Monday's A Go!

Photo by West Midlands Buses in Photographs

(Apologies.  This is a bit long!) 

A Monday morning with the snow slowly dribbling away underfoot,

a damp mist hovering and clinging,

and we had to make a trip into town to the bank.

I'm still a week away from being allowed to drive after surgery so,

not wanting to trouble folks who've offered us transport
should we need it,

and being of the generation who think taxis an extravagance,

we opted to go by bus.

We were at the stop in time but waited for over half an hour,

and as the two buses which should have come didn't,

we hopped on one going somewhere else,

and re-routed just to get in out of the cold.

Two buses and an hour or so later,
(we did have a cuppa stop),

we reached our destination
having taken just over four times as long as usual.

On the way back we found there have been no buses going our way

for over forty minutes,

but when a bus did come,
rather than leave us to shiver the driver generously 

allowed us all to cram in,

although it was already standing room only.

Jammed together like un-oiled sardines

there was much grumbling, and joking;

comparing details about the length of wait,

and much polite helping one another 

to squeeze further down the bus,

or towards the exit should some unfortunate

need to insinuate themselves between the shopping bags,

bodies, and baby buggy
to get off.

(How DO people give each other a sense of boundaries
whilst pressed against each other,
  swaying and grabbing at anything within reach to stay upright?
It must be in keeping the eyes averted.)

Sure enough a lady in a cheerful red coat warned me
not to look directly at a certain man.

"There's something not right there.

He's apt to be very abusive if you catch his eye."

A muscular young man offered his arm to steady

an elderly lady, 

whilst another used colourful language to regale
anybody within earshot about his trip

to see his probation officer,
and how he needed to get to court

"to iron some things out". 

Fearful of either encouraging him to further familiarity 
or upsetting him by ignoring him,
those near him made vague reciprocal noises while,
yes, avoiding his eye.

Women's voices,
the older fabric of the mini comunity created a 
comforting warp and weft,
 
"Did you go last night Eileen?"
"I did not..."


"Can you believe I only went into town for
one fancy button for that cardi I'm knitting..."

Next to me a slim young mum with toddler in tow

squashed by my side

and managed to juggle her mobile phone to her ear

and assure a school that she WAS on her way 

to pick up her other child.

Another pale faced young mum jiggled the buggy
with increasing anxiety

as her babe's cries grew more frantic.

And there we were, brought to a halt,

caught in the mess of traffic
and held in some sort of un-wanted intimacy

by a series of road works.

Eventually, windows streaming with condensation,

  we began to inch our way out of the gridlock.

  Tucked into a corner behind the driver I 
saw how after battling to make the exit
from their far from comfortable journey,
at every stop, almost without exception,
despite their haste each passenger turned their head 
to thank the driver.

"Most of the world remains unknown to us.
Most people remain strangers.
This is one of the shocking things about travel;
....we can descend...
right into the middle of an  ongoing life.
...This is the fascination of encounter...
The stranger can bring blessings and encouragement.

...(or) destruction and negativity."

John O'Donohue.

Go Well~Be Blessed

P.S.  In mitigation of West Midlands Transport my daughter who travels on two buses each day to and from work, tells me our experience was unusual; and I think if I'm fit to undergo yesterday I'm more than fit to drive, don't you?

Winter's Promise

This morning as I looked out on the frozen world 
beyond my window my attention was caught by the seeming lifelessness before me, and I found myself thinking,
what seems frozen and lifeless

can become

  warm and radiant with life again

 if we just remain open,

even a little, 
and wait.

But I know the very thought of being open ever again,

even to the softest touch,

can sometimes be too much for us.

We can feel too bruised,

too empty to take the risk.

All we feel able for is staying in the numbing dark.

And indeed at times there is healing in that...

So I began to write my thoughts,

and got as far as posting them,

but unsatisfied,

I returned to my laptop and on impulse
went to a wonderful blog, I often dip into,

http://blueeyedennis-siempre.blogspot.com

only to find it dealing with exactly the thoughts
I'd had pressing on me,

but much better, and in greater depth.

Feeling this was more than just coincidence
I jettisoned my earlier post and

if you feel moved to, do click on the link

and take some of the wisdom and comfort offered there, 
either for yourself, 
or to enrich and inform your prayers for those in need.

Or perhaps if that's too much to take on board

you can listen to 

"Lay Your hands gently Upon Us"

 

 and let that speak.

 *

As gently as the snow falls here at this moment,

so gently may the green shoots 

of our healing

be covered,

and nurtured,

this week end.

Monday,Monday

Well here we are.

Another Monday morning.

Just now Hubby is in the garden and I'm pottering indoors.

We rub together pretty well on our 24 / 7 existence

given we are two very different temperaments and backgrounds,

but even as we come up to our 50th anniversary this year,

inevitably now and then we clash.

Even when we don't actually clash

I am sometimes really disappointed at my pettiness and inherent selfishness.

It was these shortcomings that played on my mind as I was

walking in the park over the weekend.

The damp pathways were glistening silver at my feet

as the winter sun cleaved the clear air.

As ever when a sunlit way opens before me I remembered 
Prov.4:18.

"The path of the righteous"...

Given that the dictionary definition for "righteous" is, -

"Morally upright; without guilt or sin,

In accordance with virtue or morality"

I saw many more pot holes, 

patches of rubble, and grit,

in my inner-heart pathway 
 than the glowing way of 

"rightness/righteousness" of love,

which I long for.

Even as I acknowledged this lack,

other words,( this time from Mal 4:2 ),

swam into my consciousness.

"But for you who revere My name,

the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings;

and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall".

 In a flash I saw how

 looking for rightness of being within myself,

 gets me bogged down

in unproductiveof guilt or regret;

whereas once I am aware of my flaws,

  if I own them,

I can turn quickly
to the source of all love and forgiveness,

which I know as God.

Then, rather than hugging to myself the chill

of self loathing and judgement

I can allow myself to be warmed by the embrace of 

the healing and ever ready love

that given time,

will reflect 
the very sun of righteousness in me.

I don't know about you,

but I quite like the thought of skipping like a calf

newly let out into the open too.

I may not have broken out into a skip

as I continued on my walk,

but my heart was singing a better song.

I hope this week's path will shine under,

and before your feet,

with a beautiful rightness.

P.S.  Blogger publisher is acting up today so the only way I can upload this powerful song called 
"Don't Be Afraid of the Light Wihin You" 
is to ask you to click on this link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8It3VIZLnI&feature=player_embedded

In My Small Corner

Whenever I am tired or below par

I am tempted to see my life as of very little significance.

The many beautiful, well-crafted  blogs I discover 

as I sit taking my enforced rests with my laptop,

testify that I do not live in an area of outstanding beauty,

have no great scholarship to draw from,

or varied travels and social whirl to report.

As it is there are many days 

when the  boundaries of my life

  lie no further than front and back doors of our home.

Within these confines

  I find such wealth I

 I sometimes feel guilty 

that restlessness comes so rarely

given the multitude of things I have never done;

never seen.

My ego whispers that my life,

(so small),

is wasted, 

with it's hours, days, weeks, months,

in quiet rooms.

I cannot even justify these hours as being 

as prayer-filled and faithful as I would like,

but only as open as I can keep them

to the other,

rather than to the self.  

It is the only path I know,

so Rilke's words come like balm.

 "What should I say about your tendency to doubt your struggle

or to harmonize your inner and outer life?

My wish is ever strong that you find enough patience within you

and enough simplicity to have faith.

May you gain more and more trust in what is challenging,

and confidence in the solitude you bear.

Let life happen to you.

Believe me: life is in the right in any case." 

(Rainer Maria Rilke) Letters to a Young Poet

Be Blessed

A Weekend Break -(for the week?)

A dull day, damp day, with a rough wind tousling the trees.

Not much doing really.

Can' t drive for a few weeks yet,

and waiting for the bus doesn't appeal in this weather.

So here I am at leisure again,

(rather tired after pushing the post-op. boundaries if truth be told.)

Time to take time then, if I will but learn. 

As if to give me lessons

in letting things take their course,

this streptocarpus leaf, which has been sitting, apparently just idling it's time away 

since I put it in a pot months ago,

has  produced 

these baby leaves.

I guess a weekend can get full of pressure

because of the expectations we have

of how much we can get done in this precious time.

Sometimes we need to take our foot off the gas 

and see what will happen when we let things take their course.

The simple realisation that

we don't have to take it all on our shoulders,

because truly that isn't our job,

can  be the best gift we can give ourselves.

May Your Weekend Be Blessed

Inscape

Don't feel up to visiting 

my beloved park today

so did myself a little sketch of

the winter shapes and colours

I'm missing.

I wonder can you see
the connections between the
two pieces? 

I think trees are planted 
in my 
subconscious. 


God Bless

The Crystal Garden

I am so delighted we at last have the heathly frosts we need for the

good of the ground and plants that I couldn't resist grabbing the camera to capture the frosty corners of the garden which still lingered at 4 o'clock this afternoon.

 As you can see from these few glimpses, 

I have a garden of two halves.

 In some spots the frost remains while in others it is

"a different country"

as my mother used to say.

For the first time ever I have a helebore niger which has survived to bloom a second year!

  It may not look like much yet but I have high hopes.

 As usual hubby's favourite camellias are in rosy fat bud,

 and just look at that delicious little nib of fuschia colour showing in

the winter drab at the end of the orange/red leaf's stem

These un-prepossessing little shoots peeping through the monbretia leaves are the sweet promise of snowdrops in bud,

while this little frosty garden has high-lighted the lichen 

grown atop our solar lights, 

explaining why even after the sunniest winter's day 

they have yielded no light to navigate the garden by.

Finally, wouldn't these crystal edged leaves

make a lovely design for a piece of jewellery?

Or is it only me?

God  Bless

Rooted in Love

 

These Tete a Tete daffs sit in a sunless window

adding their little flickers of sunny colour to the dining room.

My brother and niece brought them on their last visit

to "remind" me that I'm Welsh,

as if I need reminding!

I wonder,

is it possible to ever really forget our roots?

I think one of the loveliest things about getting older

is out-growing the notion that we must somehow

become radically different 

from who we were to start with.

 Our circumstances, 

even our parenting, or lack of parenting,

 may have left a lot to be desired,

but it is a sublime grace to grow in understanding

that even these deep griefs and scars

are not beyond healing,

and that after all 

WE WERE, AND ARE,

LOVABLE. 

Rumi writes:-

You were born with potential

You were born with goodness and trust

You were born with ideals and dreams 

You were born with greatness

You were born with wings

You are not meant for crawling, so don't
You have wings

Learn to use them and fly!

 

What better time than a new(ish) year 

to open ourselves to the tender green shoots

of glorious inner certainty

"... that you, being rooted and grounded in love,

 may be able to comprehend with all the saints

what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 

and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, 

that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God."

Eph 3:17 

Be Blessed

Into the Light

I have been home from hospital for a week and a day,

and I am feeling fine

after having some major repairs

and a full hysterectomy.

There I've said it!

named what used to be the unmentionable

"women's troubles".

Today the morning is beautifully sunny

after the first frost following the warm winter weather,

and so well am I

that I ventured a walk on my own

to skirt the top of the park.

My mind reached ahead of me

to past the walled garden

and the path with the view over the village,

but my body whispered a warning

that I would have to walk the same distance back

so I obediently turned onto a path

which brought me home. 

 Sitting sipping my tea 

I look over at the pinks 

my younger granddaughter Rachel bought me,

and rejoice in

the contrast of 
soft magenta

against the aqua walls.

So many contrasts in life.

This operation and recovery

so different
from the experience

last May.

Then, 

there was my difficulty with the anaesthetic,

and problems in the recovery room.

This time, the spinal block with no difficulties,

and news of a new general anaesthetic

which should be safe for the future.

Then, months of weakness and incapacity,

now, feeling unbelievably strong and well.

Shadow and light.
Light and shadow

My present recovery and feelings of well being

seem like a sunburst in my spirit

after the fear that I might again
have months of the "non-being" I had previously,

and the anxiety this caused hubby.
But...

And without the strength that grows
as we wait in the dark,

would we be illumined or transformed

by the light?

 Both light and shadow 

are the dance of Love. 

(Rumi )

God Bless

Thoughts for 2012 - or Any Other Year

We may not know what 2012 holds for us,

but this peom by St. Teresa of Avila encourages us to hope

and set our hearts at ease. 

              Nada de turbe

           Nada te espante

            Todo se pasa

           Dios no se muda

               La Paciencia todo lo alcanza

            Quien a Dios tiene

          Nada le falta

           Solo Dios basta

            May nothing disturb you

             May nothing astonish you 

           Everything passes

           God does not go away

            Patience can attain anything

             He who has God within

             Does not lack anything

            God is everything

 It is especially lovely when set to this haunting Taize chant.
  

Be back after I leave hospital.


God Bless