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.