Nothing

It is often in the simplest of tasks, thoughts emerge that become challenges, ideas or solutions; where do they come from? I know most of my best ideas for resources, teaching or preaching, tend to formulate early in the morning while shaving. 

Clearly nothing comes from nothing so there must be a seed of thought, something that kicks it off. A word or phrase heard, an observation questioning, why does that happen that way? Listening to our mixture of emotions and wondering why they are knitted this way? There is a spiritual dimension too that seems external, yet personal at its core. If nothing comes from nothing, then our thoughts have purpose and should not be disregarded as random nonsense. 

I immerse myself in the quiet, appearing to be deep in thought; expecting at any minute a revelation that would drive me forward. I am now learning to continue with the practical and to be more aware of my thoughts, a little bit like solving a crossword puzzle.

Stillness

Runswick Bay N Yorks

The evening is still and as I stand in the quiet, distant sounds are clear to me. It is as if there is a circle of silence, that stretches for a mile or so. Beyond that, sounds are coming through the stillness; this whole experience, which is out of the ordinary, prompts me to be part of the quiet.

It is within the stillness, that the noise of the day begins to make sense and I recognise I need the quiet, and the solitude, to balance the turbulence each day brings.

Pearl

Value comes at a price.

A Pearl is created from an irritation; a grain of sand, an errant particle of food or a worm. The irritation is coated with nacre (mother or pearl) as a defence mechanism; to produce a pearl of great price.

“The most beautiful pearl is nothing more, in fact, than the brilliant sarcophagus of a worm.”

Raphael Dubois

Value comes from the least expected, not rejected.

Stress free pockets

Find stress free pockets.
Train journeys, buses, walking to-from meetings, washing up (haha).
These pockets of stress free air are provided for us to step into with an awareness of their purpose; without that, it just becomes another process.

Waiting for buses or trains, queues no matter how small - where do you go in your mind; coming up for air may be the freshest air you have inhaled because you have time to taste it.
You are knowing the benefit to your well-being of each breath - blowing out the stress and breathing in the peace.

In the balance

Age advances and as it does, the number of things we want to achieve grows. The space around us is littered with half started projects and interests; books, models, art and practical. The drawing board is so full, it is difficult to distinguish one item from another, until our gaze rests for a moment in one place; the guilt of non-completion. The drawing board extends to many places, cupboards, drawers, boxes and envelopes; it is as if they appear of their own accord to point out our limitations and weaknesses.

If I were to feel different about the unimportant things I have not completed or thought about starting and never got round to it. Is it just my head that is full of wanting to know more about everything; what would it profit me to know so much? Discarding the unimportant to focus on completion of what is important, seems a better plan.

It is difficult, perhaps not impossible to balance two round pencils, one across  the length of the other; the round surfaces are permanently on the move, rolling this way and that. [try it]. Six sided pencils are much easier to balance once the centre is found, we balance on the flat surfaces. The round surface has an infinite number of points, each one pushing the other as the challenge of balancing becomes an impossibility.

Life should become slower and my experience should be working for me, to be effective in the areas that are most important and content in not being active in others.

Note to morning office: Lord - help me find the flat areas in my life that support my balance in all things.

Olympic Torch

A few months ago now, at an inter-church meeting, a lady announced she had nominated me to run with the Olympic torch (me, run)? I hesitated and said yes that it was OK.
Time went by and the voting process went in my favour; this was starting to get worrying. You see, I am not an athlete and in everything I do, I like to be in the background; I have always said, I prefer to be behind the scenes, not a front man. The day came when my email confirmed I was to run with the flame and in the town where I work, people seemed so happy for me and I would not want to let them down.

I was thinking this morning how God has a sense of humour, throwing me into a place where for a short while, all eyes will be on me. As the day itself draws nearer, I am actually getting more excited and really looking forward to it (what a change). I enjoyed so much talking to year six recently in the local primary school; they had such wonderful questions and again it centred on me with the torch. I asked them if they ever got birthday cards from uncles or aunts far off? Almost all of them put their hand up; I asked what was important, the card or the postman? Also, what was important, the picture on the card or what your uncle wrote inside; children know the answers.

A bonus to this run (walk) is that I get to keep my Olympic torch as it is the flame that is passed from person to person; strange how such a simple act of sharing this light, draws such a large crowd of people. I have been invited to talk to young people at the youth club of my old parish next month (with the torch). Can't wait now - so excited - so much to share - haven't we all?

One thing I know: ... ...

Lindisfarne (Holy Island)

 Another few days spent in Northumberland; just wonderful, then back to work.
I was closing up the project tonight and a young person hung back, he said he had a question. It was the kind of question that he already knew the answer but wondered if I knew too. I was able to answer honestly and I saw the surprise on his face when I said I had never heard of that before. I smiled and said, despite my age, there are many things I do not know; I went on to quote Socrates "as for me, all I know is that I know nothing"; he looked blank at me so I tried to continue.

If I understand that I know nothing, then that puts me in a better position.
Listening to someone's opinion or subject of conversation, I try to make a match from my knowledge database and when I do, I lock onto it and then assume I know all there is to know about the subject and promptly switch off to the other persons dialogue. The result of this natural process is that I learn nothing.
I tried a few ways to explain this but the young man still looked blank, perhaps one day he will grasp these words of wisdom.

Oh yes, the question was regarding a fairground item by which one could win a cigar and the term I also had never heard - "Close but no cigar".

Note to evening office: Keep me empty so I may receive.

Beadnell Bay

Self reflection

A time this week for some more writing and progress with the book. The main character has journeyed into his past during the course of the day and brought forth a statement that will be the kernel of change, challenging his core belief structure.

There are more things that puzzle me, than that which I understand, and often I know that I know not; but I choose to continue in my not knowing, rather than delve into the why of it all.

A view into life

Edward Pearson (granddad) wrote this card to his daughter on the occasion of her birthday; he sent it from Cologne July 3rd 1919. The words at the bottom of the picture "Ein Blick ins Leben" (A view into life). The post card was among items gathered from mums house, like many more they were not in one particular place but interlaced with cards and photos of past and present. I really can't remember where the WW1 field compass came from, I am sure it does not have a family connection and more likely to be something I picked up in a shop when a boy.

Though these items are bound by the year 1919, they have not been left frozen in time but included in our moments of review. Our spirituality should not be frozen but warmly interlaced as part of our present moments, enabling completeness. Reading the words to Edwards dearest daughter brings out a warm glow and a view into life we would not normally see.

Each day we have opportunities to view into life and see people, situations in a different light. The picture above was composed for a photography competition around the subject Something old; I got more than just second place as it gave me the possibility to view life from different perspectives and that it is better to interweave than to segregate.

Thanks Granddad.

Change.

Springtime and change is all around us, ponds laden with frog spawn new buds on the trees and faint brush strokes of green among the hedgerows. It is difficult not to notice change on this scale, the whole of creation it seems to be on the move. I think I was around 7-years old when I first caught a frog and kept it in a bucket in the back yard, eventually my parents encouraged me to let it go and on our way to Ugthorpe, Freddy was released into a small stream at Guisborough. The photo above was taken while walking through Guisborough woods last weekend; who knows? it may be one of Freddy's descendants.

I have been suffering with back pain recently and our housekeeper Mrs Johnson suggested a long soak in the bath with some herbal bubbles; I usually shower so the thoughts of a bath never enter my head. Mrs J prepared the bath and called me when it was ready, a room full of steam and the smell of lavender was quite inviting. It was during this long soak that i began to wonder when did I grow so tall? My toes just under the taps and my shoulders resting securely at the other end; now I am only 5foot 4inches but thinking back I was always known as shrimp, so when did I grow? Growing up in Warwick Street Middlesbrough, we didn't have a bathroom and each Saturday night the old metal bathtub would be brought in and filled with hot water. I had my own enamel tin bath (the one that was used to carry the washing); bath time was great in front of the fire. But the question is still there, when did I grow?

We respond to change, generally after the event; how would it be if we were able to live the changes?

The old man

The action was a self portrait for a photo competition; nothing to do with creative writing, and here we are approaching another Easter and so little progress with the book. I have to point out quickly that the title of this post is not referring to me (though it certainly could) but to the writing desk/ bureau and book case. Throughout my memory years this piece of furniture has been referred to as "the old man". My paternal grand father (Edward) was a cabinet maker and served his apprenticeship at Harrison's Grosmont; his father (David) was an engine driver and lived by the river at Egton Bridge North Yorkshire. The old man can be dated as grand dad signed and dated the bottom left drawer October 1909. Harrison's had their own woodland in Grosmont and I expect that is where the timber would have originated.

The old man has purpose apart from being a thing of beauty, I always felt important and that I was doing something special, writing at  the desk when a small boy (one way at least to get my homework done). I wonder what grand dad would have thought about a laptop resting on the desk? He was a particular man, paying close attention to detail, the dovetail joints are as strong today as they were when he put them together; ageing has only added to the character even to the splashes of blue from the ink pots. Time spent in creation, be it wood working or writing is never wasted and serves purpose into the future.

Time has been invested in producing a piece of work that will be used in schools and youth centres; it is a piece of software entitled Life-SkillsLabyrinth (it is easier to give you this link than to begin to explain). In our work with young people, it was felt that many had missed some of the basic stepping stones of life and this is an attempt to replace them.

Note to morning office: Do not be afraid to put yourself into that which you create, that's how we get the best results.

Its for the birds

To be as free as a bird with all that sky, how must that feel? To rise on thermals and hold just one position, with only the slightest movement of the wings; to glide and turn effortlessly. Much more difficult for me to capture that with my camera, let alone imagine how it must feel. The truth of course is that this gull, is busy looking for food to sustain him, and spends most of the day doing just that. If we are honest, we probably have more free time than he ever will. I hear people say, "just give me 5-minutes" - "I never have time to myself" - "sorry I'm tied up at the moment". Trust me, life is not much different in the friary.

I love this picture, its all happening, taking to the air, landing, checking out the neighbours and the two at the bottom look like they are chatting; where do you figure in this group?

Brother Cyril is just standing, deep in thought, not sure even if the incoming tide will move him. Brother Michael however is the one at the bottom (facing front) probably giving instructions to the other who is trying not to hear. Where am I? I guess I would be the one at the edge left; swooping down and trying to decide whether to land or not.

Freedom is more a state of mind than a place to be, it takes practice, and it helps to have a place in mind. These birds gather at the waters edge, changing position with the ebb/ flow of the tide and maintain manoeuvres through land sea and sky.

Alignment

Jupiter, Venus & Moon

This evening saw a clear sky, revealing the wonders of the heavens. A special night as Jupiter and Venus draw close together; joined by a new moon and within a hands-span of each other.

I try not to get too technical with my interest in astronomy, just to enjoy the splendour of these distant jewels is sufficient in itself. Its good though, to know their names, as we become familiar with their positions and the shapes; we interpret these as giants and beasts. Stories are brought together and shared through generations; such a shame that our new understanding leaves behind these colourful mysteries.

Looking at these bright giants and immediately behind us, Mars is rising over the horizon. Some will tell us of the significance of this alignment and how it will impact on our lives; how much time we spend in such discussions each day, and miss the beauty of the event itself.

Note to morning office: Each day to value the brightness of others.

Friends

Its good to visit friends, especially when you have not seen them for some time. So much catching up to do, much of the conversation is in blocks of random information mixed with intense emotion; desperately trying to share everything at once. With very close friends, the process is a little different; often it is just about looking at each other and knowing. Catching up with Pete & Catherine at Northumbria Community was just that.

The added bonus of this weekend was to meet up with folk not yet known and coming away feeling I had found yet more close friends; there is something special about Nether Springs that exist not in the bricks and mortar, for they have not long moved into their new aboding. The tree above is in the adjoining field at Nether Springs and looked magnificent in the early morning sun and we can only imagine the extent of its root structure, invisible to the eye though source of all that is necessary to sustain its reaching branches.

All Saints Church Skelton in Cleveland

 Closer to home we are caught up in our normal routines, friends and acquaintances take on a different role, and their value is often diminished.

The tree is of two parts and one cannot exist without the other, drawing nutrition from both the earth and the sun and divided only by a thin surface layer.

Foundational archive

I am inspired by Dana's blog (Awareness) this morning and ponder on her term foundational archive. Similar thoughts were already swimming in my mind even before I read her wonderful piece, about the silver link between our senses and memories; being sparked by sights, sounds or smells and transported back to a memory.

The memories that made a difference, if I were to group them together, would almost certainly be about family and those close who were "always there". Uncles, great aunts, friends of our family that I grew up alongside; there was a knowledge that much of what happened had a purpose and was dependable. When things went a little off balance, there was a root to hold onto a branch to shelter under, something to climb and see things from a different place. So many people are already flooding back into my mind, times and places of togetherness, happy events; but even the sad times, there is peace.

How do we teach this to our young generation? Have we lost the skills or the will to share these moments, to build foundational archives for generations to come. It seems to me that there has been such a gap in time when this way of living has been left to one side, we can blame the technological age, materialism or pressure of work; it still comes down to us. I also believe that the giving of self in this way, being there for those around us, provides us with a vitamin that cannot be purchased over a counter; a different kind of energy that you will not find in a gym. So remember those times, value and treasure them; it is our turn to be those people.

Light beneath the canopy

Light beneath the canopy

Time has stood still only at this Blog space; elsewhere it has been moving at an alarming rate. I realised some time ago that time was against me in relation to achieving my goals, and embedded a sense of disappointment. My creative thoughts and ideas appeared on, what I imagined to be a large sheet of white paper and immediately blurred with everything else. I was not prepared to reduce the amount of ideas so in my mind, I created a much larger sheet of paper. Each one of us have ways of organising and visualising life and its demands, and to balance our own creative side is important.

Walking recently through the streets of Saltburn by the Sea (the back streets & alleyways to be precise) I noticed far more people choose the alleyways; there is a busy highway running through our town that you would not notice unless you stepped onto it. I was surprised who I met and will choose these streets more often.

Awaking early as I do this time of year, feels like the middle of the night. It is strange to see that we can see, much much further these dark times; light years in fact - to the distant stars. Durham was lit up this week and thousands flocked to see the amazing colours; I didn't stay long among the hustle and bustle, people with cameras, tripods, mobiles and an assortment of personal light sabres. I returned home to my own light show and my very large sheet of paper, which in itself contains a whole universe.

Durham

 

The morning sun

My eyes are squinted at the bright morning sun.

What filters will I use today to distort the brightness of others.

Pedestrian

I am walking and listening, and most of the sounds are part of the background mush; occasionally something is brought to the foreground and then sent back.

The sound of my old sandals caught me by surprise, it is a personal sound and made up of many parts. The left and the right steps have their own signature and the combination of leather and flesh creates something close to a squeak, but not. The side-walk and the soul beat together as the body swings in time.

I may be recognised by the rhythm, the sway, tempo and shape from a distance; something I am totally unaware of. So it was good to listen, as I walked; beginning to recognise part of me that others see.

Books & Knowledge

Today a wonderful book arrived by special delivery from some very good friends; a simple note inside saying “Saw this and thought of you”.

It’s a third edition, original printed in 1947 so circa 1956-65. Radio Television and Electrical repairs; it made me smile. As a boy I had a keen interest in short wave radio and enjoyed pulling things to bits to see how they worked; I did manage to make a few things too. This lead to an apprenticeship in Radio TV and Hi Fi servicing and books such as these were essential to feed the mind.

I remember college clearly and wondered just how I was going to figure everything out, there was so much of it and they used such strange words and formula. I gathered many such books and subscribed to magazines to keep abreast of new ideas. Still it was a struggle to me, others seemed to grasp concepts quickly and move on; I knew all the answers were in the book. Trying to race ahead, looking at the pictures, making some sense in my own head was not a good strategy as I only became more confused. Final year exams were tense but the results were a pass and I qualified.

It is strange today looking at these books and still thinking, I don’t understand it all. I guess reading is not my preferred learning style (something that was never thought about in my day). Looking at my collection of books, I know they contain much knowledge. To sit down and transfer that knowledge into workable, usable skills and benefits is a struggle and sometimes I think I collect the books, in the hopes that the knowledge will just magically seep out and become part of me.

Before we can learn we must first learn the language in which the subject is taught.

NB. A great day at Saltburn by the Sea today as it was 150 years since the first Steam train pulled into this very new Victorian town 1861 and Saltburn became the fastest growing Victorian town in England.

Little people

This weekend has seen a young family staying with us, two small children and a large dog; there has been much fun and I don’t know how we kept our energy levels going. I opted for what I thought would be an easy option; walking the dog. He is an extremely large long haired German shepherd but a trifle nervous despite his stature. He walks very well on the lead till something spooks him, then he rears up like a horse and lurches to the side; but we managed to complete a 3-mile walk (twice). I enjoy walking, time to think, but not with a dog such as this.

We decided it would be a good option to take the children out, run some energy off them and get some fresh air. I dressed the little girl and managed very, I thought; only to be told the Velcro  belt I had put round her was in fact a head band, she was more impressed with it round her middle and refused to have it on her head (I have started a new trend). Our trip onto the North York Moors took us through Danby and a chance to see sheep being sheared, wood carved and many country crafts, the children just wanted the swings that are there every time.

Onward to Hob Hole and the best part of the day, throwing stones in the beck and trying to fly a kite in very little wind, you can just imagine me running with the string and the young boy chasing the kites shadow as it darts over the grass. Larger stones make bigger splashes and you can’t throw them so far; so we all ended up a little wet. Time for home and some tea. I tried to explain about Hob Hole and how mischievous goblins used to live there, the 5-year old wanted to know more; where are they now? I began one of my stories that I had chased them away when I was a young boy, so how old were you and were they invisible, how did you see them, where did you get the magic glasses from.. .. .. I didn’t bargain for the inquisition but managed to cover most of it and promised a bedtime story about the whole episode.

Meal times were a riot and although all around the table were well behaved, the routine and actions were very different to the norm. It seams the whole friary has been turned upside down (in a nice way). It is always a challenge to experience something different, stepping out of our usual run of things, especially when it is for the benefit of others. Soon the friary will return to how it was, comfortable and predictable. I wonder how good it is for us to live in a predictable status?

Alnmouth Friary

I sit in the library at Alnmouth friary, a room that has not changed in its purpose since its beginning. On both sides of this great bay window, nothing much has changed in almost 100 years. Some of the surface material of course is new, furniture, books, and outside, a golf course and greenery. Coquet island in the distance maintains its shape and the stone work of the window frames our view; the clouds have many different shapes but their familiar types denote our weather.

This is one of my favourite places and I think it is more to do with the quality of silence. Its 6am and the faint smell of incense lingers from last night’s lucinarium, (the chapel being immediately below me) and the echoes of plain chant still in my mind. There was a moment last night, at the end of the service, I did not want to leave; the everyday distractions were so far away from me, they had no hold.

I notice three young men approach the waters edge and cast their lines as far out into the sea as they can; the tide is on the turn. A little farther out in the estuary, a host of sea birds are performing intricate aerobatics and diving for fish. The spray of white foam as they plunge into the water is quite impressive, even from this distance. The movement and excitement is like an underwater firework display, some going in two or three at a time. This was a great treat for me, to witness a great mastery of both air and sea; climbing so high, to turn (almost back flip), dive and at the last minute, with wings swept back – splash.

In contrast, the advancing tide is no more than a smooth ripple, the gentle morning light shimmering across its surface, but slowly, and persistently, it pushes in; the two men with their cameras begin to retreat. I am reminded too that I also must retreat from this place, into the world that is my life, I take with me many things, the sights, sounds, and taste and smell, the conversations, laughs and thoughtful moments. I have appreciated company while still finding time for solitude; this silent place touches into the fabric of our soul and feeds us. The rhythm of the tide reminds us that this is a much needed part of our life and should not be an optional extra or fashion accessory.

Stepping into this different routine of prayer and silence is like trying one an old overcoat, that someone else has moulded; there is a surprise at how well it fits. Silence is kept between nine pm and nine am, breakfast in silence is not so strange if you don’t think about it. The silence drives thoughts to the emptiness, where speaking normally resides and presents us with a different level of awareness. Discipline in a routine, how ever that may fit into our life, will always overflow into the rest of our life, (in this case) becoming more content and focused. So do not trouble your mind with what will be; attend to the now, in serenity and confidence that Gods will is being effective in the moment.

Coquet Island.

Time

Early morning and I am awake before the alarm again. Anticipating the chime and hanging on the moment to see if it will strike now.

In this moment I am picturing a clock makers shop, its not the kind of shop that displays its products for sale, but a range of time pieces from small to large, ornate to plain and very old classic to not so old. These are all cared for by the clock maker and wound

till almost tight (just right). The ticking of each clock is adjusted with fine attention, counting the seconds and giving substance to the passing of time.

Some of the clocks chime on the quarter hour and some on the hour; the time being set by the same clock maker. Although each clock counts the seconds, some tick at double speed and some seem very slow indeed. The moment has arrived - the o'clock marker and each clock, in its turn chimes, strikes; making its own sound in its own time. The room fills with individual sound, moving around the room as some begin moments before others, chimes in quick succession, longer and deeper ones; until silence save the ticking once more.

Note to morning office: Thank you for my individual time.

Light pervades

Morning office:

Strange light this morning, the sun is risen,

light is diffused and spread evenly across the horizon.

It is as if light itself has been pressed and made uniform.

How will my day be levelled that I can see things in balance?

 

Too Late Posts

The month is almost through and I seem to have written very little; at least here. Time has been spent in developing a new resource to be launched in September, I have also completed my Master Practitioner training in NLP – that was quite, an amazing journey.

Note to morning office:

Don’t seek a new piece of land to conquer and make it productive;  instead, seek to regenerate what you already have.

Note to evening office:

The prayer book we use is not what's important; its the opening, turning the page, and giving time to God.

Saltburn Pier

A challenging day; I took a short walk to the upper promenade.

Gazing at the pier stretching out into the sea, I saw its stability and determination to be nothing but a pier. It has no wheels or moving parts but people journey on this wooden deck; to look back at the town buildings and the bustle of life.

This structure has the ability, to take you to another place, above the land and the sea - and by its own position, to view things from a different corner.

Just what I needed.

Dufton Pike

A lovely weekend, spent with friends. Times of sharing thoughts and dreams, concerns and choices, interspersed with laughter and love of one another.

Dufton Pike was too inviting, despite the strong wind; worth every step.

I could barely stand at the top as the wind took my breath away. The rest of the small band of travellers set off on the decent, I stayed awhile to take in the experience, intent on revisiting this experience throughout the coming weeks.

 

Psalm 2

O Spirit of God’s eternal springtime heart, grant me the virtue of elasticity. Make my heart as boundless as my Beloved’s heart which at this moment is creating new galaxies and infant suns.

Stir my mind well with your sacred spoon to awaken the fermentation of ideas. Stirred by the ten thousand little compromises required for me by the stiffness of the old leathered skins of society and religion.

In the bag

I awoke this morning to the image of and extraordinarily large bag, so big I was able to climb right inside it. The bag was indeed large and empty, but there in the corner, between the stitching of the material was a precious stone.

I stood in the emptiness of the bag, holding everything, in my hand.

Note to morning office: Consider today emptiness and much may be achieved.

My Window

I was sitting in my old chair, deep in my room - surrounded by my memories, furniture, pictures and books; withdrawn and safe within my world created.

The window surrounded by fabric and walls, allows light into this world of mine. 

The morning sun in its colours of gold orange and yellow cast shadows that move swiftly across my world.

From where I sit, the view through my window is limited; occasionally a bird will fly past or circle in the distance.

Noises outside bring curiosity, and I rise to approach my window.

I breathe in familiar senses of this beautiful NEW world that is my present future.

A million shades of green

Laughter abides in the tree at the bottom of our garden;

the cracking and popping of the buds and the rapid change in its shades of green.

The distant view through its branches, takes on a filter of foliage;

change is here, and what we now see, is something quite different.

Time

Almost a week ago I began, not for the first time – a journey into rather than away from. Though the week was spent with others, it was very much time for self; the others, provided the reflection necessary, for the internal reference.

A story told, crammed with metaphors, lead us through fields to an old house; cared for by a very special couple. Visitors were clearly changed having spent time at this magical place; it was as if they could take some of the very fabric of the building with them. Cases packed, taxi waiting in the drive, each one carried out much more than they had brought. 

Returning to places that have been important to us, is not always that easy. The woman in the story, after leaving the old house, paused on a bridge and gazed into the water; seeing herself looking back at her becoming.

This evening was spent at a Vin Garbutt gig, which I thoroughly enjoyed; he saved the best till last and sang “What’s the use of wings”.