Sunday 22 February 2009

Where it belongs

A ticket for the church bazaar; I would be only 6-years old and can't say I remember it, though I am sure I would have been there. Mum and many ladies of the parish would have been knitting, sewing and making jars of produce through the year, I am told it was a bazaar of great quality and variety. Presents would be bought and put away till Christmas. A ticket, almost 50-years old; to admit one person for just one shilling. I don't think eBay will be interested in it; so where has it been for all these years? Well it has been just where it belonged, in a drawer in the desk and why, I have no idea, but I was glad to find it - and leave it right there (apart from sharing this glimpse of it with you). It is possible that this was the last bazaar held under the name St Philomena as the Holy See in 1962 removed her name from all liturgical calendars; St Philomena's School and Church became The Sacred Heart.

I was wondering (as I do) how much difference there is between nothing and something? Can we really imagine, nothing? the absence of everything. The great film "Never ending story" fears the approaching "nothing", every thing is consumed by it and within it is - nothing - Nothing must be the state we fear most, but never experience in the physical; what we create/ experience, mentally/ spiritually can be something else.

There is little difference between nothing and something, because that something may be very small indeed. But of course the difference is huge, for no matter how small something may be, held in the hand, it gives us hope and puts us a million miles away from nothing.

Note to evening office: Romans 8:38-39 - He took the nothing, that we should have hope.
PS - Looking forward to Lent.
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Sunday 15 February 2009

THE POST

The walk this evening was pleasant, one of these cold crisp nights that catch your breath. I needed to post a letter (I knew I would forget tomorrow) so I set off up the High Street. There is a post box some 300-yards from us but the notice on the box implied a late collection next day.

The moon was just past full and casting a glow on the parish church, still in the trees were Christmas lights; the glass reflecting the moonlight. Doors open and lights on at the public house but no sound of music or chatter. Someone heading towards me, head down and sending a text; which side shall I step, left or right? "Now mate" he said as he passes; I swear I do not know him. Now post boxes used to display the time of the next collection, but here again it just says Monday - Friday last collection 4.30pm. I am sure it would have been fine to pop the letter in the first box.

Photograph above is blending two pictures, the stepping stones and the viaduct. A walk into town through the woods one fine morning the other week. I was interested in the footprints laid ahead of me; one on each of the stones across the stream. Leading me on, even though it was a route I had already decided on.

Note to morning office: Lead me on Lord this day, however I may step; left or right.
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Tuesday 3 February 2009

Come and see.


Last weekend we had a lodger, a four legged one roaming around the friary; intent on finding the cat. Situation resolved, the cat lived upstairs and Poppy lived downstairs; that is until bedtime. Poppy was used to sleeping in the bedroom so there was a little shuffling of doors, cat & dog until morning when the process was reversed. Brother Cyril was much amused and suggested leaving them in a room together for a few minutes. I needn't have fussed so much for when they did meet, apart from the noise there were no claws or teeth to be seen. She was good company and joined me on my evening walk through the village.

We have had snow, gales, rain - you could say we have had a lot of weather recently. Just the other night as I put the dog in the garden, our tawny owl was hooting for all he was worth only 15-yards away from me, silhouetted against the clear sky. The easterly wind has brought the cold and it is strange to see the waves coming in diagonal to the shore. Yesterday a flock of Lapwings were heading to the moors and the seagulls were charging around as if on a roller-coaster.

I am prompted by my friends blogsite "Awareness" when she uses John O'Donahue's words:-

"The Mystery never leaves you alone. Behind your image, below your words, above your thoughts, the silence of another world waits. A world lives within you."


I seem to pop in and out of other worlds as easy as getting on a bus. My teacher used to say, "Boy! where in the world are you today"? Portal is a fascinating word, we are very familiar with Si Fi time-shifts, dimensions, warps and portals. TV programmes such as Stargate, Dr Who and Primeval. Computer jargon uses it - in fact, throw this word into a sentence and it will be regarded as impressive. Portal: The word meaning gate or gateway, doorway, entrance, particularly one of great importance; the entrance to a library, portal of knowledge. I see portals everywhere I look; windows, trees, music, art, words, people, emotions, candles. Each one inviting me to step through the doorway and enter in. I know they are there but my busy world causes me to walk right past; dare to pause for a while........


Note to evening office: Behold I stand at the doorway and knock - enter in.
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