In - between

The old friary has many rooms and over the years, changes have been made. The corridors twist and twine through the house opening here and there - rooms without doors. The third floor (up in the eaves) is not used except for storage, books, files and boxes; Michael says we will have a sort out one day, but it will take so long that no-one mentions it any more. Some would say this place has character, others that it is in need of modernising or at least re-decoration.

Nooks and crannies, passages and cubbyholes; a living area and eating quarters, a place to rest and through this place we call home - a place to meet. It is all too easy to see the friary as a working place, a function we are called into and to be part of.

I tend to stride from one end of the building to the other, more intent on the ending than the journey; what I must do when I get there; prepare the dinner, layout the vestments, prepare the alter, weed the garden or harvest some peas. I am beginning to focus on the 'in between times' the journey to and from these events.

Brother Cyril seems happy for me to ramble on about all the things I have been busy with and more, the things I have yet to do. "Sit down for a minute" he will say, "take the weight off your feet", but I don't.
Perhaps the journey need not be so fast, as I pass through the rooms and corridors, do I notice the changes or the things that have always been?

We are like a house with many rooms, busy with our lives and paying more attention to the end result rather than the journey. I am due to go on retreat shortly and I am really looking forward to the 'in between times'.
Note to evening office, Lord may you find me in the in between times.

Don’t follow me (I’m lost too).

I have been wondering what I can tell you about life at the friary and how I can make it interesting; I would not want this to deteriorate into a soap opera – though I understand some soaps did start this way (oh my life)! Heartbeat started out as short stories and Herriot the veterinary. Fr Ted of course is totally fiction and has no basis in real life, written by comedy writers Arthur Mathews and Graham Linehan, who were educated by Vincentian and Marist’s.

Life is how we live it, and in the realms of the friary and monastery I have always (as long as I can remember) had the invitation “Come and see” the life has always called to me – come and see.

Jesus only ever said one thing: “come, follow me” and if the friary, monastery or home says one thing, should it not be – come and see.

How do we live together? I am sure you would like me to express the entire holy and perfect relationships, activities and completeness of our community. Sorry to disillusion you, we are just human and fall short in many ways. We have a structure in prayer, worship and devotion. There are formats for most of our way of life (our rule) but these can be empty if our way with each other is without grace.

We are not always good at recognising each other’s needs and prefer to charge ahead with our own images and agendas. Penitent workers in the vineyard is a good description, as through our format / structure we bring to mind our shortcomings on a daily basis.

We can feel safe within a structure and keeping strictly within the guidelines, we can blame someone else if things go wrong. Jesus teaching takes on the shape of a heart into which we are called – Come follow me.

Note to evening office, when I am looking at formats and structures, picture a heart.

From black holes

Out in the friary garden, you may remember is a silver birch that is about five years old now. I had a closer look at it this week, and realised it needed setting free from the plastic cover that has kept it strait these past years. I carefully worked through the plastic with a sharp knife, trying hard not to nick the young bark (as if it would shout at me)? There was no doubt the plastic had to be removed, but what about the wind? It gets very windy in these parts and it is still a young tree.

Is it my intention for this tree to grow strait and tall and become a classic shaped silver birch?
I look around; and the trees I tend to photograph are the interesting ones, the ones that have been shaped by prevailing wind and toughened by the weather. If I were to grow a bonsai tree, I would try to shape the growth using strong wire frame etc (you experts can correct me on that one). We are what we are as a result of what life throws at us and often better - for the not so good stuff.

Brother Cyril has been off on one recently telling me about beginnings and ends and what it might be like to travel through a Black Hole (my goodness). He was carefully explaining his theory and I know Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle all spoke about the world being spherical; so I had some notion how these guys must have felt when no one took any notice. I was being sucked into Cyril's theory, what if he is right?

I am pretty much like the next man and live my life based on my life expectancy; with a load of life experiences thrown in for good measure. Now if what Cyril is suggesting is true, would this affect the way I live, what would change, should there be a change as a result of this new information?
"This is getting too much for my little head Cyril" and I left him down the garden.

But seriously, how do we respond to new information? Even now reading the bible, I see things I haven't seen before and yes it challenges me - even events in the newspaper challenge my thinking. How do I respond?
It is easy to turn a page, switch the channel or give some glib remark. Is anything going to change in me?
If an event in our lives results in no change, should it ever have happened?
Note: take two panadols tonight before evening office.

Freedom

Moorland heather, sheep and grouse; Seagulls and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks. Wind in the trees and the smell of fresh cut hay. Things of value with no need of a price tag; time spent with friends without saying a word, a look - a glance and a knowing. I know these things are important to me and I am sure they are to you but where does it come from, how do we learn (its as if it has always been there). Coming down from the moorland towards the sea, it was quite early one morning and there before me in the rising sun; a large expanse of sand, the light shimmering across where the tide has just been. A solitary figure out in the middle of it all consumed in the art of Tai Chi. There was something quite beautiful about the movement, but it was more than that. An unexpected sight, but it was more than that. Poetry - a friend of mine says, dance like no-one is watching; now we are getting close. This person must have a sense of freedom and peace, to be able to be in full view of the world (taking it all in) yet be solitary and focused in the movement and process of the art. Oh boy, I wish I could do that! That is what it was, I would love to experience that, but dare I?

Occasionally at the friary we have a group of visitors that join us for evening service, sometimes this number is such that the singing really lifts the roof. You could not say I have a good voice; two brothers and I when walking one day and decided to break into song, we caused a small stampede of cows in an adjacent field. So when everyone is in full flood, I feel safe to let go and it does feel good. It feels like my worship is coming from me and God and I don't care what it sounds like, I am wearing a different set of ears. It is as if it is being drawn from me rather than being pushed out.

I am free to choose my friends, free to come and go, free to have my opinions and if I wish, say so.
The open spaces, the wind and the birds all cry out freedom; why then do I feel tied, bound and gagged.
The weight is heavy, the pressure is great, surely it will take a huge effort to release me. I am feeling empty when I know I have the capacity to be overflowing, I know as far as I am able that I am loved without condition.
Note to evening office: break the chains, loose the ropes. Be all you are created to be (in His love).

Window gazing

Early hours here at the friary and my body is saying sleep yet my head is buzzing with all sorts of junk (bit like satellites orbiting our world). The cat is on the prowl and has been in to let me know, he has a habit of stretching out and digging his claws into me, guess I'll go down and put some biscuit in his bowl. The weather is very calm tonight and I can see clouds brewing, the wind has shifted slightly and I would not be surprised to see more heavy rain. Feel this is going to be a short note at least to pass on my latest news. I have managed to start a "Blog" (with a little help from brother Micheal).


What is a Blog? I guess it is a website of sorts / a journal of writings / pictures / links to others and you get to leave comments if you wish. So I have backed up my blithering so far and included some of my photo's. I guess the next thing to consider is; do I continue sending emails or would you prefer to look at the blogspot occasionally? This got me thinking about relationships and how they tend to fade when your not around each other. I went to a family function recently and cousins, nephews and nieces were all saying, why do we have to wait for weddings and funerals to see each other; we should meet at least twice a year for no reason at all. Then we leave - until next time. Awaiting your feedback on the question mark...

Windows are interesting things and I often find myself taking photo's through windows; looking at the view, but limiting it by the window frame. You can change the view depending where you stand or, crouch down to see only sky. The closer you stand to the window the more you see. Life experiences affect us in different ways, sometimes we retreat back from the window perhaps so we can't be seen or that we can't deal (at present) with what life is throwing at us. Other times we are right there up front and taking in all the richness of life and the window is no longer part of the picture. But the window does exist and it's ok to pull back, take stock. Mmm, worth a little more thought on that one, must go an feed that cat.
Note to evening office: remember to draw the blinds, sun wakes me up too early these mornings.

19 July

Brother Cyril, you do the strangest things.

Breakfast time at the friary varies depending on how many of us are around; this particular morning we were all together. Mrs Johnson had brought some fresh eggs (local eggs from the village). I do like a boiled egg and soldiers, which is where Cyril came in “Atenn-shunn”! There on the table next to my two-boiled eggs were a dozen plastic soldiers, Cyril chuckling behind his newspaper. What could I say; I don’t even want to guess where he got the soldiers. Thought you would like that he said; oh yes; I did (you do the strangest things).

I have been up to my eyes in shavings recently and missed my time at the keyboard, whether you have missed me or not, I am sorry (for us both). You see I have been busy learning new skills and techniques, terminology and other words that could also have ended in ology. To fashion a piece of wood, chisel to shape; to draw out a vision, to smooth and polish lifting the colour and grain (encouraging something to the surface).
Learning the skill of the tools, finding the wood that is ready; but how do you know when you have finished? I forgot to ask my teacher that one!

Life at the moment seems almost boringly busy (does that make sense)? I am so busy that I can’t get anything done. I decided to make a list and ran out of paper and then thought I could have at least done two jobs instead of doing the list. Is this an age thing? I hope so; the alternatives don’t look good. Mother Teresa always said, when things get really busy we must find more time to pray. I do believe that it is important to find specific time for self and God, self & self and others. Trying to hold some balance, if I am not tending to my own time with self I will feel cheated and angry in other areas, lacking in motivation and not very effective (this is beginning to sound familiar). We have talked about time out before, there is veg-out, which is not very productive, a bit like having a great big meal; enjoyable but I didn’t really need it. Quality time-out with self must be like taking yourself to the sauna, tending to the joints that ache. When did I last have an overhaul? I listen to the knocking noise in the car but I don’t often listen to my groans and pops!
Note to diary: Book some time in for self and not as part of evening office.
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8 July

Measuring Growth

Late again, thanks for being patient. The weekend took me away (as it were) and I found myself staying only an hour or so from the friary. Yes it was good to be away, if only for a short while. The humble abode (a haven of rest) was a small timber based structure close to river and woodland and I was able to take in some of the scenery. Around 8.30pm I was treated to the sight of four curlews screeching and soaring; Wow! what a feeling , curlews have to be a special favorite of mine and to see four was just amazing.

On to something more basic, the bathroom in this small habitat brought back memories from over 50-years; the smell was just like that of my Aunt Agnes's bathroom, I sometimes stayed with her when I was a child. Perhaps it was the wooden structure, you see Agnes and Bill lived in (what used to be) a WWII hut converted into a very nice bungalow. Tongue and groove wood paneling throughout the house, in fact I remember with my index fingers I could touch both walls of the long passage that ran from the kitchen to the lounge. It made a great sound as I ran from one end to the other (we darn't do it when Aunt Agnes was about). How strange how our senses can transport us back so quickly.

Back at the friary a little mopping up was in order as the continuous rain found its way through our old roof, Jim the local handy man is on his way, or so his wife keeps telling us. He does a good job and will be worth the wait and the forecast is a little better.

It will be five years since we planted the silver birch as a small sapling; I have watched its growth from the kitchen window. From my line of sight it was easy to plot its progress against fences and a building just across from us. It has now (by my line of sight) reached the roof top. There is nothing now to compare the hight of the tree or monitor its growth, what am I going to do? How important was it for me to monitor its growth so far? It didn't help the tree one bit, it managed quite well without me and I am sure it will go on long after I am gone. Children grow up fast, from crawling to toddling - walking to running and before long you are talking face to face. I remember a silver birch in our garden many years ago, this one was good for climbing and I managed to get a rope over one of its branches to make a swing. I got to know the silver birch, the leaves were a delicate shade of green and the bark seemed to be wrapped around the trunk and splitting, curling off, silver. From curlews to silver birches and aunt Agnes's wooden bungalow, just some of my favourite memories.
Note to memo pad: - Not to measure growth, but to appreciate it.