity arises, so at least the people who know me know a little about it. But how do we reach out and explain, to people who are so dismissive of any kind of personal faith, that our way is different? Are they even looking for another way? And would they stay if they came to a Meeting, or would they feel out of place and unwanted?

I have no answers to any of these questions. But they worry me very deeply, so I am putting them out here to see whether they worry you too.

Strangers in a strange land

2009-07-27T16:16:00.000+01:00

I recently managed to find a copy of Jessamyn West's A Quaker Reader, a collection of all kinds of classic (and more unusual) Quaker texts by one of my favourite authors. I've been reading a lengthy extract from George Fox's Journal, and these few sentences struck me very forcibly:

...as I was walking upon the top of the bank there came several poor people, travellers, that I saw were in necessity; and they gave them nothing but said they were cheats. But when they were gone in to their breakfast it grieved me to see such hard-heartedness amongst professors [ie, believers] that I ran after the poor people a matter of a quarter of a mile and gave them some money.

I read this the day after putting together the newsletter for our Meeting, which included a very moving report from a Friend who works with asylum seekers in Sunderland, UK, and who is supported by our Meeting in this. Her report drew my attention to the release of a document prepared by the Quaker organisation, The Joseph Rowntree Charitable Trust.

"Still Destitute" brings attention to the appalling conditions experienced by people who have been denied asylum in the UK, often for entirely incorrect reasons, but who cannot be returned to their home countries. They are stranded here without the right to housing, education, work, benefits, healthcare or legal representation. Please read the report - it is shaming that such a situation should be allowed to build up in a country which is almost entirely populated by the offspring of asylum seekers, economic migrants and outsiders.

Regardless of what the far right may think, we are not a 'pure race'. If you are not of unmixed Celtic or Pictish blood, you are not an ethnic Briton. We are all mixtures of so many people - Angles, Saxons, Danes, Romans, Normans, Huguenot weavers, displaced persons from all over the world. Our very language shows that.

Asylum seekers are not 'other'. They are not 'cheats'. They are us. They are human. And they deserve to be treated as human.

We can't all work with asylum seekers, but we can all give financial support to those who do. And we can remind people who speak of them as though they were little more than animals that there, but for chance, go you, and me, and our families and friends.

Back soon

2009-07-20T19:03:00.001+01:00

The last couple of weeks have been very stressful for a variety of reasons, so I'm taking this week off from blogging. I'll be back next Monday, though!

I love it when a plan comes together

2009-07-13T16:25:00.000+01:00

I am a great believer in Romans 8:28 - "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God" (KJV - I usually use the NIV, but some phrases from my childhood with the KJV just stick!). Time and again I have found that apparently unpleasant things that I have experienced have helped me at a later date, or have enabled me to be empathetic (or even positively useful) to other people.

I've had two excellent examples of this today. My brother has been awarded a benefit he was entitled to, and one of my friends has had her benefits and level of assistance reassessed, in her favour. Both of them came to me for advice and support, and, because of all the pitfalls and problems I have experienced while trying to get the correct benefits and level of help for my disability, I was able to be really helpful to them, and enable them to get the help they need.

I've also been asked to speak on my experience of Quaker Worship at the Quaker Quest my Meeting is running this October. I may be speaking via webcam, but it's possible I may be able to get there in person :)

It's wonderful to find I can still help other people, when so much of my life is about having to accept help from others!

Also, many but not all of my readers will be aware of the One&Other project currently taking place in London. The artist Anthony Gormley is organising 100 days of public participation in art, by randomly selecting applicants for one-hour stints, 24 hours a day, on an empty plinth in Trafalgar Square. Between 5 and 6pm BST on July 16, the occupier of the plinth will be Rosemary Rimmer-Clay, a member of the QuakerQuaker networking site. She has written a poem about her participation here.

Worn down

2009-07-06T14:31:00.000+01:00

We have been experiencing a bit of a heatwave in the last few days. Predictably, this has had a bad effect on my health - the humidity makes my breathing worse, and poor sleep affects everything else. Thankfully, today we have had rain, and the temperatures are lower, so I hope to improve again.

It prompted a poem - not a happy or easy one, but a truthful one:

M.E.

bone-weary
jelly-jointed
fists of fire around my spine

my breath rasps

fear of falling
as my stick slips

the bed a cliff I cannot climb

one hour since I got up

A matter of understanding

2009-06-29T22:53:00.000+01:00

Well, that last post certainly prompted a lot of really useful and thought-provoking comment!

I think Alice hit it on the head when she said it was something I had to pray about with other Friends. Simply posting here about it helped me to face up to the problem, which I needed to do as I was reacting more and more strongly every time this person came to the house. Sitting with my feelings, talking to God about them, finally helped me to see what the underlying problem is. I am a great believer in talking therapy, which helped me a lot when I was in my late twenties, but it's the first time I've ever tried asking God to be the sounding board!

What I finally realised, after a lot of anger and painful honesty, is that I am angry at this person. The silly thing is the reason why I am angry. Far too many years ago, someone asked him to do something for them, which affected me. It wasn't a nasty thing, in fact it was a very kind one, but I didn't want it done. The person who asked is now dead, and I can't be angry at him, so I am angry at this poor chap who was simply doing what a friend asked him to do. I'm sorry to be so convoluted, but I don't want to give away any details in case the chap in question ever reads this. It's unlikely, but I wouldn't want him to be hurt.

Once I finally realised that, I found a lot of my anger and irritation simply left me. He came round soon after that, and I was quite happy to be pleasant and polite with no effort. It's as Alice said: "...when I learn to see people in the cross they don't bug me in the same way, it's like I get why they were bugging me and act on it". If you haven't read the comments on the last post, please do - everyone talks a great deal of sense and wisdom.

Richard's account of an irritating boy in a class had me laughing ruefully, especially: "I know he is not a bad person and wasn't intentionally being annoying. He just didn't know how not to be annoying." That is such a good description of this person, and it helped me enormously.

Thank you to everyone, and I will keep you posted on developments. I doubt if I have solved the whole problem yet!

Jan Lyn was kind enough to give me a blog award, which I have responded to on the Doodles blog. I had nothing to write about there this week, and plenty to write about here.

Finally, I would like to say a few words about Michael Jackson. I wasn't a fan, although I thought 'Thriller' was exceptional, and 'She's Out Of My Life' can reduce me to tears - but we are of an age, and he is a figure of whom I have always been aware. I find it very hypocritical of the media to be falling over themselves now, saying how wonderful he was, and calling him 'the King of Pop', when for the last few years they have had miles of copy from all the 'Wacko Jacko' stories.

I don't think he was allowed to be a child. There was always pressure on him, and I don't think that ever eased up. I suspect he had psychological problems that most of us cannot imagine, and I believe that he, like Britney Spears, could be the poster child for the unhealthiness of fame and wealth. I hope he has peace now.

Seeing that of God

2009-06-22T16:41:00.000+01:00

First, hello to Irene, who has recently found my blogs and read the archives - good to have you here! Check out some of the links below - there are so many good Quaker blogs out there.

Probably the most famous quotation from George Fox is his exhortation to Friends to 'walk cheerfully over the world, answering that of God in everyone'. It sounds so simple. Within our comfort zones, with other Friends/friends, it's easy to see the divine spark, to respond to it, to treat each other as children of God.

But what about the people who annoy us? I am asking for help with one particular person in my life. He's not a Friend, not even a friend, but someone I have known for a long time. The silly thing is that he has been very kind to me, throughout the time that I have known him - but I cannot hear him knock on the door without my teeth gritting and my hackles bristling. It doesn't make for easy encounters. I force myself to smile, to find things to say, to show an interest in what he tells me, but I greet his departure with enormous relief, and release of irritation.

Every time I see him, I feel guilty for disliking him. I know I am not alone in this - his family all find him intensely irritating, and he has no friends to speak of. He has a very pompous attitude, which tends to push people away, and he can be more than a bit of a smartass. But I know there is that of God in him. I can't see it, because I am too busy gritting my teeth, but I know it's there and I should respond to it.

I'm sure, too, that underneath his external posturing, and air of knowing everything, he is probably very sad and lonely. I want to be nice to him. I want to like him. I want to answer that of God in him. But I have no idea how to start.

Any ideas?

Standing up for simplicity

2009-06-15T14:21:00.000+01:00

I am finally feeling much better, due, I suspect, to my spending most of yesterday asleep!

No great and startling insights (no change there, then!), but another poem, prompted by some thoughts on consumerism and the pressure on young women.

shopping list

self-esteem
size 8

designer tag with free
handbag

stilting stilettos
to stiffen the spine

lippy
because I cannot be
without it

I believe one of the best things we can do for our children and young adult members is to instil in them a healthy disregard for advertising and consumerism. The pressure to conform is so strong in the young, and they need all our support to stand up against 'retail therapy', label hierarchy and body fascist cultures.

Hmm. Guess I did have something to say, after all.

My father

2009-06-08T14:30:00.000+01:00

I'm gradually improving at last, and have been very cheered in the past few days by finishing a few half-done projects - two novels (reading, not writing!), a sock, and a shawl. I love a sense of achievement, and I'm not fussy where it comes from!

It's getting near to Father's Day, so I'd like to share a poem I wrote about my late father. He was a huge influence on me - a successful businessman who kept his integrity. His funeral was packed out with people whom he had helped. He was very proud of all our achievements, and I know he would have been proud of me for not giving up when I got ill.

The eccentric lullaby I mention was Mad Carew, his party piece. His soft Hampshire accent made his recital a very soothing and soporific thing - but if we had listened to the words, we would have had screaming nightmares! I recorded his performance on tape once, and I am so glad that I have that still.

Dad

I fit beneath your arm

black Sunday suit

or fresh grass and hot cotton
clammy garden-sweated skin
beads on your lip
and your balding head

eccentric lullaby in burring purr
brings back your presence

sharp as grief

As promised....

2009-06-01T17:59:00.002+01:00

...another poem.

I have dusted off my writing CV, and submitted some to a publisher. We shall see...

carpenter

how did you deal with customers
bolshy
picky
slow to pay

were you a good apprentice
natural with lathe and plane

did you shudder
as you hammered in the nails

Turning a corner

2009-05-25T12:45:00.000+01:00

I'm tentatively increasing my activities again, although, as I periodically do, I have pruned everything ruthlessly. Some of the prunings will, I hope, be temporary ones.

Green Sunday has given me a good grounding in being able to ignore the pull of the laptop and the TV, and I have been reading/listening to books, knitting and allowing my system to heal. It seems to have started, at last, but progress is slow. I did break Green Sunday yesterday in order to blog on the Doodles blog - I had something to say, and thought I'd better say it before it went again! But I was quite happy to turn the laptop off again as soon as I had finished.

One quite unexpected thing that has happened in the last few days is that my writer's block seems to have gone. I had found it almost impossible to write any poems once I became ill. I've managed one or two, but nothing like my usual output. I have no idea why, since Thursday of last week, I have finished four, with another (which may be two, actually) still in progress, but I am not analysing it too hard in case it stops again!

Here is the first one.

housebound

no tottering on ice
or squeaking snow
no struggling through swirling rain

a close fireside and a cup of tea
just me

beyond the window
long slow summer evenings
shading into night

A quick hello

2009-05-18T01:54:00.000+01:00

Just a brief note to explain why there is no new post this week.

I'm having to take some time off from my online activities because I'm not doing too well. I think the shock of Mum being ill triggered a crash which I am still coping with. I seemed to be running on adrenaline for days, and then came down to earth with a bump!

I hope to be back next week.....

A passing hello

2009-05-11T14:50:00.000+01:00

It was my birthday yesterday (and a very happy one!),so I am a bit worn round the edges today.

Normal service will be resumed next week, when I have got over the shock of being so old!

The kindness of strangers

2009-05-04T13:38:00.000+01:00

My mother lives in sheltered housing in York, just around the corner from my sister. On April 27, just after my sister had gone on holiday, my mother was admitted to the Coronary Care Unit at York District Hospital with chest pains. Mum only allowed the hospital to tell us on the following day, when they established that it had been a small heart attack, and not the indigestion she had hoped it was.

My brother couldn't come up from Luton till Friday, and Mum refused to let my sister leave her holiday early. There was never any chance of my going down there. I was terribly upset, thinking that she would be alone with no family around her. Without much hope of anything coming from it, I posted messages in four UK groups on Ravelry, a large knitting and crochet website, asking if anyone in York could pop in and see her, and maybe take in some fruit.

I expected, at the most, a few kind messages saying that they hoped she was well again soon, and these I got. I also received six offers of practical help, four of them from total strangers.

The next day, Mum had a visit from one of these strangers, bringing fruit and soft drinks. She sat with Mum for half an hour, and then emailed me to say Mum was in the main ward now, and in good spirits. She refused to be reimbursed for the shopping she had done – 'It was the least I could do,' she wrote.

Another woman who worked in the hospital was all set to visit her that evening, and I had other people lined up for Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Luckily, Mum was discharged on Wednesday afternoon into the care of the warden at her sheltered housing, so I didn't have to call on them – but they were all prepared to go out of their way to visit a sick old lady, whom they had never met, just because they were asked to.

Another online friend suggested the chaplain, and another York Quakers. I did contact the chaplain, who sent a visitor to her, and I was about to contact York Meeting when she came home. (She knows a few of the Quakers in York, as my sister was housemistress for several years at Bootham.)

I was also inundated with kind messages of support, and enquiries about how Mum and I were doing, after she came home.

I would have expected this from my online friends, who are like penpals to me – we know so much about each other, and our families. But I didn't expect total strangers to be God to Mum and to me, and I was very humbled by the whole thing.

Missing in action

2009-04-27T16:04:00.000+01:00

Today I met someone I've known of for a long time, but had never been introduced to, and I had a rather odd experience. Before I was ill, we moved in somewhat similar circles, and so we know a lot of the same people. It was lovely to hear about all the old names - but I was shocked by how many had died. And several times my new friend made a comment like, 'Of course, she's nearly 80 now...', which shocked me almost as much as the news of the deaths.

My mother told me once that, when the Second World War ended, she somehow expected her friends who had been killed to come back - to get up off the floor at the end of the game - and it was a new grief to her to realise that they really had gone. I think this is what, unknowingly, I've been doing with my illness - thinking that, when I get well again, everything will go back to the way it was. But it won't. Already it has stolen nearly twelve years of my life. People have got old and died, people I really liked and never spent enough time with. They won't be coming back, even if one morning I wake up to a miraculous cure.

This is an extremely unsettling thought, and one with which I need to sit for a while.

Breaking the chains

2009-04-20T17:20:00.000+01:00

We had a small but mighty Meeting at my home yesterday. It was also lovely to be able to spend time having a proper talk with the people who came - something I don't get to do when it's a bigger gathering. I was very worried about how disruptive Merlin the Mad Kitten was going to be, but he calmed right down once the silence began, and was no bother at all. Perhaps he needs more silence, too!

I had quite a revelation about prayer this week, thanks to, of all things, a chain letter. I am notorious among my friends for destroying chain letters. I love a good meme as well as the next person, and probably more than some, but no email annoys me more than the one which promises good luck when you forward it, and bad luck when you don't. They get deleted straight away.

The most heinous, I feel, are the prayer emails. If you want to mail out a prayer, feel free - but don't attach it to a message that says bad things will happen if you don't pass it on. But just to show that God can use anything to get our attention, the prayer chain letter I received last week stopped me in my tracks with this line:

I know that when I can't pray, You listen to my heart.

Now, this should not be news to me. I have been praying, and reading about prayer, almost my whole life. But it popped up right in the middle of my mental wrangling about praying for people.

I got into a terrible tangle over praying for people once. I knew I had to stop my great long monologue about what I thought people needed, and just ask that God's will be done for them, and that was a good start. But I still felt like my prayers were just a shopping list of requests - 'Let Your will be done for this one, and that one, and, oh, don't forget the other one.'

I ended up drawing up a rota, so that everyone got prayed for at least once a week - but there were still some people that I wanted to include every day. Gradually, that list grew until all I was doing in my prayer time was reading out a register of names.

After a few months of this, I began dreading my prayer times, and so I stopped praying for other people altogether. I couldn't work out how to do it without being overwhelmed, and just stuck with, 'Let Your will be done for everyone'. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was better than a daily list, a weekly rota, and five different charity Prayer Diaries every morning.

Some time later I read a book which was instrumental in my coming to Quakerism. It was called Invitation to Solitude and Silence, by Ruth Barton, and it's sadly out of print (although the link takes you to Amazon.com's used and new listing). I wasn't too keen on the solitude - I had enough of that already - but the silent prayer really grabbed me.

That was when I began keeping silence, and I have carried on ever since. I love the idea that I need to shut up and listen, rather than telling God what I want done.

Recently, though, I have heard from several friends who are in difficult situations. I said to all of them what I always say - 'I'm thinking of you.' Well, some people don't like the idea of being prayed for, and I'm not comfortable yet with telling them that I will hold them in the Light.

Once again, I found myself with a problem. I would settle into silence, and this line of people would come trooping into my head, ready to be held in the Light. It got to be like a conveyor belt. One would pop up, I'd think about her, then another would take her place. I was starting just to go through a list of names again.

It was then that the chain letter arrived, and that phrase went 'ping!' in my brain like an egg-timer. I was looking at things from completely the wrong direction. It isn't just when I can't pray that God listens to my heart. It's when I'm not 'officially' praying. In other words, it's all the time.

I babble on to God all day in my head, about all kinds of things, and I think about my friends a lot. He knows full well what their problems are, and hears all day how concerned I am. That's not the purpose of the silence.

The purpose of the silence is for me to listen to Him.

I think I need to embroider this on a sampler.

Checking in

2009-04-13T16:47:00.000+01:00

Nothing really to say this week, just checking in to say hello!

Green Sunday was much easier yesterday, and I am definitely starting to incorporate what I've learned from it into the rest of my week. I continue to eat breakfast, read and keep silence before I even think of turning on the TV, which is a much more refreshing and grounding way to start the day.

I have also given myself permission not to finish books that are boring or silly. I have a terrible habit of feeling guilty if I don't finish a book once I start it, but life is too short to read bad books....

Green Sunday

2009-04-06T17:01:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was my first attempt at Green Sunday, and it worked wonderfully well. As I said in my last post, I couldn't go the whole way because of my oxygen machine, and the subsequent inadvisability of using candles - but it was a good start, and created a completely different feel to the day for me.

Usually over breakfast I automatically turn on the TV while I eat. I always have plenty to watch, because we have a satellite box that stores programmes. After the first one finishes, it's all too easy to start a second, especially if I am knitting and want entertainment while I do so.

Before I know it, it's lunchtime, and I'm feeling guilty for not having spent any time in silence.

After lunch, off to bed for rest and relaxation - and checking my emails, which usually leads to my mooching about online, doing nothing much, all afternoon. Suddenly it's dinnertime, and I feel guilty that I haven't rested properly, or done anything really constructive (except on Mondays, when I can at least congratulate myself on blogging!).

Over dinner, and for the rest of the evening, my son and I watch TV and chat, while I knit. At least, with the stored programmes, we can pause the programme to discuss things. Before we had that, it was a choice of missing part of the programme, or speaking - and we usually didn't speak.

At bedtime, the temptation to check emails again is very strong, and I suddenly realise I have spent an hour online and should be asleep. Not a very restful way to wind down.

Yesterday I ate my breakfast while watching the cats playing, and looking out of the window at the beautiful day. I enjoyed it much more for not eating like a robot. After breakfast, I read a little from my current 'spiritual book' (12 Quakers and Evil), and kept silence for 30 minutes or so. I felt relaxed and calm, and wide awake - I wasn't passively sitting in a tide of noise. It was a wonderful way to spend the morning.

I knitted till lunchtime, enjoying the quiet, and my own thoughts, and after lunch, went to bed.

It was very hard not to switch the laptop on. I even felt a little panicky. I cheated a bit and listened to some music, something I hadn't done for a long time. I quite often have music on as a background, but this was the first time for ages that I had intentionally sat down to listen.

I knitted while listening - knitting is my default activity, if you haven't twigged that by now! - until I felt my eyes closing, then settled for the nap I am supposed to have every couple of days. When I woke up, it was nearly dinnertime.

While I waited for Richard to cook dinner, I completed a crossword - another thing I love that I never seem to have time for any more. While we ate, Richard wanted the TV on, so we had an hour of TV. It seemed very loud and intrusive after my relaxing day.

After that, it was back to bed with my knitting and a cup of tea, and a talking book on my MP3 player. That was cheating too, as it gets charged from the mains - but I really enjoyed the quiet voice of the reader, and the images in my head.

I settled down to sleep about two hours earlier than normal, and slept like a hibernating bear.

I was actually a little apprehensive about doing this, but it worked better than I hoped, even though I cheated in a couple of places. (Richard is completely unimpressed by the idea, but I intend to work on him.) I want to do it as a regular weekly event now, and I'm taking some of the things I learned into other days, too. The no-TV breakfast, followed by a time of silence, is going to be a daily habit, as it was so much nicer a way to start the day. Also, I'm going to try to stop myself firing up the laptop on an evening - the afternoon is enough. I don't think it will be every afternoon, either.

Definitely a good experience!

Wider still, and wider

2009-03-31T01:38:00.000+01:00

So, having looked closely at the ways I spend my time online, I have been broadening out the idea of simplicity by looking at areas like my TV watching. It's very easy for me to veg out in front of the TV; it's in a direct line of sight from my wheelchair. Although I can still walk a little indoors, my wheelchair is the seat which provides me with the support I need, so it's where I sit when I'm not in bed.

TV and radio keep me entertained while I knit, in the living room - in the bedroom I have another radio, plus my audio books. I made a conscious decision not to have a TV in my bedroom any more when we moved in here, nearly two years ago. I didn't want any temptation to stay in bed all the time, when I was trying to get up a few hours every day, plus I don't like a lot of electrical stuff in the bedroom anyway. I think I already have too much in there!

Now that we have a DVR (we have Sky+), I no longer watch stuff just because it's on. I always have things to watch which I have made a choice to record for later. However, as with the blogs and mailing lists, I do tend to keep watching programmes just out of habit, or because they are series-linked (which means the DVR records every episode automatically).

So I sat down today and pruned my programme planner. I looked at each series or individual programme on there, whether recorded or upcoming, and asked myself if I really felt it was worth my time. Was it enjoyable? Was it positive? Was I just watching it from habit, or because I thought I should?

Once again I felt the weight lift from me as I worked my way through, and was delighted at the end of it to realise that, next time I looked, all I would see there would be things that I knew were really worth the energy it would take to watch them.

That wasn't the end of it, though. I had also read on Green and Quaker blogs about the idea of Green Sunday, an energy-saving day every week. I can't make my Sunday entirely fossil-fuel free: I have an electrically-powered oxygen concentrator, which keeps me supplied with oxygen, and I cannot use candles or other naked flames for lighting because the oxygen is so flammable. But I can turn off the TV and radio, avoid the computer, and spend time with my thoughts, enjoying the peace and silence, and my freedom from the tyranny of the mad little one-eyed god in the corner of my living room.

Simplicity - a wider view

2009-03-24T14:13:00.000Z

First of all, sorry that this is a day late. This weekend was the time for the small MfW in my home, and as usual it took a while for me to recover. But it was well worth the recovery time! Every month I seem to be meeting at least one new person (which is really making me feel part of the wider Meeting), as well as building relationships with people I have already met.

I've been thinking a lot recently about simplicity. I'm starting to see that it is not just a matter of avoiding conspicuous consumption, or refusing to follow fashion, but is a concept that can be applied to every part of our lives. When I was unable to spend more than a few minutes online yesterday, I started to worry because I would be creating a backlog of things to read which I would have to tackle today. I am on several mailing lists, Twitter and Ravelry (a kind of Facebook for knitters and crocheters), as well as subscribing to a sizeable number of blogs through Google Reader.

This made me stop and think. Was I reading all this stuff because it was important to me, and really entertained and informed me - or was it just habit? Did it all nourish me? As the BYM Advices and Queries 39 says,

Be discriminating when choosing means of entertainment and information.

Did I really need to spend ten minutes every afternoon reading a selection of cartoons, when I could be doing something more interesting?

So I pruned. I dropped a couple of mailing lists, a whole pile of Google Reader subs, and five of my Ravelry interest groups. It felt like a weight off my shoulders.

I should really know better than to overburden myself. I have been trying to learn to pace myself for nearly twelve years, to dole out my limited energy on the things that are important, and to pass on the things that I can manage without. It's a constant trade-off, to try to keep myself entertained, informed and in touch with my friends without trying to do so much that it lands me back under the duvet, unable to spend time and energy on anything other than sleeping and feeling awful. This is one more step on the way to knowing what is best for me and, while I am a little sad that I am still having to remind myself, it's a step I am glad to take.

(For an excellent perspective on living with limited energy, I recommend the Spoon Theory, from the wonderfully named website, But You Don't Look Sick.)

How does the truth prosper in me?

2009-03-16T15:39:00.000Z

An email arrived yesterday from our elder, reminding everyone that the Area Meeting was approaching, and asking for views on the question that would be asked there: 'How does the truth prosper in Durham?'

It's quite hard for me to answer this from the point of view of the Meeting generally, as I can't attend the main Meetings for Worship, and for Business. I have noticed that we seems to have blossomed this year, though. We now have a midweek Meeting, with a shared lunch, as well as a monthly discussion group that meets after MfW. Both of those have started in the last few months. We have a singing group which goes out to lead community singing in residential homes, and we're starting Quaker Quest soon. And of course, there is also the new monthly MfW in my home, and another in an older member's home. These I know from editing the Newsletter.

One thing I don't know is how much practical ministry we provide. I know there are prison visitors, and even a Quaker prison chaplain (we have an 'ordinary' prison (with a women's wing), a Young Offenders' Institution, and a high security prison, all within Durham). I'm sure there will be many other things going on that I don't know about, because people don't tend to 'blow their own trumpet' - but I think these are the kinds of activities which need to be in the newsletter just as much as the accounts of the discussion groups and Meetings for Business.

And me? Well, this was the year in which I became a Member, so it has been a very special year for me. Having the monthly MfW in my home has made me feel much more a part of things, and has helped me forge friendships with a larger number of people. Being given the task of Newsletter Editor has really brought me into the heart of things, and now I find out about all sorts of activities that are happening all over the area, not just in Durham. I was rather daunted by the task at first, but now I love it, and look forward to putting the newsletter together every month.

Spiritually, the longer I am a Quaker, the more I feel at home. I love the feeling I get in Meeting when I know that what is inside me must be spoken, even though it scares me. I really appreciate the gentleness and genuineness of my fellow Quakers. The testimony of simplicity speaks to me more and more clearly as time goes on, and I am supported by the knowledge of being surrounded by people who believe in it as much as I do, and who won't look down on me for not having the latest gadget or the newest clothes.

I love it that God is honoured by people knowing I can be relied upon to tell the truth, or to keep a confidence without gossiping. I hate it when I let him down, and pass judgement on people, or make a sarcastic comment. I'm not perfect, but I know he loves me anyway.

How does the truth prosper in me? I know that it has its roots deep within me, and I can see it flourishing in many areas of my life. With God's help, I hope to see the day when it flourishes in all of them.

Unexpected insight

2009-03-09T15:09:00.000Z

It seems last week that there were several Quaker blogs about ministry and direction. It must be a topic many of us are musing on at the same time! It will be interesting to see what happens next.

I was looking through some old journals, to find a poem I wanted for today's post, when I came across something entirely different which just leapt out at me. It was a little insight, undated, which read

Prayer is earthenware mugs, as well as porcelain tea cups.

Underneath it was a poem, which I now share with you:

Taking Tea with God

little finger crooked
I offer
tiny porcelain cups
and sandwiches so thin
that You could read Your book through them

You reply with exuberant doorstops
glistening with honey
fat stoneware mugs
filled up and overflowing

I hope everyone has a good week :)

Being useful

2009-03-02T17:25:00.000Z

When I was in my teens, I was involved with very evangelical Christian groups, where much was made of finding one's ministry - 'Have you found your ministry yet? Do you think x could be your ministry? Have you prayed for your ministry to be revealed to you?'

I was never quite sure what my ministry was, unless it was being able to perform all the words and actions of the Butterfly Song off by heart, and that seemed unlikely. It was just the most Christian thing I could do. All around me were preachers, prophets, people who could cast out demons, people with a mission to the homeless, people who ministered to alcoholics and drug addicts - and there was I, my only useful talent (as I thought) waving my hands around and ruffling my hair.

As I got older and grew further away from that area of the church, I began to see that 'having a ministry' was no simple, one-time deal. I met people who had maybe worked with the homeless for years, and then got deeply involved with, say, a choir or a theatre group (not mutually exclusive activities, of course, but I hope you see my point). Or maybe they'd been a lay preacher, then packed it all in to go and do voluntary work overseas. Perhaps it wasn't a case of finding my ministry, but listening, and doing what I was told.

Now that I am a Quaker, I can't remember anyone ever asking me what my ministry is. We seem more interested in bringing out people's many abilities and gifts than shoe-horning them into one special area.

I have always had a way with words, and blogging has become my most frequent practice of my writing skills. After reading my blogs, other members wondered if I would be a good Editor for the newsletter. I was worried about taking it on at first, in case it over-taxed me, but I spread out the work as much as I can over the month, and I know no one is going to complain if it's a couple of days late. So far, though, I have got it out on time, three months in a row.

The first two months were four pages long, but this month is ten pages, a real bumper issue. People seem to like my style, and are keen to submit items. I love doing it, I can use my skills, and I get thanks for doing a good job. I don't care what my ministry is now, I just enjoy being useful - and I still love singing the Butterfly Song...

Visual thoughts

2009-02-23T16:25:00.000Z

I used to be quite wary of sharing my thoughts and feelings about my faith. I suppose I thought people would laugh at me or tell me I had things all wrong. Since being ill I have become much more confident about my opinions and feelings, maybe because I now have so much time to think about them and be sure of them! Becoming a Quaker has definitely helped in this process. I know that fellow Friends will not make fun of the things I say. It's a safe feeling.

Sometimes when I am keeping silence, I have images or visual thoughts alongside the usual verbal ones. On one occasion, long before I began attending Quakers, I saw that I was walking hand-in-hand with Jesus, along a path near a wood. He turned to me and said, “'Friends walking together don't need to talk all the time; as long as they walk together, the silences don't matter.”

This was of enormous comfort to me, as my M.E. means that sometimes I can really struggle to find the words I need. It also formed an important part of my journey towards finding Quakers.

On another occasion, after I had been ill for some time, I was beginning to suffer from depression at my worsening condition. I saw a deep pit, full of shadows and darkness, and I realized that I was standing on Jesus, as if I were standing on a ledge. He said to me, “There is much further down you could go - but you won't.”

Since then I have never again felt so frightened and low, even though my physical condition has not improved.

These visual thoughts don't come often, but when they do, they stay with me for a long time afterwards.

The gift of simplicity

2009-02-17T16:33:00.000Z

This entry should really have been up yesterday, but I have the most enjoyable of all excuses for its late arrival - we had Meeting for Worship in my home on Sunday :) These small meetings have been an occasional thing so far, but it was decided on Sunday that they should be monthly now, about which I am absolutely delighted!

Normally I would have rested on Sunday afternoon after all the excitement of having visitors, but like an idiot I pushed on with a hat I was knitting for a deadline. That, combined with having had a broken night's sleep (my oxygen machine packed up, and I had to go onto a cylinder) meant that by Sunday night I had thoroughly crashed. I was asleep for most of yesterday (Monday), but I'm starting to poke my nose out and blink now...

For the first time in many meetings, I spoke. I was quite taken aback to feel that familiar

excuse me

excuse me

and, for once, I didn't need to wait until it became

EXCUSE ME

before I gave in and spoke :)

And what I said was (more or less) this:

We are going to become an important help to people in this credit crunch/depression. So many people use shopping as a band-aid over the emptiness in their lives, and get into more and more debt doing so. There just won't be the consumer credit available any more to do this, nor the money available to service the debt, and people are going to be left without their prop.

We know the joy of freedom from acquisitiveness and the retail therapy culture. We can demonstrate the joys to be had in simplicity and not buying things for the sake of buying them. People are going to need that voice, that perspective. We have the experience people will need in finding support in non-material things, and we will be able, if we choose, to share that.

We all agreed afterwards that sometimes a problem can bring out the best in people (the old 'Blitz spirit'!), and we all hoped that this would be the case over the next few months.

As BYM Advices and Queries no. 41 says:

A simple lifestyle freely chosen is a source of strength.

And if you don't invest your happiness in things, then it can't be taken away by bailiffs....

Fluffy Brain Days

2009-02-09T14:23:00.000Z

Blogging on a set day seems like such a good idea, until I get to a day when my brain is full of fluff and I am devoid of inspiring content!

I had a rough week last week, culminating in a bad bout of insomnia on Saturday night/Sunday morning (I finally fell asleep a little short of 6am). I feel distinctly uninspired, although I know that's just the effect of the illness.

So, a little something from my Commonplace Book to ponder on. I have kept a Commonplace Book for years now, noting down any quotations that speak to me, amuse me or are just plain beautifully written.

I went to my oldest Commonplace Book for today's entry, and got sidetracked by a number of old friends which I had forgotten. The one which I would like to share with you is from Gerard W Hughes' brilliant book, God of Suprises, and it's one I find very heartening on days like today:

When we pray, we may become more aware of our inner chaos.

This is a grace, a gift of insight, not a sign of failure.

Have a peaceful week, everyone.

Hope

2009-02-02T16:07:00.000Z

Gil S had a meme on her blog about poetry today and, although I'm not really joining with the meme, I would like to share this with you.

It was commissioned for the multi-faith chapel in the new hospital in Durham. I was asked to stay away from specifically Christian imagery or subject matter, and I thought something common to all religions was the idea of hope.

Hope

I stand beside the football fan, the student in exams,
The busy driver looking for a space,
The mother tucking in her sleeping child

I know consultants' waiting rooms,
The operating theatres and ITUs

When you are quite alone and all is silence
I am here

I hold your hand in darkness

I will never leave

A little glimpse of Heaven

2009-01-26T23:28:00.000Z

I was having trouble today settling into silence. I was uncomfortable in my chair, I have a chesty cough at present which kept interrupting me, odd thoughts kept popping up - you know how it is.

Suddenly I was aware of a chaffinch singing. The two oak trees immediately in front of my house are still leafless, so it was quite easy to spot the little bird, hopping from branch to branch. I must have watched and listened to him for ten minutes, as he made his way round both trees before finally flying off.

I sat back in my chair and took in my surroundings again. The sun had come out, low but surprisingly bright, warming the trees and the cream rendering on the house opposite. The sky was a pale but distinct blue.

And I felt utterly at peace.

Links

2009-01-19T14:32:00.000Z

Doesn't Monday come round quickly!

My brain this week is full of fog and has no deep insight to offer. What I can offer, though, is some of the more unusual Quaker links I am accumulating in my search for Newsletter fodder.

I'd like to start with the Digital Quaker Collection. This is like Project Gutenberg for Quaker writings. It has complete texts of all kinds of Quaker writings, including well-known books like Barclay's Apology and the Journals of John Woolman. It's hosted by Earlham School of Religion, and is an invaluable resource for older texts. A small and more easily navigated selection of the most famous texts can also be found in the Quaker pages of the Street Corner Society.

I enjoyed browsing this collection of Quaker Quotes, which range in time from the beginnings of the Society up until 2002. This is a really varied selection - from the Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech to an article entitled Danger of Quaker Smugness!

The Southern Quarter of Philadelphia Yearly Meeting has an excellent outreach website for children called KidsQuake, in which you can find an illuminating list of Quaker films and documentaries. I also found two different websites containing examples of Quaker Humour - some funnier than others, of course! My favourite is a note spotted on an office workstation: 'I am a Quaker. In case of emergency, please be quiet.' Which tells you all you need to know about my sense of humour....

Lastly for today, the Quaker Jargon Buster. Never again need you wonder about the meaning of daffodil ministry, being eldered, or the significance of the phrase, 'That name would not have occurred to me...' This is a UK site, so if any non-UK readers would like to tell me about jargon from their areas, I would love to hear it :)

So far, so good

2009-01-12T15:18:00.000Z

Well, it's Monday, and I'm here as I planned.

Now - what to say??

Actually, it's easy to know what to say. I am feeling so much happier and more connected for having made a point of putting aside a little time each day for silence. I've never been one for surrounding myself with extraneous noise anyway, but a little intentional silence, where I try to connect with God, has been a positive and happy part of each day so far.

In the past when I have had quiet times (I'm not keen on calling them that - it's too close to Quiet Time, which has too many bad associations for me from my times with charismatic groups), I've used a Bible verse or a section of Advices and Queries to concentrate on while I settle in to it. At present I have gone back to reading my Twelve Quakers and... booklets, which I was given when I became a Member. They are ideal for this, as each section is fairly short, and is always thought-provoking. (If you follow the link - there are two on the following page as well.)

What do you do to settle into silence?

First Post of 2009

2009-01-05T12:21:00.000Z

I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I don't see the point in setting myself up to fail by giving myself a list of things that I know I will not keep up, even until the end of the first month. But every January I do take the opportunity to look at what I'm doing and decide if it's what I want to do.

What I want to do this year - and I have no idea of whether this will work, because there are so many variables - is to go back to something I tried on my knitting blog, and which worked well until I got very sick with food poisoning. This was to write a little each week, regardless of how little, just to keep my writing muscles flexible. I do tend, especially on this blog, to wait until I am struck by a good idea - and so weeks can go by without my writing a thing! It's a strange thing about inspiration - the more I write, the more inspiration I find...

I also want to try to write only in the blog, and not in my head. I'm a terror for getting an idea, and then planning the whole thing out mentally, coining phrases and marshalling my ideas, until I spend so much time on it that I am bored with the whole idea and never actually write it down. There are numerous wonderful blog entries in my head which never made it to the screen. I've also just taken over as the Newsletter Editor at my Meeting (Durham, part of BYM), so I'm intending to bring this habit to bear on my newsletter writing, too!

Finally, I want to be more organised about my times of silence. No pump produces water without being primed, and my writing pump is fed directly by my spiritual priming. It's sheer laziness that makes me turn on the TV or radio instead of spending some time every day in silence, and I must break the habit.

So, I'm going to try for a little every Monday. Don't expect great wisdom every week - but I will at least try to show up :)

Happy New Year, everyone.

Gratitude

2008-11-27T18:13:00.000Z

Although we don't celebrate Thanksgiving here in Britain, I like the idea of sitting down and thinking about what we're thankful for. So:

I am thankful for the NHS and all my medication; plumbing and sanitation; a comfy bed and a warm duvet; and a secure roof over my head.

I'm thankful that, when my beloved cat Tigger died earlier this month, it was quick and relatively painless, and that we were there with him. (This is why I haven't blogged for a while.) I'm also thankful that our remaining cat, Chloe, has not been too griefstricken.

I'm thankful for my wonderful son who, while not being perfect, and driving me to distraction on occasion, is pretty amazing most of the time.

I'm thankful for my close and loving family, even though my sister and I cannot live together for longer than three days without arguing, and talking to my mother gives me a sore throat because she won't wear her hearing aid.

I'm thankful that I still have the ability to use my hands to create lovely, useful, colourful things with a ball of yarn and a couple of needles (or a crochet hook).

I'm thankful that my Meeting doesn't forget me, although I can no longer attend; and I'm especially grateful that we are holding a small Meeting for Worship in my living room this month.

I am thankful for organic high-cocoa chocolate; brown rice and ratatouille; pasta; a good cup of tea; porridge with honey and cinnamon; pomegranates, peaches, plums, crisp Braeburn apples, and just-ripe bananas.

I am thankful for the works of Jessamyn West, Jane Austen, Doreen Tovey, Deric Longden, Dorothy L Sayers, Betty MacDonald, Liz Jensen, Patrick Gale, E J Oxenham, Roger McGough, Alexander McCall Smith, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, Elizabeth Zimmermann, Adrian Plass, Mary Thomas.... and for every book which has given me pleasure and food for thought.

I am thankful for blue skies, starry nights, fresh snow, and the two oak trees outside our home as they show us the changing of the seasons.

I am thankful for the Internet, and all the people I have encountered through it. It gives me a social life I would otherwise never have been able to have.

I am thankful that I listened and obeyed, and found myself in a Meeting for the first time; like so many others, I felt I had come home.

Happy Thanksgiving, to those who celebrate it; and to those of us who do not - happy Thursday!

That of God

2008-10-11T22:44:00.000+01:00

The accidental death was announced today of a right-wing Austrian politician. My immediate reaction to news of this type is relief - another one gone. That lasts for a micro-second before I remember that I am supposed to see that of God in everyone.

It is very easy to demonise the far right, and to think of them as monsters - especially that famous Austrian/German of the 1930s and 40s, whose name I still feel uneasy about writing here in case I get swamped by messages from people who believe he was right. It is so much easier to think of them as inhuman than to accept that they were ordinary people like us.

If we put tyrants and architects of genocide into a special category, we risk seeing them as two-dimensional figures, simple ciphers of evil. This is a very dangerous thing to do, as we then ignore the truth that anyone has the possibility of evil within them - they don't have to conform to some special stereotype, with blazing eyes, or funny moustaches. By turning these figures into the bogeyman, we may run the risk of not understanding how they, as ordinary human beings, achieved power and began to put their ideas into practice.

It is an unpalatable truth that we all have prejudices, and that these can be played upon. None of these people achieved power without the support of other people, whether it was their own cadre of cronies, or a majority national vote. None of them operated alone.

So, having accepted that they were as human as the rest of us, how do we see that of God in them?

I'm still working on that one. Let me know if you have any flashes of inspiration....

In the mean time, for anyone who thinks him- or herself free of prejudice, I offer one of my older poems (yes, I write poems too - not as many as I used to, and not as many as I would like). It's a performance piece - in other words, not all the views are mine! - and is called:

Racist

no one could call me racist
but I really don't like Americans
they're everywhere you go
with foghorn shirts and corny voices
though I like my friend Linda from Boulder
and Anne from Antioch U
so no one could call me racist

I don't like the Welsh much either
burning cottages, whingeing at tourists
and let's face it: we're their bread and butter
I like Penn, but he's living in England
so perhaps he doesn't count
no, no one could call me racist

I'm also not keen on the French
I don't know any French people
but I don't like the ones that I've met
in shops on holiday: the cheek,
they pretend not to understand me
and I got an A for French
but no one could call me racist

I get on well with everyone
except the Americans
the Welsh
the French
people who call me honey
people who are cruel to children
people who let their children run riot
people who tell mother-in-law jokes
people like my mother-in-law
people with ginger hair
people who are not like me

me racist?
never

12 Quakers and....

2008-09-13T17:32:00.000+01:00

No, it's not the start of a joke :) As I mentioned in an earlier post: when I was accepted as a member, and because I already had a copy of Quaker Faith and Practice, I was offered a set of Quaker Quest booklets called "12 Quakers and...".

These were written to be used not only in Quaker Quest, but also by attenders and new members. They are written very simply, by members of the Quaker Quest team in London, and each booklet has a different topic: God, Jesus, Worship, Equality, Pacifism, Simplicity and Evil.

(On a somewhat trivial note - my set has a lovely purple box cover, made by a local bookbinder, and, as each pamphlet is a different colour of the rainbow, they look extremely inviting!)

As the title suggests, there are 12 sections in each booklet, covering a wide spectrum of views. These are not simplistic, bland 'This is what Quakers believe...' booklets, but come from the deeply-held beliefs of individual members. They are all written anonymously.

I am thoroughly enjoying them. They are a perfect example of the aspect of Quaker literature that I appreciate most: that, rather than just offering abstruse theology, or prescriptions of how to think, we value and disseminate individual members' honest thoughts and beliefs. These in turn find readers who can relate to them.

Each section is quite short - anything from one paragraph to three or four pages - and so I can read and think about a new one every day. I also re-read the one I read the previous day, just to help fix it in my mind. Several passages have gone into my Commonplace Book already, not just entire paragraphs, but also simple sentences, like this from section 2 of '12 Quakers and Equality':

Equality does not mean I am not special. It means we all are.

If you would like to purchase any for yourself, or for your Meeting Library, they are all available at the Friends' Bookshop (scroll down, and go onto the next page also) in Friends' House, London. I can really recommend them, and I am very grateful to Judith, the Elder who suggested them to me.

Serendipity

2008-09-03T16:33:00.000+01:00

Elizabeth Sherrill, in All The Way To Heaven, writes:

Moments...when the small routines of living seem to flow without effort - when I experience what our friend David Manuel calls a 'graced day'. The news item I wanted to hear is on the radio as I tune in. The person I've been trying to contact phones me. A car pulls out of the parking place as I drive up. It's a day when the timing of many schedules seems to mesh like notes in a symphony. When in the humblest event I 'catch the universe in the act of rhyming'.

I have had two examples of serendipity lately that have made me laugh aloud. One involved tracking down a Bible verse, to find, when I eventually got to a Bible look-up site, that it was the example given for ways to look things up; and the other was the coming to light of a book I've been looking for.

I first read Ruth Barton's Invitation to Solitude and Silence when I was just beginning to investigate the idea of silent worship, well before I considered becoming a Quaker. It struck me then as an eminently down-to-earth, practical and sensible book that didn't assume (unlike some I have read) that you are Super-Christian. I gave up on that one a long time ago - and anyway, the cape would get tangled in my wheels :)

I lent it to a dear friend who was moving along a similar path to me, and she loved it too. She tried to find a copy for herself and failed, so when she gave it back to me, she suggested I keep it safe. A few months later I moved to my hew house, and purged my bookshelves - but I was sure I did not get rid of it.

That being said, I couldn't actually see it there either. The waist-height bookcases are behind the sofa, with about 18 inches of space between them and it, and it's pretty difficult for me to get all the way along them. I'd concluded it must be on a bottom shelf, out of my sight.

On a whim I asked Jacky, my regular carer, to look for it today. I described it to her - thin paperback, pale spine, called something about silence and solitude - and she started looking. 'Is it about this size?' she said, pulling a book out.

'Exactly that size,' I said. 'That's the book.'

It was on a top shelf, and yet I had never spotted it. We both just burst out laughing at the coincidence, and I heard Elizabeth Sherrill's words in my head again :)

I am no longer so arrogant as to believe that God micromanages my life. Why would She find a book I needed, but not give water and food to the inhabitants of Darfur? But, like Elizabeth Sherrill, I always enjoy hearing the rhyming.

The meme of fives

2008-08-17T23:44:00.000+01:00

Thanks to Gil S, who revealed her answers to this in her blog, because I was nosy and asked her to! (Do go and read her blog. It's excellent.)

Fair's fair - here are my answers:

What was I doing 5 years ago?
Changing my surname back to the one I started with, having just endured a messy divorce and wanting to draw a firm line under it.

What 5 things are on my to-do list?
Catch up on my emails, finish the stocking fillers I'm knitting for Christmas, read some more of the Jessamyn West book I'm enjoying, see the diabetes nurse for the first time, phone my sister.

What are 5 snacks you enjoy?
Grapes, olives, cashew nuts, crisp apples, peanut butter on wholegrain toast.

What 5 things would you do as a billionaire?
Clean water, for free, for the whole world; fund ME research; free healthcare for all; solve the RSoF's financial problems at a stroke; travel, by wheelchair-friendly ship, with a carer and my son.

What are 5 jobs you've had?
Organ tuner's assistant; working in a bookshop; knitwear designer; published poet; freelance copy editor.

If you are reading this, you have a blog, and you haven't done this one already - consider yourself tagged!

Long Way Home - Part 2

2008-08-01T15:10:00.001+01:00

First of all - thank you so much to everyone who commented on my last post, and welcomed me or congratulated me. I love hearing from other bloggers, and I try to leave comments myself where I can, but I'm not always up to anything but reading.

I want to complete my account of my way home to the RSoF, which I left off on May 29 (where have the days gone?). I had got to the point of moving in with my fiance and declaring myself an atheist. As I finished that post, I wrote that I had nothing to do with religion for the next 19 years, which was my recollection at the time. Since then, however, different memories have been surfacing, snippets here and there of events and people that I had forgotten along the way.

I did avoid ordinary church services for quite a while. I even tried to persuade myself that God didn't exist, but that didn't last. My faith was too deeply seated in me to be uprooted so easily. We were married in my home church, and our son was baptised in the local church across the road from our new home. Yes, across the road - I wasn't avoiding churches too successfully :)

In 1988, I divorced my husband. I moved out with my son, and met someone who was to become one of my dearest friends. He ran a Scout troop and Cub pack, and I was soon helping out, which included going to church parade in a beautiful, traditional Anglican church which reminded me powerfully of St James'. We also attended services at the Methodist church in the area where we lived; I remember one Good Friday service very well. It involved writing on slips of paper the things that you thought made you unlovable by God, and then these were collected up and burnt in a dish on the altar. A very simple act, but psychologically very effective!

We also took our Scouts to other services, such as an Ascension Day service in a beautiful ruined abbey on the outskirts of the city. That was truly memorable, worshipping under the darkening skies, with little bats beginning to fly by the time it ended.

After he was promoted at work and moved away, I decided to try an evangelical church again. Traditional services weren't fulfilling me, and I had begun to feel nostalgic about the 'good old days' of of simple choruses, clear-cut Biblical teaching, and absolute certainty that I was a 'proper' Christian. I conveniently forgot how screwed up it had made me, and how guilty I had felt, all the time...

I have to stress that I have no criticism of anyone who attends this or any other evangelical church, and that I was warmly welcomed. The service was bright and cheerful, with a large and enthusiastic congregation. It just wasn't for me. This was underlined for me when an acquaintance I had not seen for some time approached me after the service, hugged me, and said, 'Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I always knew you were one of the elect!'

My eyebrows went up with my hackles, and it was all I could do to smile, and explain that I had to go because I had another appointment. I didn't want to be part of anything that set itself apart as The Only Way. It was as alien to me as the statement by my old headmistress that only Roman Catholics go to Heaven. I couldn't go back to the evangelical churches and I wasn't happy in traditional ones. It was at this point that I really did stop going anywhere near a church, and kept my ideas on faith to myself.

Eight years later, in early 1999, I found myself spending the night in the bridal suite of a local hotel - not because I was remarrying (I had done that six months previously), but because I had had to escape from my second husband. The whole city was full up because it was graduation week at the university, and this was the only room available. The irony was not lost on me....

My second husband was an alcoholic, a fact he had managed to hide from me for quite some time. I knew nothing about alcoholism, and had gone ahead with the wedding because he had promised me he would control it. As it turned out, it was too much for him to control and, after I had been the subject of several of his violent outbursts (he threatened me with an air rifle, a sword, and a hammer), I had had to get out. I had had M.E. for about eighteen months at this point, but I was still able to drive the car.

I lay in bed that night utterly exhausted and drained. I felt as though I had no mental, emotional or spiritual resources left, and I certainly didn't have many physical ones. Deep down I knew that I needed my faith more than ever, and I was sick of pretending it wasn't important. I didn't know where to start, though - I had denied God, shoved my faith into a dark corner and done nothing a 'proper Christian' should do for so long. I was sure God would have no reason to take me back.

I closed my eyes. In my mind's eye, I could see the prodigal son trudging home to his father, wretched and embarrassed, sure that his father would deny him. And then I saw the father, racing down the road, robes flying, swinging his son into the air and hugging him. It was so vivid, and, as I realised later, just as David Goddard had retold it at one Family Service when I was a teenager. I threw myself mentally into God's arms, and cried tears of relief until I fell asleep.

I had to go back to my husband the next day (bridal suites are expensive), and we worked out a new set of rules for the relationship, which worked for another eighteen months until I finally divorced him in 2001. He never again threatened me with violence - I think he had been so shocked by my running away that he didn't want to risk my doing that again.

I became a member of the Methodist church, because I was drawn to its ideas on social justice. Although the services were much less structured than Anglican ones, I still felt every week that I was just settling into prayer when the next hymn would be announced. I met another influential friend at the village chapel; she had a similar church background to mine, and, like me, was searching for somewhere to fit in.

We began to meet up, pray together, and share our opinions and ideas. We were both interested in silent prayer, and found out that there was a Julian group in the city which we started to attend. These interdenominational groups are based around the teachings of Julian of Norwich, and silent prayer is the main focus of the meeting. (If you do not know anything about Julian, please click the link and read the Wikipedia article - she was amazingly ahead of her time!)

So - a deep desire for social justice, a love of silent worship, pacifist ideas that I had had since I was a child (and heard my father's stories of World War II ), and a belief that no one branch of Christianity, or any other religion, is the sole way to God. The next step seemed blindingly obvious.

My sister had been a senior teacher at a Quaker school, so I knew a little about the Society. Google brought me to the BYM website, and I applied for an information pack. I was so excited when it came; the more I read, the more I found myself in agreement. All sorts of things that I had always thought, but been told were wrong, were OK for Quakers - affirming in court instead of swearing an oath, the complete non-necessity of clergy acting as middlemen, the validity of ongoing revelation. I contacted the clerk at my nearest Meeting, and he came out to see me. Shortly after that, I went to my first Meeting.

I was on a high for days afterwards. I knew absolutely that this was where I was meant to be. At the next Meeting, I was prompted to speak. At the Meeting after that, I stayed on for a Meeting for Business, and was fascinated to see how it worked.

Shortly after that my health took another downturn, and I was unable to attend Meetings for Worship any more. I had plenty of visitors to keep me in touch with the Meeting, and eventually we began to have small MfW in my home, something which has now been extended to other housebound members.

I know now that I am home, and I have never been happier.

Celebrations!

2008-07-15T23:42:00.000+01:00

Rejoice with me, Friends and readers - my application for membership was considered at last weekend's Area Meeting, and I am now a member instead of an attender! :D

The main thing that was stopping me from applying is that, being more or less bedridden, I couldn't fulfil the recommendation that I attend other Meetings to see how other places did things. However, the two Friends allocated to visit me, to make sure I knew what I was getting myself into (!), pointed out that reading a range of blogs, and investigating online worship, gives me as much of an idea of the spectrum of Friends as I would get from physically visiting other Meetings - and probably more!

I certainly feel I have gained a little knowledge of how things stand internationally, which I don't think I would have got outside of the online community. This is the positive side of the cyber revolution, and one I wish got more coverage. It's time the media realised that not all websites are porn sites :)

As I already have a copy of Quaker Faith and Practice, the elder asked me to think about another book I could be given from the Meeting. After discussion, we agreed that I will be getting the set of seven '12 Quakers and...' booklets, bound into one volume by a bookbinder Friend. Each contains twelve Quakers' writings on a different testimony. I am really looking forward to reading them!

Seeking perfection

2008-07-11T12:50:00.000+01:00

"Perfection is not required of us; but that we walk cheerfully in the right direction, seeking to live sustainably on our earth.”

(BYM Epistle 2008)

I've just been reading up on Britain Yearly Meeting on the UK Quaker website (the latest issue of Quaker News is now up online). The quotation above sums up what I have been thinking about for a long time.

When I was a teenager, I spent so much time turning myself inside out trying to be 'a good witness'. I felt that, having been 'born again', I should be perfect - after all, God had forgiven my sins, and made me whole again, so why was it so hard to stay that way?

It took me years to realise that I had it the wrong way round. I didn't have to be perfect to get close to God. All I had to do was allow myself to get closer to God, to spend more time listening and less time apologising. The more I did that, the easier and more natural it was to do the things I was desperate to do - control my temper, live more simply, see that of God in everyone.

I know now that I will never attain perfection. I also know now that God loves me regardless :)

(This ties in so much with my journey towards the Society, and I will write that second half of the account soon. It's much clearer in my mind now, as my membership visitors came this week, and that journey was one of the things we discussed. I will finish it soon!)

Reflections on the Prayer Vigil

2008-06-29T15:12:00.000+01:00

I don't usually go into a time of silent waiting with a fixed agenda; that seems to me to run counter to the whole point of the exercise. I mean, I hold people in the light, but apart from that I try to be silent and listen.

So it was with some trepidation that I prepared to fulfil my commitment to the night vigil for UN Torture Victims Day. I was concerned mainly that I might fall back into my old habit of 'shopping list prayer', when I would be so busy asking God for things, and trying to cover every aspect of a situation so that He would know how deeply I'd thought about it, that I would forget to listen for any reply.

I tried very hard to turn off my own thoughts every time they began to intrude. It seemed to work - I got so much insight just from this brief time that I was amazed when I opened my eyes and saw that just my allotted fifteen minutes had passed.

What I learned was this. We all know what torture looks like. We have seen it on TV, read about it in the papers. The victims of torture deserve and demand any and all help we can give. But who are the victims? Not just the person tortured, but their families, their communities, and most definitely the torturers themselves.

Torture is an insidious evil which leaves no one untouched.

When there is domestic violence, there is torture. When there is bullying, there is torture. Like those child victims of abuse who grow up to be abusers, are torturers created by suffering torture themselves?

This is not meant to dilute the awful experiences of those undergoing what we all think of as torture. But I believe deeply that we often do not realise how close those victims can be to us. Not all torture victims are in faraway countries in medieval dungeons. Sometimes they can be just next door.

I know now that I have to keep remembering that within humanity, within each one of us, is the capacity for great cruelty and harm. It's so common to hear an anecdote finished with a laughing, 'Ooh, I could have killed him', or 'I could have strangled her'.Why do we say these things so lightly?

I feel that I have been led another step closer to God. The more time I spend with Him, the easier it becomes to get closer to Him and to live out His teachings, and the less I want to do the things that keep me away from Him. So, in addition to all the other things I have embraced and found strength in, I have to add the awareness of casual violence, not only around me but within me. And I thought I was a good pacifist already...

UN Torture Victims Day

2008-06-19T00:23:00.000+01:00

26 June is UN Torture Victims Day, an international day of awareness and prayer for the victims, their families, the torturers and the politicians who back them.

ACAT (Action by Christians for the Abolition of Torture) is supporting this day of awareness by organising a worldwide prayer vigil. The aim is for there to be constant prayer, across the globe, from 8pm on 27 June to 8am on 28 June.

If you feel that you can support this, and wish to take part, please go along to the Night Vigil site to register your intention, and to pick a time slot. Of course, this isn't necessary, and we can all pray at other times too - and I hope we will - but it is heartening to see the number of signings going up as more and more people join.

You can sign up as an individual or as a group. Please think about doing this, even if you are not by inclination a 'joiner'. It's a great support for those who are undergoing torture to know that they are not forgotten.

Warmongers in Census negotiations

2008-06-11T13:59:00.000+01:00

The following email was forwarded to me today:

The next UK Census (in 2011), in which participation is compulsory, might be run by an arms company with close links to the United States government, and which also focuses on intelligence and surveillance work. See below for more info.

The decision is now imminent. Sign the petition today: (Deadline to sign up by: 15 June 2008)

Petition on the Downing Street website

What's the problem?

The process of running the 2011 Census will be contracted out by the Office of National Statistics to a private company.

One of the two contractors in the final round of selection is the arms company Lockheed Martin, 80% of whose business is with the US Department of Defence and other Federal Government agencies.

This might concern you because: The Census rules mean that every household will be legally obliged to provide a wide range of personal information that will be handled by the chosen contractor. Lockheed Martin produces missiles and land mines which are being used in Afghanistan and Iraq and which are illegal in many countries. They also focus on intelligence and surveillance work and boast of their ability to provide `integrated threat information´ that combines information from many different sources.

New questions in the 2011 Census will include information about income and place of birth, as well as existing questions about languages spoken in the household and many other personal details. This information would be very useful to Lockheed Martin´s intelligence work, and fears that the data might not be safe could lead to many people not filling in their Census forms.

Census Alert is therefore campaigning to stop Lockheed Martin from being given the contract.

The campaign is supported by the Green Party, politicians from Plaid Cymru, Labour and the Scottish National Party, and others opposed to the arms trade and concerned about personal privacy.

We are not opposed to the Census itself. Aggregated, the information collected is important in allocating resources to local authorities and public services. But personal privacy is important too, and we are concerned that Lockheed Martin's involvement could undermine public confidence in the process and lead to inaccurate data being collected.

There is still time to stop this happening and we are not calling for a boycott of the Census at this stage.

Before the final decisions on the contract are made, we are asking you to do the following:

Sign our petition opposing arms company involvement in the Census. Contact your MP and ask them to raise the issue in Parliament. Contact your local Councillor and ask them to highlight their concerns about the allocation of local authority resources.

Important electronic communications disclaimer

--
Karen Clarke
Senior Lecturer in Social Policy
Politics, School of Social Sciences,
University of Manchester,
Arthur Lewis Building,
Oxford Road,
Manchester M13 9PL
UK
Tel: 0161 275 4770
email: karen.clarke@manchester.ac.uk

A little hiatus

2008-06-05T00:48:00.000+01:00

Before I come back to the account of my journey to Friends, I want to share something that is greatly on my mind.

Newberg Friends Church in the US is currently conducting a six-week corporate fast. This doesn't mean all the members are refraining from food, rather that every member is being encouraged to consider giving up non-essential activities and things that do not feed them spiritually.

AJ Schwanz has a great, thought-provoking and honest post about the way that the first Meeting after the start of the fast went, and how it felt to have her children with her in Meeting.

I was also interested to read the post before that. She had been brought up short by Isaiah 58, and hadn't been able to read past it, so she had brought it to the planning meeting for the fast and shared it with everyone there. She reprints the text and asks if any verse resonates with her readers.

Well, I have been aware for a while now that I am spending too much time online faffing around and doing nothing, and also that my overall time online is impinging on the time I need for reading, sleeping, and sitting in the Light, so I was very drawn to the idea of the fast anyway. When I read Isaiah 58, part of v11 really stuck out for me: 'You shall be like a watered garden'.

It's so long since I have felt anything but exhausted, dehydrated and frazzled - physically, mentally and spiritually. I'm not looking after myself properly, and I want to feel that contentment and health again. I may not be able to cure myself physically, but I can do a much better job of ensuring I get the rest I need, and that I eat nourishing food instead of things I like but which are not good for me (chocolate, I am looking at you....)

If I am not looking after myself physically, that affects how I am mentally. Mental overwork and stress tire me out as quickly as physical overwork and stress, and can be just as simply dealt with. And I never feel spiritually fulfilled if I don't spend time with the source of my spiritual nourishment!

The whole verse actually goes like this:

The LORD will guide you continually,
And satisfy your soul in drought,
And strengthen your bones;
You shall be like a watered garden,
And like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

I could really do with some strength in my bones, and some quenching of drought. It's in my hands now - it's up to me to accept the offer and do the right thing.

Watch this space....

My long journey home

2008-05-29T17:28:00.000+01:00

I thought it would be interesting to try to chart the journey that led me to becoming a Quaker.

I began to develop a faith of my own at an early age. I don't remember a time when I didn't believe in God.

I come from a staunchly Anglican (Church of England) family. I don't mean that we always attended at Easter and Christmas - I mean that we had, at one point, an unbroken 100-year record of service to the same church, concluding with my father as churchwarden and my sister and I as sidesmen (ushers taking care of the side aisles). Church was an important thing, and my father in particular had a very strong faith.

We attended a pretty Victorian church with stained glass windows and wooden pews, which still used the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and had a service of Sung Communion once a month. I didn't bother for long with Sunday School, but began to go straight into church with Dad.

Although we had a very erudite vicar, who used to give long sermons full of learned and abstruse theology, I loved being in the church. It made me feel comfortable, and the beauty and poetry of the seventeenth-century language in the prayer book and in the King James' Bible sank into me so deeply that I can still repeat parts verbatim now.

Of course, I didn't always understand what I was hearing back then, but I loved the music of the phrases!

When I was about 12, we got a new vicar who was the polar opposite of the old one. David Goddard was a bear of a man, an ex-rugby player with a shock of white hair and a love of bone-crunching hugs. He was one of the biggest influences on my life, and a wonderful man.

His sermons were lively and interesting, and he was particularly good with children. His love for God shone out of him, and the congregation grew rapidly as a result of his welcoming attitude. We began to use a more modern Bible translation for the lessons, and the new ASB modern prayer book. David also set up Bible study groups and prayer groups, which I joined with enthusiasm. I still miss the Sunday evening singsong in the Vicarage dining room.

Around this time (1973), I changed schools when my parents sent me to a local Catholic convent school. They wanted smaller class sizes than the state school could offer, as well as a single-sex intake. I was getting far too distracted by boys at my old school!

I was surprised at how little difference there was between the words spoken at an Anglican Communion service and at the Catholic Mass. I'd never really had anything to do with other denominations before, and this completely puzzled me. I also had a stand-up argument with the Headmistress, a rather formidable nun, because she told me that I was a heathen and was going to Hell unless I became a Catholic: 'Only we Catholics have the pearl of great price.'

At 14, while reading a Gospel account of the crucifixion from 'Good News for Modern Man' (later 'The Good News Bible'), I had a deep emotional reaction to the reality of how much God must love us, and became what I soon discovered was called 'born again'.

I really was pretty obnoxious for the next few years. I had all the answers, and no one else knew anything. I even explained to my father, straight-faced, that he had to accept Jesus in his heart and be born again, or he would not enter Heaven. Luckily he was always very kind and understanding to all three of us children, and didn't laugh me out of the room! I can honestly say now that I have met few people less in need of 'conversion' than my father.

I felt guilty if I read anything other than Christian evangelical books, or listened to anything but Christian music. I was so relieved when Bob Dylan announced he was becoming a Christian, as it meant I could go back to listening to him without guilt!

I had it drummed into me by the books that I read that I had to start and end each day with a Bible study and a 'quiet time'. I kept 'shopping lists' of all the people and situations that I thought I should pray for, and would work my way diligently through them, telling God what I thought He should do.

Every book I read gave me more things to do, more people to pray for, more spiritual exercises to complete or things I should avoid. I worried incessantly that I was not a good witness, that I should pray in tongues, that I should memorise more Bible verses, that I should evangelise on street corners, or sneak out at night to convert the homeless. More than once I stayed awake for hours at night, praying for forgiveness for things I'd done in my past, repeating prayers and the words of hymns over and over again.

I joined the Christian Union at my sixth-form college, and at university, as well as two evangelical street theatre groups. Even at university, I spent hours studying the Bible and going through my prayer 'shopping lists', worrying because I had never converted anyone, or performed even a small miracle.

Finally, in my third year, I moved out of my college and into my fiance's house, which was quieter, so that I could concentrate on my studies more. As it turned out, I certainly got more time to study. I felt so guilty about moving in that I constantly argued with myself that it was against God's law for me to be there.

Eventually something in me seemed to snap, and I went from one extreme to the other, renouncing all my beliefs and claiming I was now an atheist. I refused to have anything to do with religion for the next 19 years.

That seems like a natural break point, and I'm exhausted, so - more next time.

The 'Female Schindler'

2008-05-22T14:40:00.000+01:00

The death has been reported of an extraordinary woman called Irena Sendler, known to many people as the 'Female Schindler'.

She was a Roman Catholic social worker who, by the time she was arrested by the Gestapo, had managed to smuggle 2500 babies and children out of the Warsaw ghetto, and have them rehomed under fake Christian identities. She kept secret records of their real Jewish names and families to enable them all to be reunited after the war.

She was 98 when she died, and still largely unknown, although she was nominated last year for the Nobel Peace Prize. The obituary I read quotes her as saying:

I was brought up to believe that a person must be rescued when drowning, regardless of religion and nationality.
The term 'heroine' irritates me greatly. The opposite is true. I continue to have pangs of conscience that I did so little.

Lakeland Quakers

2008-05-21T17:44:00.000+01:00

Griff Rhys Jones is currently presenting a wonderful series on BBC2 called Mountai n - I think it may be a repeat, as it's copyright 2007. Wednesday 14th's episode was about the Lake District.

6 or 7 minutes out of the hour-long programme was taken up with Griff talking about Fox, visiting the peak from which he spoke at Firbank Fell, and attending a meeting at the meeting house at Briggflatts. He talked to a number of Friends, including one young girl of perhaps 12, who spoke very clearly and simply.

It was done very sympathetically, and I feel that it was a marked contrast to the majority of mentions of people of faith in the media. Usually anyone with faith seems to be branded a bigot, an idiot, or a terrorist - or all three.....

The 123 meme

2008-05-20T18:17:00.000+01:00

I found this while mooching through some older posts on Chris M's blog. He kindly invited people to 'tag yourself' - so I have :)

Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!
Find page 123
Find the first 5 sentences
Post the next 3 sentences
Tag 5 people

My nearest book is a brilliant set of linked short stories called 'The Friendly Persuasion' by Jessamyn West. It was published in 1940, but is set around the time of the American Civil War, and it's about a Quaker family in Indiana. I bought it after I saw the film on a classic movie channel.

So, my extract reads:

'The Reverend Godley's got half the road and I ain't urging my mare.'

It depended on what you called urging. He hadn't taken to lambasting Lady with his hat yet, the way he had Red Rover, but he was sitting on the edge of the seat - and sitting mighty light, it was plain to see - driving the mare with an easy rein and talking to her like a weanling.

(This is about the father of the family, and his ongoing competition with the Reverend as to who has the faster horse. His wife is not happy about it!)

I'm going to follow Chris' example, for the same reason he gave - I can't remember who's done this and who hasn't, so by all means tag yourself :)

Why?

2008-05-19T01:12:00.000+01:00

Why 'Still Life'? Because this will be a blog dedicated to my thoughts, comments, insight and news concerning my Quaker beliefs and membership. Quaker Meetings for Worship are places of stillness and silence, hence 'Still Life'.

Why 'Still Life'? Because, although our Meetings are (mostly) silent, they hum with the life of the members gathered in an expectant silence.

Why 'Still Life'? Because I am pretty much bedridden, and I spend the majority of my time not moving about.

Why 'Still Life'? Because, despite my illnesses and the curtailment of my former activities.... this is still Life!