"....a face to meet the faces...."

The magic of the movies

2012-02-03T15:38:00.000Z

I love the cinema!

Jon and I have Cineworld Unlimited passes - £15 per month to see as many films as you want - so we go at least once a week. It's great. I am a child before the big screen - readily tipped into giddiness, tears, cackling, absorption, terror or whatever else is required.

Our two most recent viewings have been The Descendants and The Grey. Which, combined, tipped me into existential angst. The former made me depressed as I contemplated Jon dying. Nobody knows me except Jon. Who would I be without him?

The latter is part gripping adventure, part allegory. A man fights to remain alive in adverse circumstances, despite the fact his life means little to him. It reminded me of Beckett's "You must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on."

But honestly, I love the cinema. Recommend it to anyone......

Grey matter

2012-01-28T17:31:00.001Z

One of the purposes of a blog is surely to bring oneself back down to earth and force oneself to get a grip?

So herewith the confession: most days now, I spend some minutes in the downstairs loo, where the light is good, with the top of my head stuck towards the mirror, manipulating my hair into different parting positions in order to facilitate the optimum hunt for grey hairs. Which I then pluck out.

At a certain stage in the proceedings, I invariably realise that I have lapsed into furrowing my brow as I scour my hairline. I am aware that this, in turn, might cause wrinkles e'en more unslightly than the grey. So, for a while, I try to reposition my head so I can look at the top of it with a ripple free brow, which is quite difficult. I have a fairly rubbery forehead which breaks into furrows very easily.

After a while, this manipulation of head, neck and face hurts so much that I have to stop.

Here is how you can help: if you come to our house and find tweezers by the sink in the downstairs loo, you must feel free to notify me that you have seen them and that you know why they are there. This might, possibly, shame me into less absurd, and thoroughly unfeminist, habits.

Thank you.

Religious sensitivities?? (click for link)

2011-12-31T15:09:00.002Z

Much pondering on 'the new' atheism this month.

Led a morning conference for 200 year 11s on 'environment'. (Blimey!) Struck by how much adverse reaction there was to a section on why faith in God might lead one to care for the planet, a minor part of the morning: we had been instructed to cover RE. The kids totally kicked off and couldn't focus on anything else from then on. "We weren't brought up that way, miss". "We don't need God, miss." One was so rude he got secluded. It was really bizarre.

Some good friends of mine then shared the above link on Facebook, a Tim Minchin song edited out of the final cut of the Jonathan Ross show. It mocks Jesus, a bit. It isn't very funny and it isn't half as offensive as most of Tim's Christ-bashing, so who knows why it was cut. Perhaps because it wasn't particularly entertaining? If the editing was done to avoid upsetting Christians, I feel rather patronised. Censorship that panders to religious sensitivities is almost always a mistake.

Long chat with one of my brothers at Christmas. He is an actor and planning some stand up comedy that mocks aggressive atheism. He dislikes Tim Minchin (who I often find hilarious, though far more hit-and-miss when focusing on religion) and thinks his audiences visibly change when he starts to criticise Christianity: they cheer and jeer, rather than laugh. As if at a political rally of some sort.

Is it true that dismantling religion is a counter-cultural act, as some atheists claim? It may well be, globally, but I don't think so in Britain. Our country has left Christendom behind, in all but a few obsolescent ways. (I wish parliament and the queen would detach themselves from the C of E. Why bishops should have a seat in the house of lords I do not know.) It is far trendier to be atheist than to be Christian.

Criticism is fine and I wish more people would quiz me on what I believe. Why are we all so scared of talking to each other? But I don't think anything is achieved by mocking Christians in an uninformed, generalistic way. Those who do it often act as if their words are in some way brave and uttered for the good of the masses. I don't hold with the view that those who share my faith are 'persecuted' in Britain (many would say so - I think that is daft) but I do think that we have entered a period where people enjoy knocking Christianity just because it it acceptable, rather than for any higher purpose.

Why can't someone as gifted as Tim Minchin let it go and get back to being funny? Why can't a brilliant scientist like Richard Dawkins get back to educating people about the wonders of the world? Or, if they are doing this out of a sense of justice, maybe they should go and knock Christianity over in Uganda. Or Islam over in Afghanistan. If they really want to carry on as they are, maybe they could read the bible properly or spend a year attending an ordinary church. Just so they know a tiny bit about their subject, you know?

It's old now, and more respectful, but I still think mocking Christianity is done much better by Eddie Izzard, who has clearly done his research. One example, here.

Rev.

2011-11-18T14:42:00.001Z

Who knew a TV sitcom could be so profound?

Not sure how they do it. Great intelligence, hard work and creativity, I guess.

Ingredients of its success.... well, some of them:

Tom Hollander's wonderfully, gently expressive face and voice
a supporting cast of characters who each portray somebody I have met, somebody who is utterly ridiculous, somebody the situation really wouldn't be the same without and somebody fantastically amusing all rolled into one
research so thorough that every episode in the last series (and so far in this second series) closely resembles a situation I, as a lifelong churchgoer, have been part of or witnessed
attention to detail balanced so carefully with an understanding of 'everyman' that specialist churchy knowledge (that new curate was Lucy Winkett!) complements characters and scenarios with which anyone can identify
a depiction of Christianity / churchmanship that is at once authentic, beautiful, laughable and flawed. In other words, accurate.

One priest apparently told writer James Woods that the show isn't a comedy but a documentary. I think it's both. Hurrah for Rev Adam Smallbone, his most excellent wife and his dysfunctional / lovely congregation.

Accompaniment versus Direction.

2011-11-11T12:48:00.000Z

Am off to see a Spiritual Director this afternoon. Eeeeek!

Well, she says she prefers the term "accompanier" to director. Which I can understand. But that makes me feel like a soloist who has to take the lead, rather than an idiot who needs to be helped. And, to be honest, I prefer the lack of responsibility implied by the latter.

My minister thought I might find this sort of exercise helpful, what with all my uncertainties about church per se, and my role in ours par example. I'm grateful for this. I've been reading about Spiritual Directors in Susan Howatch novels and they're all rather merciless yet redemptive. The Trinny and Suzannah of the spiritual life. Not that it's good practice to live life as if it were fiction. Is it?

There may only be one session, as I think we will decide today if the relationship is going to work. If it carries on, I don't expect I'll feel able to share much of what goes on here on the blog. But if there's any comedy I'll let you know.

Material girl?

2011-10-24T15:50:00.001+01:00

The opportunities that the 'economic crisis' has afforded for making people in the UK miserable, worried and mean about their material possessions are many and great. But the reality of a person's financial situation is rarely linked to how s/he feels about it. Or so it seems to me.

Between us, Jon and I earn about £29,000 net a year. This feels bountiful. We live our lives, save, pay into pension schemes, give about 10% to charity, run a car, eat really well, subscribe to gyms, stay stocked up on wine, go out on a 'date' at least once a week and go on holiday every year.

Admittedly, we don't own a house. There are downsides to that. But I have no time for the 'you're throwing your money away on rent' argument. We pay £550 per month for a stress-free roof over our heads and it's well worth it. Has society just conned most of us into debt-addiction in mortgage form?

We don't have children, which I had always assumed was a great saving. But a friend and father-of-two told me last weekend that the benefits he gets for his family cover more than what it costs.

We would have to rethink our spending habits if our car died; we don't buy much in the way of clothing or household items (another benefit of renting!) But we don't actually want a better car, more clothes, or to worry about how well our house is decorated.

Quite often, friends and acquaintances who earn much more than me are really worried about their financial status, angry about rising fuel prices, guilty that they don't afford to give much money away, bitter at the authorities for getting them into an economic mess.

Some people are in difficult situations. But often the difficulty stems from a lifestyle choice (maxing out on the highest mortgage affordable; having an extra car; paying for schooling) not necessity. It saddens me when people's decisions to live expensively leads them to resent others who have next to nothing: asylum seekers, travellers, those overseas getting a bit of aid from our government.

Who is it that lies to us about what we need and what we have? The media? Or does someone feed them that message?

I am not naturally generous. In fact, the opposite is true. But I have watched how regularly giving money away, resisting the temptation to buy things that I don't need / that don't make me happier, avoiding certain media and refusing to join the lament of woe about what I can't afford have trained me to be much less anxious and burdened by "stuff". I have tried to choose the path of being content, as far as I have been able to see where that lies.

Of course, it's all a process. I would struggle if my income level suddenly dropped, even though I know I don't need that wine or that gym membership. But if I keep practising an attitude of gratitude and allow myself to listen to life's invitations to be generous, I suspect I shall never really feel badly off.

I guess all this sounds rather self-satisfied. It isn't meant to. In fact, I feel really sad that so many of the people I know (and there are more of them the older I get) choose to believe they are hard done by. It is that choice, and not the reality of their bank balance, which leads to genuine difficulty.

Brasil!!!

2011-09-09T16:29:00.000+01:00

Off to Brazil for the first time on Sunday.

Spending the first ten days visiting Christian Aid partners, so I can bring back stories for my regional work here in the UK. We'll be seeing those working in favelas with the homeless on city recycling projects, rural communities fighting for land rights and secure, sustainable power sources that don't involve flooding their homes for massive dams, tax justice campaigners, interfaith leaders working to educate people about HIV / Aids and more.

Have had one or two stress dreams but mainly excited.

Then four days holiday, at Foz de Iguazu and Rio. The Rock in Rio just happens to be on while we are there ; ) And we are staying in a favelinha, a hostel in a favela.

Woo hoo! And I have even done eight hours of Portuguese so I can say 'I would like a beer please' , 'I don't know and I don't understand' , 'where is the bathroom?' So I'll be away!

Pauline

2011-08-07T12:08:00.000+01:00

Having a bit of a U-turn about Paul (the apostle, you know?)

A decade or so back, I struggled (first subconsciously and later in full awareness) with a university Christian Union and a "the bible should be taken literally except that's not possible so we pretend to while actually imposing on it our own agenda" type church for a while. Both places heralded Paul as their scriptural champion. One advocate actually warned me against missing out on Paul due to taking Jesus' example too seriously (!) So I got a bit prejudiced.

Paul was obviously IMPORTANT but he was also PROBLEMATIC as a hyper-masculine, emotion-o-phobe, pin down the theory and batten down the hatches to mystery, inscrutable, (wannabe) academic, anti-women, pro-hell type of guy.

On re-reading today, with a more open mind, I find I am surprised and pleased with the tone of Paul's letters.

His letters are actually very emotional, gushing, here-there-and-everywhere. Yes, they suggest great learning and intellect but in a rather chaotic, dashing this all down, too much to say too little time, can't be bothered to proofread type way. They are obsessed with the individual circumstances of the readers, their spiritual struggles and their personal lives.

There is much femininity here. Often the intense theological grappling is disrupted by an outburst of "Oh, I don't know, but isn't God great anyway!"

I think I would have liked Paul, in fact. A revelation!

In the dog house

2011-06-12T20:35:00.002+01:00

Is it me or has dog-owning etiquette changed since I was a wee nipper?

Through work, I am fairly often required to visit people in their homes. Many of them own dogs or cats. It is more or less a given that a dog will bark manically on my arrival. Fairly often, a dog will also jump all over me. On more than one occasion, a cat has climbed all over me and put holes in my clothes. On one occasion, a dog persistently jumped on me for about half an hour and eventually knocked my hot tea down my lap.

The final act did result in an apology. But in general, I feel like I'm undergoing some sort of test. I feel as if the houseowner is saying: "Can you cope with this animal being menacing and invading your personal space? No? well, you're not really worth my time."

Now, you could say such unacceptable pet behaviour is a result of territory being invaded by a stranger. But the pattern is repeated in public spaces. How often will a dog owner shout across a field, as the beast races at you teeth bared, 'It's alright he's friendly!' Or, 'You don't mind dogs, do you?' Or else simply look at you with eyebrows raised as if to say: "Can you take it? Huh? Can ya?"

Actually, it's not alright. And if I do mind a dog charging me it's not because I am some sort of narrow-minded, killjoy bigot. And if I do apply a swift kick to the mutt who jumps on me, I would say I am perfectly within my rights.

I'm sure things were not always thus. I'm sure pet-owners used to be ashamed of this sort of behaviour. In the good olds days when pets were less pampered and left to poo on the street and all that......

Lent update

2011-05-17T17:11:00.000+01:00

My hordes of followers have been clamouring for an update on my Lenten fast from church. And I am an obliging sort of gal....

I had six Sundays off. And avoided other church activities during that period. It was very relaxing.

Not sure how many noticed my absence. A few did. On the first Sunday, I went to meet Jon for lunch. He had been to church while I stayed in bed. On my way, I bumped into a couple coming home from the morning service. They stared, as if to check I was me.

Me: "Hi".
Wife: "You weren't at church this morning."
Me: "No".
Wife: "We saw your husband."
Me: "Yes, I'm going to meet him for lunch."
[long pause]
Wife: "Well, that's okay."

Quite amusing.

It's easy to reduce a relationship with 'god' (demanding!) to church activity. But in and of itself, that activity is meaningless. So, since the end of last year, I've been trying to devote more time to my own meditations, bible-reading and prayers. It has been transformative, but not in ways I can articulate (in a blog).

Alongside the personal progress, church continued to be frustrating. It didn't live up to my ideals about Christian community. It was rarely a place where I felt known, helped and necessary. I felt thwarted by its structures and rules, which seemed to require acquiescence before they would bestow acceptance.

Part of what I'm seeing is that church is neither my master nor my slave. And that, on the national scale, it is changing. (An essay for another day!) Perhaps I am frustrated because I see and want that change more than the majority. Church is for people; is a community within which they experience the Mystery who made and loves them.

I think church is important. It is my heritage and, on the grander historical scale, my forefathers and mothers in the faith have given me my identity. Learning to live in a church community gives you all the life lessons you are ever likely to need. But in its localised and present state, no church is crucial. It provides opportunities to discover truth - more reliable ones than an individualistic society. But it is not the only way. What is crucial is that people learn to relate to God, which usually happens alongside them learning to relate to one another.

So I am going to try to chill out about it. If I don't want to go along on any given Sunday, I won't. I will prioritise building relationships with people connected to church, rather than criticising Sunday services. I will try to challenge the bad, controlling, arrogant, judgmental, irrelevant, invite-only aspects of church. But will try to worry less about getting it wrong.

And we'll see what happens.

Gleeful

2011-04-18T23:26:00.000+01:00

I am a little bit worried about myself.

Perhaps I skipped over some important development stages in adolescence.

The thing is that I get really very, very excited whenever I watch Glee.

Clearly, this is to be expected when the episode is about Britney Spears. She was actually in it, for heavens sake. But I have run control tests and, having chuckled and danced and squeaked my way through the Gwyneth episode and the Rocky Horror one, must deduce that this is a behavioural pattern.

Despite all longings to the contrary, perhaps it is wise to avoid the Michael Jackson one. I mean, I might give myself a hernia..... (Have they done Backstreet Boys?!)

Yes, I know most of the educated world hates the programme. Don't judge me, I have a problem.

I'll be there for you-oo

2011-04-01T18:47:00.000+01:00

Friendship. It's a funny old game.

Most of my pals who live at a distance will testify that I'm not very good at staying in touch. Jon is much better at that, really. With the exception of maybe 5 - 10 people, I am "out of sight, out of mind" about it all.

I used to beat myself up about this. Now, I think it's quite sensible. We all need human contact and engagement. But I don't need that to consist of premeditated jollities with the cherry-picked, compatible individuals that please me most. (I do have some cherries I'm not getting rid of. So to speak.) I enjoy building new relationships where I am, with whoever happens to be accessible.

This is becoming problematic, though. It is increasingly difficult to make new friends as the years go by. And I do try. Am I becoming repulsive? Don't think so....

It's partly the sprog thang, of course. There is less social space in a routine that has to cater for the dependent. And those of us as yet without that responsibility find it hard to fit into new parents' lives. But that's far from an insurmountable issue (as some of our friends demonstrate).

I reckon we just tend to get more insular as we age. Enclosed in our homes. Preoccupied with the demands of work, immediate family, homekeeping and 'managed' R&R. Preferring strict control over who we socialise with and when. Loathe to accommodate a stranger or a guest who might just unsettle or see through us. Believing our own story, that our life is too busy.....

Children deal with that sort of unsettling 'stranger becomes friend' encounter all the time, so they just get on with it. Adults gradually lose the ability to cope with such encounters because they allow them to happen less and less. And so get more and more set in, and defensive about, their ways and their private space and their busy lives.

This is a shame. I like making new friends. I don't want to develop a shell that protects me from that.

All this does make me increasingly grateful for the long-standing friends. Which is nice!

Lent again

2011-03-18T18:10:00.000Z

Well, this fastful season I have given up church.

I am so, like, out there and cutting edge.

Not really. In fact, this is about being a total loser: the main reason for the abstinence is that I have noticed I am slightly obsessed with church. Both in the particular Chepstow Methodist sense and in the general Body of Christ sense.

In The Naked Now, Catholic mystic Richard Rohr says that when one "cannot detach from [something] when it is needed and appropriate, [one is] overidentified, overly attached, or even enmeshed... This could be called [....] blindness." Those are precisely the things one should get free of during Lent. And I was in danger of being enmeshed in churchiness.

As a minister's child, some of my earliest and most formative memories are of being the centre of attention in an ever-present church community. I grew up obeying the parental commandment Thou Shalt Never Just Lie in on a Sunday. Some good came of that. But also some Iss-ewes.

I hope that the church, with me in it, has something wonderful and radical to offer. But that train of thought has, over the years, become a personal manifesto that makes me look at church (and those in it, including myself) with unrealistic expectation and later with irritability, stress and judgement.

Church will always be frustrating. It is a community of people who may have next to nothing in common and yet to varying degrees are trying to love one another. It is full of mistakes. And oddities. And, as a member of the community, you're continually being shown all the irritating things about yourself and all the irritating things about everybody else.

That scenario has the potential for great good, for encouraging humility, for healing and for seeing God. But, if looked at wrong, it also has the potential to be very burdensome. Especially if the extent to which you value yourself and your companions depends on how well you / they are "fixing" the frustrations, flaws and irritations.

So. I'm stepping back for a few weeks to get rid of the funny attitude I have managed to grow.

And to enjoy Sunday lie-ins.

work ethic

2011-02-13T16:55:00.000Z

I've now spent decent chunks of time working in the private and charitable sectors.

Perhaps the main difference between them is in the attitude towards workload. In the charitable sector, you get people saying things like (an actual quote, representative of many similar comments):

"We all get too many emails. I tend to leave mine for a couple of weeks. Then, when I look through them, most of the things have become irrelevant. So obviously they weren't that crucial."

In the private sector, a statement like that merits death by hanging.

You also tend to find that people speak more effusively about their passion for their work and regard their own opinions about their employer's strategies and policies of as being of more import when they work for the charitable sector. But this doesn't, unfortunately, lead to them working harder.

I have on occasion more or less lobotomised myself (or been lobotomised by my bosses) in trying to respond to every single incoming client request within 24 hours. Only to find that the client has forgotten what they asked for and is surprised to get any response at all. Or still hates you anyway, even when you fulfil every demand on time and in full. The private sector can afford to be a bit less uptight about the to do lists, at times.

But I rarely find the laid back attitude of the charitable sector is good for the employer. Frighteningly rarely do enthusiasm and a professed desire to influence the way things are run translate into efficient, productive, imaginative work.

I'm sorry to admit it but it seems that, in general, how hard we work all boils down to money. Will you lose your job if you fail to get that done? Yes? Well....you damn well get it done. No? Well......life is about more than work, after all.

Will you get another contract or a bonus if you do that little bit more? Yes? Well....suddenly that extra hour in the office seems alright afterall. No? Well......there's no need to get everything perfect, is there?

Oh, that the pure, unadulterated love of the cause won the same tangible results as hard-earned cash! But it doesn't, really, does it?

(And the effect all this cash-driven culture has on church communities, which rely more or less entirely on volunteers? Which need people - who are paid nothing - to stop fantasising / debating / complaining and get off their butts and do things properly? Well, I'll save that for another day.....)

that was the week that was

2011-01-22T11:41:00.003Z

Quel week.

It began with my first official 'preach' (needs inverted commas) for Christian Aid at a little URC chapel in Mere, South Wilts.

Then there were two days event management teaching for trainee Baptist Youth Ministers in Bristol. And, yes, I do manage to fill an entire hour and a half on the subject of "planning". It's an edifying course, I can tell you.

These days were intervalled with Britney night on Glee. Bliss.

Since Tuesday, I have amongst other things had tea with a young, high-flying, businessman, father-of-two Christian Aid organiser in Ashton Keynes; and a feisty, near-90-year-old Christian Aid organiser in Upper Minety. Friday night saw me entertaining about 40 people with a quiz at a bangers 'n' mash night in aid of Christian Aid in the Methodist Church, Wootton Bassett. Forty on a Friday. Impressive.

I do enjoy my jobs.

Oh and the Beckhams are having a baby ; )

And my best friends just had one.

Peace out.

methodism: what's that all about, then?

2010-12-10T13:35:00.000Z

We go to a Methodist church in Chepstow. Purely in terms of ideology, I'd go Baptist and Jon, Anglican. But there are more important things than ideology. And I like the fact we've been Baptists, Anglicans, Methodists and Independent Evangelicals (sorry....) during our lives. I am Ecumenical and proud of it.

What with my Baptist minister patriarch and Anglican career, I am pretty well versed in the hows, whys and what on earths of Church of England (and Wales) and the British Baptists. But the Methodists..... after two years, I still feel rather in the dark about why they exist and what they stand for.

The Anglicans think every (Christian) body is really Anglican. More or less anybody, of any Christian mould, can find an Anglican church to suit them. The denomination gets in muddles because it does have some rules, about bishops and communion and stuff, which the 'all' have to somehow agree on despite the diversity. They have some regrettable links with good old Henry VIII, colonialism etc etc, which they can't really escape. And, being the state church, they tend to take the flack for all the madcaps (anti-women, anti gay, creationist etc) Due to that state link, they also have more money and tend to be given a voice in the public arena. Bishops rule the roost. The congregation's will is decided by an elected council - the PCC.

The Baptists resist being subsumed into all-embracing Anglicanism: their churchmanship is at root rebellious not conciliatory. They structurally insist on the independence of a congregation, the humility of a leader, the "priesthood of all believers" (the very prospect of bishops is a no-no) and self-chosen baptism. All very admirable. But with no heirarchy of authority there's more risk of things going wrong. And, in reality, today's Anglican church is no longer that which prompted rebellion. The British baptist church will never divorce itself form the British public's perception of American Southern Baptists - bad, bad PR. There's little central money. No one rules the roost. The congregation's will is decided by all its members.

The Methodists don't have bishops or call their leaders 'priests' (like the Baptists). But they are strict about who can serve communion (like the Anglicans). Their roots lie in rebellion against church corruption (B) but today they seem keen for protestant denominations to join forces (A). They theoretically prioritise the involvement of laypeople in 'priestly' ministry (B) but have strict ideas about who can preach and lead worship (A). They run in circuits - groups of geographically close congregations that share resources and are linked in various ways. Centrally, the denomination is in serious financial trouble. A "Conference" rules the roost (?) The congregation's will is decided in various ways: stewards, a church council, a membership. I am extremely unclear on the roles and responsibilities of any of these groups.

I really like my church. But I have not yet met anybody or read anything sensible and convincing that tells me what really, uniquely matters to Methodists and how that influences their setup. I may not buy into such a manifesto but I would like to know there is one.

A church doesn't need to be right. But, to my mind, it does need considered, faithful convictions underlying the buearocracy. And those convictions need to be relatively obvious to the interested.

Correction and instruction welcome!

stuff I have been reading

2010-11-19T13:59:00.000Z

Sometimes I wonder about making this blog a book and film diary, as I always forget what I've seen and read and regret it.

Anyway, of the books I recall, I've recently ploughed through Mantel's Wolf Hall, the Larsson trilogy, Greene's The Man Within, Waugh's Brideshead Revisited (never read before - how awful!), Williams Thanks and Silence & Honeycakes and Hauerwas Resident Aliens. Also an anthology of modernist short stories edited by Malcolm Bradbury.

Actually, I really enjoyed them all. Boring that, isn't it? Larsson got a bit tedious as it went on - I mean, how appealing did he (aka Mikael Blomkvist: author and hero are clearly one and the same in the former's imagination) think he was to women??? Get over yourself! But a good way to pass an hour or ten, in the main.

Loved Wolf Hall. Can't wait for part 2 of Cromwell's life to come out. Can you imagine having Henry VIII as your boss? Workplace stress redefined!

Dead interesting to read Hauerwas, who we heard speak at Greenbelt. He wasn't a very good speaker but I was sufficiently intrigued by his ideas to buy the book, which has provoked lots of thoughts. Not in absolute agreement on the church as totally distinctive 'colony' within society. But did make me question whether my particular brand of liberalism at times contributes to the church seeming obsolete rather than the radical community it can be at its best.

More on that later, no doubt.

Good old Rowan an inspiration, as ever. Thank God for a man such as him as our archbishop. Quite seriously.

craftsmanship

2010-11-05T13:20:00.001Z

We all admire people with charisma, confidence and 'the x-factor'. Big personality and little effort win the day. Celebrity is most desirable. Many of our industries rely on marketing and PR departments because the actual content of what they're offering doesn't matter: if they can persuade people to buy it, they're successful.

If I'm not immediately good at a task (or able to appear so) I am tempted to give up. I assume the 'right' places for me to be in life are those where from the outset I feel confident, get admiration and have no need for being the stranger, for tuition, for practice and discipline.

Craftsmanship is unfashionable. That is, real mastery of a skill, situation, area of expertise, relationship or sense of community. It can only be achieved by trying over and over and waiting and failing and persisting. All the while learning from others who're further advanced. And few of us have patience with that.

I'd like to really get to know the people around me properly. And to develop the infant skills I have so I can be my most effective. But am I willing to listen to others, and be a novice and fall over a few times in the process? I hope so. I think that is the way forward. Whatever Simon Cowell and Alan Sugar may have to say about it.

achievable ambition

2010-10-16T19:06:00.000+01:00

I find most of my ambitions in life are for my beloved, rather than myself. Not quite sure what this says about me and my society, but anyhoo......

Quite excited about the entrance of Miliband junior on the political front lines. Clever, pleasant, passionate about the right sorts of thing. Vast improvement on Brown. Very unlike the superficial 'try-to-be Blair' Cam, Clegg and even (though he is quite fit) brother David.

So, my new ambitions for husband are:

1. Win a Nobel prize (don't mind which)

2. Become drinking buddies with the Milibands (well, they're not married but whatever her surname is.)

Probably number 2 should come first, before we all get too old.

I feel these are achievable. Jon is a member of the labour party and voted Ed. He is also scientist. I am now going to work on a strategy for inserting regular, encouraging / gently pressurising / inspiring speeches into our daily life to help him on his way.

faith

2010-10-08T15:07:00.000+01:00

I find it extremely difficult to talk about my faith.

When with those who profess to be christian, my instinctive suspicion is that they will have a very different take from me on what that means. For those who would not align themselves with my religion, I feel paralysed in anticipation of their views about or bad experiences of it.

My guess is that increasing numbers of churchgoing people have this communication problem. And maybe that's a good thing. I mean, I think people of faith need to find ways and be allowed to articulate that faith. But I don't think it's necessarily bad that those of us who've been in churches for years are finding ourselves less confident in our speaking.

Many christian words have been hijacked - perhaps especially "God". For centuries past, religious language was not deemed worthy to summarise such a concept. And I think we are coming to realise that we aren't fully qualified to do so, either. Many of our claims to proof and evidence have been undermined by science, by contradictory life experiences, by new discoveries about the historicity of the bible, by a postmodern, globalised society. Many of us have listened to speeches made on and off pulpits and realised the words spoken are not our language. All of us have watched dwindle the privileged position of the Christian voice in government, education, marriage, international relations. And many of us have not been able to say in all honesty that we think this is A Bad Thing.

All I know, ultimately, is my own experience. Which is informed by countless hours over many years spent attempting to communicate with 'God', reading the bible, socialising with others who call themselves Christian, attending churches, thinking deeply about who I am and why I am here and what the hell is going on. And my experience has deepened, not reduced, a conviction that I have been lovingly made by somebody with whom it is possible to communicate.

But I cannot claim much more than that. And those hours and years have left me a lot less sure of what I once thought I knew. And a lot more likely to accept that the other person standing next to me has something to teach me, regardless of whether they nominally share my faith. And a lot more hesitant about rolling God up into the words of my mouth.

Which doesn't mean, as I guess this post proves, that you'll get me to shut up altogether!

Croatia

2010-09-24T15:30:00.000+01:00

Northen and Central Dalmatia. Fabulous food and white wine, clear blue 23°C seas, stunning landscapes and cities.

We started with five nights in Zadar, travelled inland for two nights at Plitvice Lakes national park then spent four nights in Trogir.

Zadar is funky. A tourist-lite Rome, it has cute places to eat; dramatic city walls; a market groaning with fresh figs, sheep cheese and local honey; pizza, coffee and ice cream cafes galore; countless little churches and ancient ruins. It also has the sea organ, an instrument built into the sea wall that creates haunting, whale-like cries as the waves rush into the hidden holes and push air up through the pavement. At night, the next-door Sun Salutation uses the day's energy of sea and sun to put on a spectacular random light show. We spent several a happy half-hour just staring at these mesmerising installations.

Day 1 (arrival) - explored Zadar, found the boatmen of Zadar
Day 2 - explored Zadar more
Day 3 - took a boat tour to Kornati National Park
Day 4 - went to Paklenika National Park
Day 5 - went to the barren and beautiful island of Pag

It was raining when we got to Plitvice and stayed damp throughout (actually a blessing because even in the wet the place was teeming with tourists). The lakes are absolutely gorgeous: little waterfalls everywhere intespersed with deep, bright green pools of the clearest water. We felt a bit misled by the Lonely Planet, though, which didn't warn us about how heavily managed the park is, the Yugoslav prison block atmosphere of the hotels or the general drudgery of food on offer. A full day visit would have been preferable to two nights on site. Definitely a sight to see, though.

The hospitality of pretty Trogir helped us recover. A charming hotel on the traffic-free island that is the town centre delighted us with outdoor breakfasts and excellent service. This was our favourite city: more intimate than Zadar but just as gorgeous, with lovely places to swim within easy walking distance.

Again, we felt let down by Lonely Planet with regards to Krka, as tourist management was overbearing but useful information scarce, so much of the day was spent looking for park highlights in the car. I was, however, asked in conversation by a French couple if I was "Quebequoise" which made me rather pleased with myself.....

Split was impressive but too big for a stay and very touristy. I'm glad we didn't bother with the drive south to Dubrovnik. It was worth the tricky, unsigned hunt round Trogir streets (as wide as your arm) for the local ferry booking office to the tiny Drvenik Veli. No other brits on board and a fabulous little island to swim off on arrival.

Day 8 - explored Trogir
Day 9 - trip to Split
Day 10 - visited little island of Drvenik Veli
Day 11 - visited Krka National Park

We then drove back to Zadar and spent our final afternoon chilling out in The Garden. Very cool.

Flights were Stansted to Zadar. Prices on location not cheap but a bit cheaper than the UK. Croatia's culture changes from a Western European vibe to something more Eastern European as you move inland. They don't have the €. Everywhere, people speak English or are ashamed not to. Service is generally good but you feel a bit more will need to be done (or perhaps will be done out of necessity) if the tourist industry reaches its full potential. You have to be a bit savvy to make your holiday work. Our guide book told us you could get around by bus and that was our intention, but we hired a car on day 2: it is, in fact, essential.

I can heartily recommend this part of the world and wouldn't be at all surprised if it catches on rapidly in the next few years.

Employment

2010-07-09T11:26:00.001+01:00

I now have two jobs!

My principal employer is Christian Aid, for whom I am the half-time Regional Coordinator for Wiltshire. It is so great to have a job where I feel 100% motivated by organisation and cause. I am actually paid to learn more about development issues that I have always cared about but, as a busy pragmatist, never got very far with.

I am staying on at Affinity 10.5 hours. This makes a 30-hour week - one day off to chill, do chores (Jon is hoping!), write and do some church stuff. On paper, an ideal scenario. I am very excited - if aware that the 30 hours could easily expand into 40 or more if I'm not careful.

CA will be the largest organisation I have worked for. At Affinity, with its 6-person team, I am part of every decision and operation: fixing my computer; keeping on top of hours worked and holiday; decision-making; contract-writing; cleaning; purchasing - the lot! There is one 'department'. At CA, there is a 6-hour online training module on how to use the intranet; an IT department that controls my laptop at a distance and doesn't allow me access rights; a mountain of policies and resources and databases to navigate; a network of colleagues, 100s of whom I will never meet; a lengthy approval process to go through before a penny is spent.

How interesting it will be to work for both!

Monday was my first day at CA. Lunchtime was tricky. I popped out for a sandwich and had a dilemma about the ethics of my diet. Is it OK to drink coke zero?! In the end I settled for a glass of water. No doubt I shall loosen up over time.....

empathy?

2010-06-13T18:18:00.001+01:00

I once did a personality test with a management consultant.

You ended up with five key 'traits' My top one was 'empathy'. I have always thought of myself as empathetic - and seen it as a largely female trait. Sometimes I am so weighed down by a sense of others that I lose all sense of myself. If I sit down and exercise my imagination, I can walk in someone else's shoes. If someone exhibits an (even very subtle) emotional response to something, I feel it. If a person's predicament is presented to me in an artistic way (film or tv; written word; verbal explanation) I live it.

But I am not so good at empathising with someone when there is no emotion or communication involved. I often completely fail to predict that an action or set of circumstances will have a certain impact on a person. I am not pragmatic in my empathy: I am sentimental.

Quite a lot of blokes are the other way around: they'll fail to notice a communication or presentation of emotion but will forsee and make allowances for the practical impact a situation is likely to have on someone else's life.

I reckon that's empathy of a different kind. Maybe we should have a masculine and feminine variety.

Fempathy and manpathy.

Catchy.

twi-lite

2010-05-09T12:50:00.001+01:00

We watched Twilight: New Moon this weekend.

I am no a snob when it comes to popular culture. I get hooked on Big Brother. I love Britney. The Beckhams are amongst my heroes. I even enjoy Dawnson's Creek, the most ridiculously self-indulgent exploration of teen angst out there.

I do not, however, understand the popularity of these films. They consist of repeated and un-varied scenes of two reasonably attractive, personality devoid young people: approaching one another; standing quietly in gloomy surroundings; staring into each others eyes; uttering one or two syllables; sighing; walking away from one other.

A few other people wander into shot from time to time to mooch and mumble. There are some potentially interesting baddies but the heavily edited snippets you see of them don't even achieve 'vaguely disconcerting' on the scary-o-meter.

I have read a few pages of the first book. Which was better. But if you're after melodramatic teen romance with some convnicing vampire fantasy thrown in, this pales in comparison to Buffy. (The seven series of which I have watched 4 times.)

hygiene?

2010-04-28T21:10:00.002+01:00

On Friday I will be going to see the hygienist.

I have done so only once before. That was after 10 years of not visiting the dentist at all, in any capacity. I wasn't even sure what a hygienist did at that stage (I just wanted my teeth cleaned and the NHS don't do that any more.) They were a little bemused by my lackadaisical approach to my mouth, I think, and passed judgement on me too.

Anyway, I endeavour to go through this again because my teeth did feel squeaky clean afterwards. And those little stains between them were disparu sufficient to please the most vain among us (me?) And I have a big event in a week or so, at which sparkly teeth will give me more shaky ground on which to base a little self-confidence.

But I quiver with fear in advance of my trip because I know the petite, well-groomed lady she is bound to be will attack my mouth with one of these. And I still taste the trauma of the last visit, as I sat there innocently awaiting a toothbrush and instead had a chisel rammed viciously, vigourously and at length between all my teeth. It left me a bit shaky for hours. There was a fair amount of blood too.

The price I pay for beauty..... ah me! Better go chew some chocolate.

mental health

2010-03-27T19:28:00.000Z

Last night I dreamed about walking up the stairwell of a high towerblock and being absolutely driven to measure the width of each and every step.

The night before, I dreamed about:
1. a murderer stuffing someone's mouth full of pretzels and then skewering them through the throat
2. the same murderer skinning someone else
3. the same murderer sawing a third person in half with a chain saw.

It was all rather graphic and blood strewn.

I fear all this may not bode well for my mental health. On the other hand, if your brain spews out all the bad stuff in dreams, maybe this kind of episode is why I'm such a delightful little lady to be with when awake.

This is how I feel at the moment

2010-02-28T17:39:00.000Z

Lent, fasting, salvation and all that jazz

2010-02-15T16:27:00.000Z

For me, redemption is an ongoing process of being freed from life's (little) entrapments.

I may never find it easy to disregard others' opinions but if I dwell on the fact that those opinions are not my god, especially when they feel most oppressive, their influence shall fall into its proper place.

I may always tend to fatalism but if I try (and allow others to try to help me) to develop an awareness that in most situations I face, I have the power to make them better and easier, the temptation to feel impotent and despondent will ease.

I may always be stressed out by those tasks that remain undone but if I persist in stepping away from the to do list on a regular basis, I hope to develop an outlook that says "I have worth, even if I achieve nothing today."

Little tasks and habits help: a day's pause before responding to a critical email; a phone call to someone who loves me whenever I feel small; a long lunchbreak on a hectic day. Simple stuff.

And most of the negatives are also positives. I value others, so listen to them and allow them to influence me. It's just that sometimes they become too influential. I recognise my limitations and so never behave like a control freak. It's just that sometimes I give up altogether. I am conscientious and can be trusted to get a job done. It's just that sometimes I decide that therein lies my value.

The stuff of life is rarely straightforward 'good' or 'bad'. It is a jumble. And when I read the bible, I don't see rules and doctrine. I see a miscellaneous collection of texts from different periods and cultures that, given full attention, makes wonderful sense of the jumble. Through earthy advice and an underlying message: there is only one god whose plan for you is fulfilment and prosperity - make time to look for him in amongst all the clamour.

That is what I am going to try to think about this Lent. And if that means giving up working hard, well, the Lord will convince my boss........ Ha ha!

Haiti etc

2010-01-17T19:25:00.000Z

What is a 'good' reaction to humanitarian disaster?

Do we make every effort to put ourselves in the shoes of the people affected, because true empathy is powerful? And is it possible to get better at empathy over time? (I think my imagination has grown better equipped to perceive the plight of people far away - but I'm not sure it does any good. Except perhaps help me pray. And of course it is hard to see what that achieves.)

Do we try to reach these people in some way - giving our time to work with the disadvantaged; sending money?

Do we acknowledge we can't help but instead motivate ourselves to seek out the lost and poor and suffering that might be closer? Some say there are always needs under our noses, if we can bothered to see them. But let's face it, things are so much better for my neighbourhood than they ever will be for Congo or Haiti or Afghanistan.

Do we campaign for our own government to do more to reach the disadvantaged? How, exactly? And how to avoid the self-righteousness evident in so many campaigners?

Do we try to learn more about tragic international situations? And how to begin that, when there are too many to count and the facts are hard to come by?

Do we feel gratitude that such things aren't happening to us? And isn't that simply smugness?

Do we allow such situations to make their impact on us; rather than focusing on how we make an impact on them?

I think what happens to a person in Haiti today is a part of my own life. And I think feeling thankful I do not suffer the same is valid. And I think the thanks and the solidarity are part of what it means to believe in a God who is both here and there. And I think tears might be the best reaction.

But what all this actually achieves...... I don't know.

2010 lah lah lah

2010-01-03T13:15:00.000Z

Another year, another step closer home. Ha ha!

In terms of resolutions, in 2010 I shall try to only care about what I actually care about. If you know what I mean.
In terms of best books read.....not the most amazing year. But I got the Britney biography and Susan Cooper's Dark is Rising quintet for Chrissy, so things are looking up (!) Oryx and Crake was pretty good but fizzled out at the end.
In terms of best films seen - District 9 I think makes it to number 1.
In terms of best TV - watched all five The Wire seasons this year. Heartbroken but satisfied. May I adopt DuKwon?
Significant deaths - Michael Jackson (first childhood hero) and my Grandfather.
Significant births - too many! Including a neice.

Off we go!

Final frontier

2009-12-06T17:54:00.000Z

Quite a lot of our friends and same-generation family members now have sprogs. It's quite unsettling.

You see, having a family may well become the only way of holding on to our social life. Whatever our mates may have said in advance, in each and every case the arrival of a little prune or prunette has fundamentally changed their approach to everything.

The thing is, although I see this change is profound, awe-inspiring and satisfying, I don't really want it. I quite like still being able to pop down the pub. And not being knackered. And fretting with carefree abandon about nothing but myself.

The baby frontier: can friendship survive it?

Pop

2009-11-21T17:17:00.000Z

My Grandfather died early this morning.

I have so many good memories of him. He and Gran used to (and I'm sure she still does) pray for every one of their children, children-in-law and grandchildren each morning. That's 24 people, before you start on all the other stuff they prayed for. The list was pinned on the wall.

I remember him taking me and my brother Joe for walks each time we visited their Devon home. The walks were a rare 'get away from the parents and little siblings' treat and were meant to increase by 2 miles a year. I think he got a bit goosed at 11 miles and the routine ended!

I remember him making elaborate 'Joe-Anna' - salads, which contained all manner of exciting ingredients. It was the one kitchen indulgence my Gran allowed him!

I remember being thoroughly embarrased by him taking me out for an ice-cream in my early youth and sitting across the table staring intently at me eat, as if I were a long-lost treasure.

I remember welling up when he quoted Hamlet at his 80th birthday do: "There is a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we may" I think it was.

I remember he kept this tatty old bit of graph paper pinned to his office wall: I had meticulously coloured all the squares on it during the train journey to visit and he loved it.

I'll miss him. He was good and faithful and incredibly positive and fasincated by life. A founding father, you might say.

goal-oriented

2009-11-20T17:30:00.001Z

Our culture values people partly on the basis of their productivity.

So, if you're of a certain age, qualification and physical ability you really should be earning, achieving and generally making the people around you feel better. In increasing measures each year.

One of the reasons church is so important is because it doesn't hold to that: people are valued regardless of achievement. So it bugs me when I see churchfolk separating their community into the 'give-ers' and the 'get-ers'.

You're 'off the hook' (or, alternatively, deemed incapable) if you are:

old (too frail, too eccentric)
a teenager (too likely to leave)
a child (not ready)
disabled (too much effort)
a parent of one or more children (too busy and with better priorities)
not necessarily a 'proper' Christian (shock horror - too dangerous!)

You're most certainly on the hook (or capable of so much more) if you are:

single (so much time on your hands! - but needs watching as likely to be sexually unstable)
full-time working (capable of anything, surely)
without children (what else have you got to fill your time with?)
deemed intelligent and capable
certain in your Christian conviction.

If you're all five, heaven help you! Nobody will know what to talk to you about - except whether you might help serve coffee next week.

I'm being harsh. The churches I've been part of aren't really like that. In fact, it's really me who gets guilty and bored if I'm not busy achieving something or other; who feels affronted if someone else is asked to do something instead of me.

And, church sits in a funny place. We like to qualify time as either 'work' or 'leisure' What is church? Should we be giving or getting from it? How does it communicate its place in our lives?

I guess we should all be giving and getting from our church community. Which is why everyone should be deemed capable of contributing. And no-one should be seen primarily as a resource.

Hard Candy

2009-11-15T18:08:00.000Z

I have just noticed this film is on tonight.

If you're a girl, you should be okay to watch it. It will perturb you somewhat but also hold your attention. I quite enjoyed it. But I am already perturbed (and I had to put a cushion over my face a few times.)

If you're of the other gender, don't watch it. Just don't.

Labelling

2009-11-10T17:54:00.002Z

I have added 'labels' to my blog which means you can go back and re-read your favourite posts.

Ha! Haven't you been wishing that would happen. It's like a revolution in your life, isn't it.

And I'm sure you'll find it hard to believe that my most common label, after 'diary style' (posts about what's happening in my life) is 'me'. My favourite topic is myself! What a testament to my character that is.

Remembrance and Loss – a meditation on Psalm 137

2009-11-08T18:12:00.004Z

I wrote this for a remembrance event at church. It is also posted on my other blog, which is rather frugally updated!!

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.

We have not been to Zion. And yet in our deepest being we feel something like a memory of it – a longing for a hidden kingdom. A memory of a place where we belong. And we weep for its loss.

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.

Is it possible to be creative in the face of loss? At times, we give up on life and worship. In pain, bereavement, betrayal, illness, abuse, loneliness, shattered hopes.

We want to live and play our music. We long for healing.

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying: ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’

We feel weak and guilty – mocked, at times. Sometimes, we are victims of circumstance. Sometimes, the mess is our own doing. So easily we let ourselves be overrun by selfishness, deceit, suspicion and greed. We feel like a joke, sometimes.

Forgive us. We do not want our songs of praise to seem ridiculous.

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying: ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?

This land is kind to most of us. But our brothers and sisters live at war and risk of death; burdened by corrupt governments; alone – forgotten; in pain, unable to be fully themselves; abused, bullied, persecuted or threatened – living in fear; dying from lack of food, medicine, clean water or shelter. We remember them and ask what we can do to free them to sing your song again?

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying. ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!

Our heritage is the stories of Adam and Eve; Noah; Abraham; Moses; Jacob; David. Betrayal, greed, violence. Creation, mercy, rescue. We want to tell these stories in our own voices, our own language We want to feel part of this heritage. We want to pass your memory on.

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying. ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.

It is so long since you walked among us. Since Moses saw your face. Since your prophets shouted your words.
And so we forget. We eat, work, maintain comfortable lives, fight our little battles. Build a safe corner for you. Remind us, whatever it takes, that we are a waiting people: a people not of this world. A people whose God gives them meaning.
And may our memories season our days like salt.

By the Rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there we hung up our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying. ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.
Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall, how they said, ‘Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations! O daughter Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us! Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!

We are ashamed this Psalm ends with such violence – is it in us too?

Perhaps not - but we are good at subtler cruelties: desiring others’ pain or humiliation; fascinated by others’ suffering; gossiping about misfortune; careless with the hearts of those who love and trust us; wilfully ignorant of our suffering neighbours. Obsessed with protecting ourselves at all cost; accepting of revenge; lacking your compassion.

You died in protest against our fear-driven violence. Most of all, we want to remember you. Your determination not to give into the ways of this world. The hope you offer in our darkest moments - because you knew darker and overcame.

We do not want to forget you.

We do not want our song to end in darkness.

Chepstow Acoustic Music Club

2009-10-24T10:02:00.003+01:00

One of Cheppers' local pubs hosted the first of these nights yesterday.

Having not read the flyer properly, I was expecting a tiny bar enlivened in an either deafening or muffled manner by young men playing moody indie/rock. It was more of a well-behaved, properly organised folk event, in fact. Folk music is big in this neck of the woods.

We were among the youngest, thinnest and most conservative of hairstyle in the room. But it was nice. High standard of music; a genuine sense of community; a bit sentimental and a bit of a laugh.

I think we'll go back. Maybe even to play. I can see the Pottersons in ten years time being right at home in such a club. But Jon won't have a ponytail. And I doubt I'll become buxom.

There's no I in Team. Or something.

2009-10-20T16:58:00.006+01:00

A couple of recent events at church have focused on change/looking back on what's past/moving into what's new.

It's pretty easy to come up with biblical characters who went through huge personal or societal changes (be that by determination, accident or even under duress.) From Adam & Eve to the prophets to the disciples. A veritable shedload of examples.

This, combined with the unnerving habit churches get into of treating their congregations like misbehaving sales reps, means we are easily duped into believing we're the dormant key to a Christian revolution. If we could just figure out how to change that little, inscrutable thing we must be getting wrong, we'd awaken our potential and find ourselves swept away by a revival.

Thing is, I guess stories were included in the bible because they covered moments of significance. And even given the understandable editorial preference for activity as opposed to inactivity, the book lists generation after generation of people who saw God do nothing at all worth noting.

It's ever so slightly difficult to accept that God's call on my Christian life may just be to plod on faithfully and pass my understanding of my faith onto my friends and any children who may come along.

You often hear "what would you do if you knew Jesus was coming back tomorrow?". Well, yes. But to nick a phrase from Brian McLaren, "what would you do if you knew he wasn't coming back for 10,000 years?"

Takes more guts to face up to the latter, in my case. I'd much rather believe I'm about to usher in the new kingdom myself. With humility, bien sur.

murder most foul (NB spoilers)

2009-09-19T18:45:00.005+01:00

I have (re)watched a few films recently in which hordes of people meet gruesome ends.

The Departed (Scorcese) I've seen four times. It's still gripping. Murder abounds. I feel like screaming at God when Leo gets shot in the head. HASN'T HE SEEN ENOUGH SUFFERING ALREADY? GIVE THE GUY A BREAK!

This screening of Fargo (Cohen brothers) was my third. Not quite as many deaths, but it's a bloodbath nonetheless. One of the more unfortunate characters is forced through a wood chipper. It's with mild exasperation and wonder at the human condition, a bit of a chuckle and a sense of great inertia that you watch them all go.

It was the first time I'd seen Surveillance (Lynch - Jennifer) and I expect will be the last. It's clever and well acted with a twist that gets you in the gut. But it's lacking in characters to like or even understand. The violence is disturbing. And its inescapability is the point, the whole point and nothing but the point.

I don't mind a bit of gore and grit. But a movie has to take me beyond that stuff in a redemptive fashion. Happy ending? Not necessarily. But if by the end I don't want any of the characters to be rescued and I don't feel that a world I recognise has been revealed to me in a true or new way, then I'm unlikely to revisit.

No doubt I'll continue to enjoy Leo getting his brain mashed, though.

wimbledon winnings

2009-07-04T14:35:00.005+01:00

Having bitten all my nails off watching the Murrayster yesterday, I shall endeavour to rediscover my equilibrium by dwelling on him beating Wawrinka on Monday. One part of a super-sunny week in London involved me, Jon and his mum watching that match from 'the hill'.

Sadly, my attempts to capture anything on camera at Wimbledon were foiled by the players insisting on hitting the balls so damn hard. I kept yelling at them to slow down but they took no heed.

Just as exciting was our late-night journey home. Pretty pumped up, we were.

Do I dare to eat a peach?

2009-06-07T18:05:00.002+01:00

Today will be looked back upon as a terrible landmark on my path through life.

I must confess I had been wrestling with temptation for a while - but until a few short hours ago I had suppressed the urge to allow the desire to impact my conversations.

But, alack, I must confess that, had you been with me as I ate my lunch today you would have heard me express aloud a wish to....

To....

To visit a garden centre. On my own behalf.

Aaaarghghhhhh.

a bit of good news

2009-05-22T20:02:00.002+01:00

Chepstow can be a bit of a boring place at times (though very, very pretty).

It came to life this week when thousands gathered to welcome home the 1st Battalion The Rifles Parade from their posting in Afghanistan. Standing with the throng, I actually felt proud (yes, e'en so) to be part of the town.

The constant barrage of pointless news about MPs expenses had been making me feel particularly lacklustre about British cares and priorities - and the turnout for a bunch of guys who had been doing a particularly tough job (which killed several of their number) gave me a bit of optimism again.

My brother-in-law was out in Helmand recently, which made the event all the more moving.

And watching the TV crews and reporters scurrying about the scene made me miss (for the first time?!) local journalism.

All good for the soul.

A thousand suicidal suns?

2009-05-08T17:05:00.002+01:00

Not sure I should have opted to read the truly depressing second novel by Khaled Hosseini (his first being the Kite Runner).

What an onslaught. Gut-wrenching disaster after gut-wrenching disaster. Admittedly, I haven't finished it yet - will there be a ray of light and laughter at the end? Somehow I doubt it....though I'm ploughing on in hope.

I don't mind a dark novel. I don't mind a sad novel. In a perverse way, I even enjoy reading about mistreated women because it gives me more material for my occasional feminist soapbox. And I realise life Afghanistan's recent history is hardly a bed of roses.

But reading this is comparable to sitting through a bad sermon. You feel that once the guy's got you sitting there, he takes the chance to throw his worst at you because he knows you'll be too embarrassed to get up and leave.

My view doesn't seem to be the popular one. Most reviews of the book are glowing. Is this because people feel they ought to enjoy it? Or am I missing something?

Misled in childhood......or haunted by zombie bodyparts?

2009-03-29T18:18:00.002+01:00

If your hair and nails are dead, how can they grow?

Family matters......

2009-03-07T18:22:00.002Z

Talking about family on a blog is a bit of a minefield....but what care I for danger?

Ever noticed the weird stuff you pick up from your parents? Having always been totally baffled by my Mum's fear of heights, dislike of the sensation of biting an apple and refusal to drink coffee first thing in the morning, and until recently sharing none of those traits, I now find myself developing all of them. Why? Huh?!

And, increasingly, I realise many of my deepest beliefs are inherited. Not just from parents, but in a Chinese whispers way from grandparents as well. No doubt it goes further back.

Kind of scary. And yet reassuring in a culture that bangs on incessantly about how we all have the power to be what we want to be. (Ahem.) Not quite sure what it says about faith. Certainly makes me fear for any future offspring......

Book my Face!

2009-02-20T16:25:00.003Z

I joined the Facebook game rather late, being a bit stubborn and all, and as I feared it has insinuated its way into my life rather menacingly.

There's something weird about it. Perhaps its creepy because:

it's so quick and easy to establish contact with someone via Facebook that the urge to phone, email and even text just kind of fades. I've always been a bit crappy at that stuff (seeing people face-to-face is really the only way) but it has made me worse
the temptation to collect friends like stamps is hard to resist. (And what is the etiquette if someone asks you to be their friend, gets 'ignored' as you haven't heard of them since you were three, and then after a week or so asks again?! Hello!!)
I never know when accepting a gift or something means my details will forever be inscribed on an infernal marketing list that keeps sending me inane messages about pink frogs until I cave in and sell my soul. Or something.

Ah, well. This modern world is just too much for me. But I shall press on with courage and fortitude.

Yes We Can!

2009-02-08T15:23:00.003Z

My husband encourages me to "think positive", for I tend to worry and assume the worst will happen.

And lo, I have now found a spring of hope in the US of A. How one man can cope with becoming a symbol of rebirth for the entire world I do not know - and yet, I'm sure Obama can.

Until recently, I feared David Cameron was convincing people that hope lay in his direction. Surely, now they've seen the real thing they'll be a bit more sensible.

Like me. Level headed. Not at all prone to pinning my hopes on the latest fad........Or attractive man. Rational positivity is what we need.

Growing pains

2009-01-25T19:06:00.005Z

Is mine a 'mature' faith?

Over the past year or so, I became a bit disillusioned with it: to consider it childish.

I was treating the Lord like a spiritual PA. There to help me in times of trouble, to care about my thoughts and feelings, answer my prayers, reveal truth to me, use me in his service....Me, me, me......

So, for a while I strove to see God as one more distant. To see him as unknowable, totally good and as such totally beyond me. To hesitate before uttering self-centred prayers. To wonder whether it is wise to use the word "God" so often, in such a carefree fashion. What do I know of him, anyway? How can I ever attribute motives or actions to one so removed - one so holy, if you like.

This thinking has gone deep. No doubt positive changes have occurred in me. But in keeping with the pendulum nature of my faith, it hasn't been entirely helpful.

I am afraid to say that my world does revolve around me. My views develop out of my trivial decisions and feelings. I do want God's attention, as does every small child. I do want to be the one who serves him best.

It is good to be self-aware and to remind myself that I can never own God. But it is also important to remember that Jesus, Immanuel, calls immature people to follow him. Indeed, he relies on such people to represent him. It might be helpful for them to grow up. But often (and I hate to admit to this) it is my childishness, weaknesses and misunderstandings that best display his strength and truth.

So, perhaps I shall go back to blurting out all my selfish desires to God. He knows about them anyway.

And, I guess if I'm ever mature enough not to have selfish desires, it won't occur to me to pray about them. I'll never even realise that the growing up has happened.....

A breach in your breeches?

2009-01-04T12:41:00.005Z

Well, there we go. As my great grandad used to say at 6pm every December 25th, "it's as far away as ever now." "It" being Christmas. He was a 'glass half empty' man.....but year ends do make me stop to ponder the 'rolling stone' nature of life.

As I review and expect this Epiphany, I think of the two siblings who got married in 2008. Another will do so in 2009. (Two to go - my poor old Mum may dissolve in a pool of anxiety before we're done.)

Several cousins and a best friend had babies last year.

The family is planning for a 30th, a 50th and two 60th birthday celebrations in '09. I'm sure there are other significant milestones that haven't dawned on me yet.

I have made my recurring resolutions, mainly relating to attitudes of mind and tendencies towards OCD. I may succeed this time. After all, I am 30 and if I don't nip these things in the mature blossom, it may be too late. I could be eternally neurotic.....Imagine!

Hey ho. Into the breach......

Breech?

why oh why?

2008-11-16T18:59:00.004Z

I enjoy eating the following foods in large quantities:

Haribo
Sour apple sweets
Peanut butter
Salted popcorn
Mashed banana
Capers (on their own)
Tinned prunes

But how to enjoy them freely? Should I become a social outcast (a tablespoon of capers and a bowl of peanut butter for tea)? Or obese (eat tea and then sneak back to the kitchen for a tablespoon of capers and a bowl of peanut butter)?

Ah, to know such trials is to know what it is to be truly alive...........

A little project

2008-10-29T20:21:00.002Z

Every now and then I write a poem. I find it takes me weeks to write one, and then I give up on it all for months at a time. Prolific is not quite the word.....

What I have written strikes me as being, on the one hand, quite good and, on the other, trite and awful.

Anyway, I'm going to publish a few of them here.

My most recent project has been to create my own versions of the psalms.

downward spiral?

2008-09-27T11:46:00.005+01:00

Yesterday, I was 30.

Thirty. Aaaaaaaaaaaargh. What on earth will happen to me now? Wrinkles? Flab? Neurosis? Enhanced parental features of the irritating variety? Blindness, deafness, joint trouble.....?

And I haven't even had kids yet, what the heck is wrong with me?!

Anyway, there is at least some silver lining to this sagging old cloud. To celebrate the glorious sun on my great day, Jon and I stepped out of our front door in Chepstow, walked all the way to Tintern Abbey along the Wye, had a pub lunch and walked home. So things aren't all bad, not quite yet.

Give me a few days and I won't be able to walk at all, no doubt. Must appreciate it while I can......

"...and don't dilly dally on the way..."

2008-09-15T09:32:00.002+01:00

I sit surrounded by boxes and dismantled bits of shelving. It's fairly unsettling.

Jon and I had our last days of work on Friday. We spent Saturday & Sunday packing: the last battle with boxes is today. Currently, I'm waiting for NatWest to pick up the phone so I can alter credit card address details.

Quite how we take the bed apart remains to be discovered....

We've hired a van from Tuesday morning to Thursday morning and will do 2/3 runs to Chepstow and back in that time. Loading the van and car will be joyous, I'm sure. Especially as we live in a first floor flat.

Hey ho! As soon as my body catches up with my mind's acceptance of the fact things are changing, all shall be well.

Better be, anyway.

second coming?

2008-09-08T21:29:00.003+01:00

My footsteps are light

I've a song in my heart.

She's back!

(And I challenge any cynics to a duel......)

Spike is dead!

2008-07-06T17:05:00.002+01:00

From a recent fancy dress evening.

Can you guess who we are?

Can ya?

a solitary place

2008-06-27T15:58:00.005+01:00

Today I am having a day off work for no reason.

In one week, I move to Canterbury for a month of Lambeth Conference shinnanigans .... so I took the last chance for a pyjamas-until-11am, home-bound-except-to-pop-out-for-something -indulgent-from-Tescos kind of day.

A chance not just to slob but to ponder on 'Intuitive leadership: embracing a paradigm of narrative, metaphor & choas' by Tim Keel.

Books often cohere thoughts I've been having. In fact, I sometimes rely on them for that. Keel challenged me to set the books aside more often, just try to 'be' with God (now why should that sound so cheesy?) and trust the incoherence.

He discusses churches' need to control the world with market research, Willow-Creek-modelled services and meetings. He advocates a bit of chaos and uncertainty. He asks churches to be more silent, in worship and in posture, to listen to voices from their margins, voices that might be emotional, incoherent, naive, lacking in confidence, abrasive.

He advocates more stillness. Do you need to be still? I do. My noisy world moulds me into an achiever and consumer. A purpose-driven pain in the arse. Even in prayer, I want to reach God in order to be a better person, in order to know him more fully, in order to energise myself for action, in order to change the world.....enough orders. What about enjoying God? What about him enjoying me?

One of the reasons church leadership is wrong for me at this time is because it would be something I have sought before I have sought God. Something I have idolised. Even if that's not the intention, or even the case at the start, somewhere along the line that's what would happen. 'Leading' in any formal, institutional way is a too-easy route to that mythical place where I can hear God better and where others are more likely to listen to me.

I need to stop aiming for the future and learn to hear God where I am, with one foot at least in the margins. I need to stop worrying about whether or not others can hear me. That doesn't really matter. God's word is already amongst us, having arrived as a middle-eastern baby in a cowshed. Somehow, I think I need to give up worrying my pretty little head about how he'll communicate the things we all need to hear.....and just listen.

So now we know!

2008-06-01T20:33:00.002+01:00

Following my rather cryptic entry a few weeks back, I am now in a position to confirm what's happening with me & Jon in the Autumn. Post Lambeth...that faint whiff of future.....

On September 29, I shall start working as an Events Manager with Affinity Events in Chepstow and Jon shall start a second (ahem) PhD in Complexity Science at Bristol University. Dr Dr. Oh yes.

This is all good because:
a) Jon is clearly an academic not a teccie
b) the people and ethos of Affinity seem very well suited to my personality and priorities
c) we shall be getting out of London, the tube, the traffic, the stress, the status anxiety treadmill, the vast expense
d) we shall be getting into the Wye Valley, walks from the doorstep to Tintern Abbey, a rent free five-bedroom house, Bristol on the doorstep (and vastly less money, but what the heck. In fact, that will be fun, too.)

All less than four months away. If we stay in Chepstow longer term, which I kind of hope we will, our children may have to learn to speak Welsh. Can this get any more exciting??!!

(For those wondering what may have happened to my dreams of ordination, well, perhaps they shall resurface. But for pragmatic as well as principled reasons, I shall be exercising my ministry in a 'lay' capacity. Lying down, at times)

2008-04-22T22:28:00.002+01:00

I recently got to wondering what the celebrities I love have to say about me. (I am an important person with important things to think about.)

I love Britney. Blonde again hurray!
I love Victoria and, to a lesser extent David, Beckham.
I love, in rather nostalgic fashion and in complete awareness of his lack of skill, Keanu.
I love Daniel Craig.
I like Kate Moss and whoever she happens to be going out with.
I am a bit interested in the Cruises.
I once loved Eminem, though he seems to have disappeared and even I am forgetting him.

But my admiration is not determined by how much they are in the media. Nor necessarily by how beautiful they are, though appearance certainly has something to do with it. I am not at all, for instance, interested in any other supermodels - especially wierd looking Aygynyeys Dyeyny or whatever - or footballers, or female popstars. Kylie is really boring, I'm afraid.

So, what is the common thread? Why do I love who I love? Who do you love and why?

(If you have no interest in celebrities you are clearly flawed and should seek help).

time present, time future and all that....

2008-04-13T15:52:00.004+01:00

Having a two-year job, building up to a specific project, is strange. Just as you're most preoccupied with (or stressed out by??) the task in hand, you're most conscious of its pending completion.

Freelancers or the self-employed face that kind of feeling all the time, of course. But people like me, with a touch of the control freak and a shedload of the pessimist thrown in, will avoid it if possible.

Thankfully, and even remarkably with five months to go, I'm almost certain the next step is sorted. But the strangeness remains, as now I feel torn between the demands of current responsibilities and those of a shadowy future that needs planning........

I find most things in life strange, and emotionally draining. That's just my weird old nature. But I think it's true to say that, reflecting on previous 'changes' in life, I am getting better at trusting God. I am getting better at seeking first the kingdom and believing that all other things will be added. The unknown is exciting, at least some of the time.

They say you get less able to cope with change as you get older. Not true for me thus far. (But perhaps 'older' refers to over 30? I shall no doubt become madly neurotic in later life. Such joys Jon faces........)

Went, saw, avoided all thought of conquering...

2008-04-03T20:35:00.010+01:00

I am returned! My time in Zambia, Malawi and South Africa was great. Warm weather, friendly welcomes, hitch-free travel (almost.)

The aforementioned hitch was that we got stuck for 24 hours in Harare, which was unnerving...glad I'm not still stuck there. It was a strangely subdued place. Kind of weary.

There's an underlying strangeness about being in Africa at all. As a white, rich, Westerner you can't help feeling responsible for the problems there still are in the continent, and as if you don't deserve to benefit from all the many wonderful things there.

But the Garden Route of South Africa is a truly fabulous place for a holiday. And, at the moment anyway, flipping cheap. You can get a posh meal out with wine for a tenner. And a good night's accommodation for £15.

fare forward, voyagers

2008-03-08T14:36:00.002Z

Tomorrow I am flying to Zambia. I will spend two days in Ndola and then three in Lusaka. After that I go to Malawi, where I'll be based in Blantyre for four days.

And then I fly to Cape Town to meet Jon and travel around the southern part of South Africa for ten days. Elephant parks and eveything.

The first bit is supposed to be work - and I will be meeting lots of bishops and spouses to talk about the Lambeth Conference - but really the whole three-week trip is just a very exicting opportunity!

I shall endeavour to photograph things. And avoid mossies.

Tag!

2008-02-18T21:57:00.002Z

I got tagged by Steve. See his blog for the rules.

Given that the thing is about books, I shall comply........

In turn I'll tag Lucy, Phil, Lizzie & Vicky - all literary genii (?) in their own way. Sorry my blogging friends are so depleted that I cannot drag a fifth into it.

Here are sentences 5-7 from p123 of the book closest to me right now:

"What the frog said came to pass, and the queen gave birth to a girl; she was so beautiful that in his joy the king didn't know what to do and arranged a great feast. He invited not only his relatives, friends and acquaintances, but also the wise women, that they might be gracious and well-disposed toward the child. There were thirteen of them in his kingdom, but because he only had twelve gold plates from which they might eat, one of them had to stay at home."

Pretty cool, eh? Especially as the title of the book is 'Congregation: stories and structures'.....

??!!

three things of note this week

2008-02-09T13:02:00.000Z

1. My husband has laughed heartily at the sight of his wife attempting to put t-shirts on after getting typhoid, tetanus, polio, hepatitus and diptheria injections all in one go.

2. Rowan Williams has been treated crappily by the media, again. In my most melodramatic moments, I see parallels between this and Christ before the crowds shouting 'crucify'. In any case, it's all rather horrible.

3. I have been excited to read this book by Kester Brewin. It says new things in a courageous fashion and, while I balk at some of it, is an honest engagement with church culture by somebody who cares deeply for it while willing it to change.

beware - blog therapy!

2008-01-23T19:04:00.000Z

I'm rather an emotional little flower, and find myself on the edge of a weepy ledge today. Not angst-ridden, but kind of sad.

Reading this book on the train home from work nurtures the woe. It's quite wonderful but not brimming with joy, in as much as it tracks the progress of a family coping with a young daughter/sister's murder. (Highly recommended, all the same.)

Church politics - at work, on Sundays and according to rumour - weigh me down. Like any community, Christian organsations can wander far from caring for what's most important - the precious, vulnerable sanctity of human lives. Sometimes I feel we're altogether lost.

It is easy to get despondent. I'm convinced there's cause for hope and joy in mankind, the church, the future....and yet......

I don't see what's happening from the top of the hill: I see my immediate surroundings of messy city in the valley. But I do wish that deep goodness in which I firmly believe could be a bit more aggressive with the mess sometimes. Surely we shouldn't be left to our own devices to quite this extent?

Ah, well. We have hyacinths growing in the dining room. And the mornings are getting lighter. And I'm not patiently enduring the view from the top of the hill. That I'm sure I couldn't cope with.

New Year, new tactics?

2008-01-05T21:56:00.001Z

Well, people, as you will see from this and most others it links to, all has been rather quiet on my little blogging network for a while.

Being rather worse at giving in than is good for me, I'm resisting. But I may need a new approach. Possibly 'Whose Line is it Anyway' style blog fashioning: 'every entry must be written on a Tuesday from the perspective of the last person I fought for a seat on the tube'. Or, 'every entry must be written in iambic pentameter'. Etc.

If anyone actually still bothers to read my ramblings, do offer up a suggestion. It might be the creative lease of life I need......

alas alack!

2008-01-05T21:47:00.001Z

My dear Britney has been tipped (irretrievably?) over the edge. I am quite upset about this. No doubt not as scarred as her two small children will be, but nonetheless....time for a moment of quiet.

truth on demand

2007-11-14T20:20:00.000Z

Every now and then my loyalties to the media bubble up to the surface. (It's the nearly four years working for local newspapers what done it.....)

You do get some idiotic criticisms of the press.

I was recently encouraging colleagues from different parts of the UK to promote their good work in local media. One lady objected to doing so because "even if you tell the reporters exactly what to write, in a letter or email, they write something different."

Now, excuse me, but would you email a sermon to your vicar and expect him to preach it verbatim? Would you tell your doctor what you thought was wrong with you and expect him to meekly obey your guidance on the best medication?

There are many valid criticisms of the media. But do we really want reporters to write exactly what those with vested interests tell them to? Think that might actually compromise our nation's democratic status.....

vocation, vocation, vocation

2007-11-03T17:11:00.001Z

It dawned on me today that my idea of a dream job has changed.

Maybe 18 months ago, somebody asked me my ideal line of work and I admitted to a strange yet compelling fantasy that I would make a great Archbishop of Canterbury.

That phase is now, thankfully, over.

My sense of calling directs me elsewhere these days.

I wish to go over to Malibu and become mentor, friend and saviour of Britney Spears.

I guess, as we grow older, our inner longings subtly change.

Bloggers unite!

2007-10-10T21:59:00.000+01:00

I am having a blog spree because it has been rumoured by the otherwise sensible and respectable Lucy and Mel that the world of blogging is being overshadowed by the world of Facebook.

Oh no.

Blogs are about effort, creativity and the occasional bit of humiliation. Hot and cold spells. Like a long-term relationship. Facebook is a series of one night stands.

Quick, everyone, get blogging.

(Or am I overreacting......?)

self perception

2007-10-10T21:32:00.000+01:00

Self-perception....it's a funny old thing.

I am not a large person. But there are days when I become convinced I'm fat. This is sometimes due to the wonders of the monthly hormone tournament, but not always. Today I was feeling fed up about being flabby. I then went to the gym and, surrounded by mirrors, felt pleased with a reassuringly thin reflection of myself. What a wally!

Generally, I don't do too badly at avoiding the world's obsession with looks. But maintaining a healthy self-image is a struggle.

Preoccupation with how I think others 'perceive' me is another tendency of mine. It can get extreme: without realising it, I can act, speak and decide things just because they fit with my automatic analysis of others' expectations of me at a given moment.

These are not good things, really. I will try to enjoy and be free in who I am (externally and internally.) That's harder said than done in a society obsessed with image and immediacy. But it has to be possible, nontheless. And, in the words of that great inspirational force, L'Oreal, I'm worth it!

A biblical burlesque?

2007-10-10T20:58:00.000+01:00

I've been learning about the Old Testament book of Esther this week.

It's a wicked story. Readable, gripping. Famous for making no mention of God at all. I knew it quite well already, but guiding me through this time is a commentary by Professor Carol Bechtel. Among my discoveries so far, according to Bechtel, are:

1. The story is probably mostly fictional (not that the author or readers of its time would have understood a distinction between history and fiction in the way we do today.) The author uses dramatic irony, exaggeration, suspense, to create tension and entertainment. Comic 'burlesque', occasionally veering on the edge of tragedy, is how Bechtel describes the genre. The question is, does one attempt to pose to an evangelical Baptist audience the theory that part of the Old Testament is most likely fictional?Hmmmm....

2. The existing Jewish festival of Purim is all about Esther's story. Traditionally, at Purim, the book is read aloud in its entirety, with the audience booing and hissing at the mention of the baddies and cheering when Esther's in the picture. It is also customary for everyone to, quite deliberately, get very drunk. It's the only festival where that's an official part of the proceedings. Think it's ok to mention this fact, as long as I don't advocate it as a way forward for the Baptists.

It is also an inspirational tale for anyone who feels vulnerable, at the mercy of life's circumstances. Esther was essentially a refugee who became a sex-slave. Yet in her most vulnerable position, she made decisions that saved the Jews from annihilation. Think such strength in weakness is seen elswhere in the bible, too.......

opinionated? moi?

2007-09-28T16:48:00.000+01:00

I'm pretty awful at making my mind up, as I've been reminded this week.

If you want to find a community of people with opinions fiercely held and dizzyingly diverse, you can't do better than the Anglican Communion.

The media had a bit of a field day with this last week, thanks to an emotional and very significant meeting in America that could, allegedly, have split the global Anglican community asunder. (I won't go into the details - they're all over the internet if you're interested. Suffice to say the 'split' didn't happen.)

As one of the 'stay-at-home' staff in my office, I spent quite a bit of time following reports about the work of my colleagues out in the US.

In reading those reports day by day, I swung wildly from being proud and supportive of Rowan Williams' and others' desire to hold the communion together, to thinking unity isn't worth the price we're paying for it, to wondering what on earth 'unity' can mean in anything other than a local context anyway, to thinking Anglicanism is a big waste of time, to feeling ashamed at my own arrogance and lack of willingness to respect those who think differently to me, to.....ah, the list goes on.

Am I missing something in being incapable of deciding what I actually believe from all these arguments? In changing my mind (almost) every time I hear an empassioned statement from one side or another?

I cannot understand how so many people can feel so convinced that what they're thinking and feeling is definitely right, while what others think is definitely wrong. (All thinking they're on God's side, of course).

I could never be a politician. My epitaph would be: 'she tried out so many ideas: she must have had the right one at some point or other'.

Hurray!!

2007-09-13T20:42:00.001+01:00

Amidst all the meetings/listening to annoying people hold forth about pointless stuff/lack of resources/paranoia that I might be part of a doomed organisation, there are times when I like working in a 'lay' (aaarghhhhhh!) capacity for the church.

The best things about working for the Lambeth Conference are the numerous encounters and relationships that don't revolve around misguided priorities, cynicism or the desire for control. Also nice are the occasional but distinct impressions I get that I matter, even as a tiny cog in a big wheel, and regardless of what everyone else thinks I and the wheel are up to.

Today I had a chuckle of glee to see that a web page I helped create is being discussed in some lighthearted, sensible and (indirectly) encouraging forums. Really, the Anglican Communion doesn't always need to be a matter of 'life and death'.....................

See this on The Lambeth Conference Marketplace and the related links/discussion.

Hurrah! A little bit of light is all you need.

flower power.

2007-08-25T15:20:00.000+01:00

My week has been
cheered up a lot by
these lovely lillies that
Rich and Mel bought me,
which gradually flowered over about 10 days
and have only just passed their best.
Juicy,
lovely,
smily
lillies!

Two small things in my life.

2007-08-22T19:13:00.000+01:00

On Sunday night we went to see The Bourne Ultimatum. Great trilogy...many good reasons to go and see the third installment. Here are two minor ones: the actor playing the Guardian journalist looks uncannily like each and every Guardian journalist your imagination has ever conjured; (and for you Londoners) it's unreasonably exciting to watch a lengthy chase-scene in which Matt Damon paces intently past the all-too-familiar shops of Waterloo station.

Yesterday I unusually (for a week day) read the whole of the forementioned newspaper. Had my feminist angst aroused by an article on the results of a recent sociological study, examining reasons for the pay-gap between men and women. The research followed on from another study that revealed women are paid less because they don't tend to negotiate/ask for more money so, of course, they don't get it. Cue jump to favoured conclusion - "If women stopped being silly, they'd be treated equally." But the new study indicates that, in fact, women don't negotiate because, consciously or not, they know a lady who 'asks for more' is generally disliked and thus disadvantaged in the workplace. A man who requests more money may or may not get it but he has nothing to lose. A woman who asks for extra dosh will most likely be despised, and so why would she bother? Hmph, I say, hmph.

Doctor, doctor

2007-08-03T09:36:00.000+01:00

For the first time since junior school I have been prescribed something by the doctor because of illness. I became very confused when the pharmacist charged me £6.85 for my prescription. Payment? Eh? Don't we have an NHS?

How the world has changed since my youth. (Or maybe my mum picked up the tab back then.......)

Something to be grateful for, though: I am so unused to being unwell that I didn't know prescription charges existed.

I really am very, very sorry....

2007-08-03T09:02:00.000+01:00

...but I am now a fully-fledged Big Brother house addict. I watch it at least once a day. See what being incapacitated for a fortnight does to you?

Anyway, the sad thing is that BB-related psychological trauma is now kicking in. This always happens if I allow myself to get sucked in. Usually towards the end of a series, I get unhealthily involved with one housemate or other. This began many moons ago, as I felt distressed on behalf of an expelled Nasty Nick......

I am now emotionally attached to Amy. She seems very eager to be liked (sniff) and a little bit dim. She's ended up being blamed by everyone for recent 'semi-evictions' into the Halfway House. (sniff, sniff) Carole is trying to make everybody hate her. (waaaaiiiilll!) And Liam - EVEN LIAM - is being a stereotypical male chauvinist git to her. I had liked Liam. I am so let down. (boo hooooooooo!)

Really, I think it's a good job that I can't follow the lives of my actual acquaintances in the amount of detail that Big Brother allows. Being party to all the tiny social complexities of a person's existence turns me into a hyper-empathetic nervous wreck.

Enough time wasting. Must get back to the telly.......

I AM ILL

2007-07-28T11:17:00.000+01:00

There's nothing like being sick to remind you of your human limitations. I may like to think my body is under my control - but clearly I'm wrong. Currently I feel like a hippo, despite really trying to feel like Anna.

The beginnings of the lurgy were hot sweats and a sore throat, followed by a cough and headache, followed by jaw-ache and eye-ache, followed by sinus ache, later enhanced with lots of snot. Have spent 3 days alternating between bed and the sofa.

Incredibly annoying. I give myself little tasks: remain in bed for one hour - you'll feel better; drink tonnes of fruit juice - you'll be able to do some work tomorrow; get some fresh air - you'll kickstart your system and feel healthier. All miserable failures.

Do you think resurrection bodies will obey our instructions?

singing for my supper

2007-07-24T18:12:00.000+01:00

Last week we had a summer social event at work, to which lots of VIPS were invited.

Against my will and to my surprise, I ended up entertaining this crowd with the rusty tones of my cello. Almost entirely unrehearsed.

Here's the tale: several months ago I decided this BBQ event would be cheered considerably by live music. Colleagues agreed wholeheartedly, so I got on the case. A professional musician in the family suggested I contact a friend of hers who runs a music agency. I did so, she was very helpful and we decided she would organise two violinists to play a couple of hours of jazz at the BBQ, at a slightly reduced rate. Excellent. Entertainment sorted. I emailed her just to confirm all the details after we spoke.

She didn't reply to my email but I didn't worry: musicians are artists after all, you have to allow for a bit of disorganisation. And we'd already sorted all the details by phone.

I called her three weeks before the event, to confirm all was well, and left a voicemail message. I then went on holiday.

When I came back, 4 days before the BBQ, there had been no return call from her. And still no email. I began to worry. I kept calling and emailing: no response. The BBQ was on Thursday. When I still hadn't heard from her at Wednesday lunchtime I decided a backup plan was needed.

A Warwickshire friend happened to be at a literature conference in London on Thursday and Friday, and was staying with us on the Thursday night. I texted her and asked her to bring her violin along, then downloaded some duets from www.virtualsheetmusic.com

I carted the cello into work on Thursday morning. Danny arrived fresh from a day's conference, loaded with her violin, at 6pm. The professionals hadn't showed up. So we ran upstairs, practiced the music I'd downloaded and then performed for half an hour. It was ok. Not of a professional standard, not polished, but ok.

I felt curiously staisfied with this. It takes a lot to make me get the old cello out these days - but nice to know I can pull it off if I need to.

(I'd love to tell you who the blinking music agency are.....but maybe there was a really excellent reason for their utter unreliability, so I'll refrain.)

quick update...

2007-07-17T19:02:00.000+01:00

...as I've been off the scene for a while.

It was our second wedding anniversary yesterday. My husband is very good.

Had hols near Fort William last week. Reasonable weather, good food, fabulous scenery. We climbed Ben Nevis, leaped into bogs (by accident) and went on the 'Harry Potter to Hogwarts' train ride. The highlands of Scotland are really beautiful - and I only got three midge bites.

The week before that was also holiday for me but Jon had a course, so I did lots of reading and pottering near home. I have read: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (brilliant, simple, unnerving prose); Death in Venice by Thomas Mann (disturbing, complicated prose); The Secret Message of Christ (think that's the title - another by Brian McLaren. Good but not as much of a revelation as The Last Word and the Word After That) and I began A House for Mr Biswas by V S Naipaul (funny and moving so far.) Think there was something else but I forget......

One good thing about a train ride to work is that I get more reading done generally. I am enjoying being back into the swing of books again.

Lambeth live!

2007-06-28T18:56:00.000+01:00

After what seems like an eternity, the new Lambeth Conference website is finally uploaded. Anyone interested in seeing what I'm working on, visit it here.

Good day....!

2007-06-22T09:13:00.000+01:00

(Warning: long post.)

I have just finished 'The last word and the word after that' by Brian McLaren. It's 'creative non-fiction' - an academic/theological exploration of something dressed up in a novel.

Dan Poole, is a pastor under 'investigation' by his church because he seems to be preaching liberal theology from the pulpit of his (increasingly) conservative church. His character is used to explore various ideas about God's character, about mission and about hell.

I knew the 'eternal fires type hell' to be a human construct, built by Dante and others rather than biblical writers. But I didn't know that 'hell' wasn't really a concept at all for the Jewish people until very late. Establishing themselves as God's people in the here and now, in this world, was their only concern for a very long time.

If my understanding of what McLaren says is right, an 'afterlife' concept of hell was later adopted for very pragmatic reasons. The Jews were persecuted. And yet they knew themselves to be God's people. Two difficult facts to reconcile. So, the question: 'why aren't things as they should be for us?' was answered: 'because somebody must be screwing it up.' Who?

For the zealots, the people screwing it up were those Jews who submitted to Roman authority. The zealots wanted to fight back - to bring Israel's God back to power in battle.
For the Essenes, the 'screw-ups' were the people who were too politically involved in fighting the powers and authorities of the physical world. The key to uplifting Israel was focus on the spiritual life, on God's law, etc, in detachment from 'worldy' things.
For the Pharisees, the scapegoats were 'sinners': people not keeping God's laws. So, in a sense, they developed a theory whereby those who didn't follow God's rules were destined for 'hell'. If they would only clean-up their act, the world would become perfect. Hence new and more detailed interpretations of God's laws became an obsession.

When Jesus came, he did indeed speak of a place like hell (in picture language and parable, and in such a way that we cannot possibly pin his meaning down). At least part of his intention in speaking of it was to turn the Pharisees' and others' misconceptions of 'hell' on their head. His purpose was very definitely not to drive fear into sinners and the marginalised.

In theory, none of this surprises me. But I am struck again by how pervasive is the theory 'a Christian's task is to save the unchurched from hell'. This can only lead to judgmental behaviour, to an overemphasis on a future world we can never understand and to incredibly patronising 'evangelism'.

Churches are there to usher God's perfect kingdom in and, yes, to introduce people to him. But the motivation for that is that life is immeasurably more empty without God, not because they'll go to hell after death. The bible does very clearly indicate that we will all face God's judgement, and that everything about us will be revealed at that time. But the emphasis is (I think) always on the 'process' of judgement. What happens afterwards is described in poetic, metaphorical, terms.

McLaren's book showed me again the reason I want to 'do stuff' in churches. I believe there is as much of a mission field inside the church as outside it. My passion is to help people who call themselves Christian to see how wonderful God is and how their understandings of him limit and demean him. And I include myself there.

McLaren begins: I believe that God is good. No thought I have ever had of God is better than God actually is."

Amen! Perhaps there's an awful lot of deconstruction work to be done before Christian communities will allow God, in all his fulness, into their midst. And perhaps, when they manage to do that, God's kingdom will really be upon us.

Let's get to it, I say.

Bad day.....?

2007-06-19T19:08:00.000+01:00

Is it wise to rant about work on a blog?

Ah well....wisdom's overrated anyway. I know you'll all take this with a pinch of salt. Please.

The order of the work-related events that have annoyed me:
1. I was asked by my manager to represent my team on a particular group, which has significant responsibilities.
2. Another team member, with similar role to myself, told me he would also be joining the group (though he couldn't make the particular meeting I describe below, which happened yesterday) because its chairman had invited him. This irritated me (can't I be left to do this on my own?) but I let it pass.
3. I was asked by one of the group members, who works in my office, to prepare a contribution for the meeting (something he had been 'tasked' with, but thought it 'would be good for me' to do.)
4. Obedient as ever (!!), I prepared this quite thoroughly along with a handout.
5. I arrived at the meeting: the members, who have all met me at least once, seemed rather vague about who I was. Given that I am one of three people on the management team for the project towards which we are all working, this was disconcerting. The meeting provided no opportunity for introductions.
6. The meeting began with a eulogy of the colleague mentioned in 2, who had at some stage spoken privately with the group chairman and established himself as being "clearly the person in the know" about my team's activities. I sat there like a lemon, wondering if it struck anybody else around the table that perhaps I too would be 'in the know' about my team's activities.
7. The chair proceeded to speak to the group about the topic that I had prepared. I tried to interject, as the papers I had copied would have helped everyone get a handle on what he was saying: this wasn't welcomed.
8. I eventually said I had prepared some material that people might like to look at. I was thanked but told its distribution could wait until the end. The conversation then went off on various tangents until...
9. ...I had to leave the meeting early, so made my apologies and left my hand-outs on the table.
10. As I was walking out of the door, I heard someone say: "well, these documents are very useful".

Now, I accept some of the blame. I can be a bit diffident and uncertain. And one can't expect to be listened to just because one is present and attempting to speak. A little self-assertion is surely necessary.

But, no, actually, I would hope that when judging who to listen to I consider it enough for a person to be a) present and b) attempting to speak. At least, until I know them well enough to realise that everything they say is rubbish......!!

Did I mention the male:female ratio in this group? Some other time.

some things that have been going on

2007-06-13T21:21:00.000+01:00

1. Discussion at house group that touched on marital breakdown. Quite distressing. Decided changes in attitude to loyalty in marriage have developed in a similar way to changes in attitudes to loyalty at work: people are no longer prepared to stick it out down the mines, or in the call centre, day in day out, unless there's no way out. And I can understand that. Just very grateful that I have an extremely wonderful marriage. And hope I will remain grateful.

2. Some time in the next couple of weeks Jon and I will be interviewed about our elligibility for church membership at the place we've been worshipping for seven months. Good old Baptists!

3. Watermelons, sunburn, mojitos and picnics have all taken place in the last fortnight. Hurrah!

4. Watched Jarhead. Enjoyed it. Very stylish, quite disturbing, not a cliche in sight.

5. Have tried to write a post a few times about the lack of female bishops in our country but keep getting over excited/confused/verbose and needing to stop. It might appear one day.

films for a wet weekend

2007-05-28T20:05:00.000+01:00

Jon and I have watched two films this weekend. Last night, we saw Red Road on dvd. Today we went to Spiderman 3 at the cinema. Fair to say the two aren't that much alike.

Red Road is set on a depressing Glasgow council estate where people's lives are filled with hardship and darkness. The acting is sensitive and, combined with minimal musical distraction and everso slight handheld camera giddiness throughout, makes for a believable, disturbing tale. The general mood is of despair and claustrophobia but there are plenty of gentle touches and signs of humanity: even light at the end of the tunnel. Despite the aimlessness of the first 45 minutes, a gripping story line does emerge. Watch out for the bedroom scene, though. Blinkin' heck! You don't want to see that with your mum and dad.

Spiderman's fun. Not as good as the first, or second, film but fun nonetheless. I like the dark suit and the hint of eyeliner when he's gone all nasty. But my question is, does anybody actually fancy Tobey Maguire? Lycra-bound muscle or not, I just don't get it, Mary Jane.

clothing

2007-05-19T16:08:00.000+01:00

Clothes shopping is one of my least favoured pastimes. This is because:

a) There's always something more satisfying to do
b) Clothes shops are generally full of crap
c) Changing room mirrors were designed in hell by a Kate Moss-shaped demon
d) Parting with money is stressful and should be reserved for the most pleasurable purchases. A bottle of wine, for example.
e) It's depressing to shop alone and irritating to shop with somebody who is more/less patient with the whole enterprise than myself (ie, everyone)

In recent months, this strife has matured like an unclipped hedge. I am now aware that I need to clothes-shop 'ethically', as well as everything else. Oh dear, oh dear.

There are, of course, plenty of 'ethical' or 'fair trade' online clothing places. I've bought nice things from Ganesha and The Green Apple. But internet clothes-shopping can breed hideous results.

I am steadily getting scruffier and scruffier. Many of my clothes are cast-offs from friends and family, greedily snapped up by me. It takes a lot to make me feel scruffy - but I am there.

Thankfully, dear reader, I recently found a solution to my problem.

It came in the form of an exchange of letters printed in the Guardian's ethical living column. A troubled reader said she just didn't know where to shop. She was under the impression that only inaffordable boutiques were 'ethical'. (She was advised that this is not the case. Expensive places are just as bad).

Among the various responses lay my gleam of light. A wise and wonderful woman wrote that the most ethical thing to do, when it comes to clothes shopping and indeed any kind of shopping, is not trawl the internet and magazines getting confused by contradictory information. No. You simply need to buy less.

Buy less. Genius. Hurrah. What more excuse do I need? I am scruffy because I am ethical, you well-clothed monsters. Just popping to the pub.....

me against the world!

2007-04-25T15:30:00.000+01:00

Many, many times I have explained to Jon that I am the slayer. He simply will not believe me. This may be because, mostly, I feel the need to hide my superhuman strength.

Now, thanks to Steve, I think my case is watertight.

And I'll hear none of this "but you look nothing like her in real life" nonsense.

shepherding the flock

2007-04-21T21:46:00.000+01:00

Jon and I went to North Devon recently to celebrate my Gran's 80th birthday. Lots, lots and lots of the Shepherd clan were present.

It was a good occasion, clearly meaning a lot to my Gran. We stayed in B & Bs, slept on floors and travelled around the windy Devon roads all weekend in her honour. She is a full-time carer for my Grandfather, now wheelchair-bound and increasingly lacking in confidence. I don't think he knows who I am any more, which is strange.

My Gran's feisty and sharp, though, and enjoys company (and being the centre of attention, I suspect!)

Jon discovered a Shepherd tradition he knew nothing of: Flanders and Swann. He had his head in his hands as young and old raised their voices in unison to tunelessly serenade my Gran with 'Mud, Mud Glorious Mud' at the party......

Good job he's already committed!

speaking trouble

2007-04-19T21:30:00.000+01:00

I am currently part-way through a week-long meeting.

This is difficult for me. I dislike even the shortest meetings. (Admittedly, most I've ever attended have been dominated by clergymen. But for once, this is not the root of my trouble).

I just can't speak normally in a meeting. Everything I utter is the result of frantic mental preparation and stress and materialises in rather garbled, nervy form. It's difficult to analyse such linguistic incompetence - I'd pass for articulate in almost every other scenario - but I'll try to pin down some of the reasons for it.

1) I'm keen to get any meeting over and done with, so why prolong them with my own speech?
2) Surely the other people in the room are cleverer than me and so already know what I'm about to say?..........
3) ....or else are so stupid that they won't understand what I mean anyway, so I may as well keep quiet.
4) Speech will reveal my extremely naive take on the situation being discussed.
3) 'Meeting talk' is a complex blend of conversation and public address. In conversation, I focus on people, not work. In public, I like to say amazing and life-changing things. It's impossible to do either satisfactorily in a meeting.
4) Unless I'm the chairman (heaven forbid), my role in a meeting is never entirely clear. How do I fit in? What am I supposed to say?

When asked to present a speech on a particular topic, I do it pretty well. When asked to be quiet and take minutes, I'll happily get on with it. But leave me to fend for myself in that grey area between 'practical tasks' and 'speech for its own sake' and I'll flounder.

Second problem this week has been the fact that I'm terribly self-conscious. After a day or so spent sitting silently in a meeting, I become increasingly convinced that everyone else is consumed by wondering why I don't contribute more. This leads to self-doubt and even, given half a chance, self-loathing.

My main question, I imagine, should be: in what way have I moved on since my 12th birthday?

Aaaah well. Onward and upward.

proverb for a romantic evening

2007-04-07T13:20:00.000+01:00

chopped chilli does
to the fingertips
what garlic does
to the breath

update on my life (or part of it)

2007-03-27T17:04:00.000+01:00

Few weeks back I blogged about my 'to try or not try for paid church ministry' dilemma.

Shortly after writing that post, I decided 'twas not the career for me: 'church leadership' systems are too riddled with temptation and corruption; the only real reason for entering into them is a need for status and respect; it's far too likely that, whatever my initial idealism, I would end up serving nobody but myself and contributing less to the world than I do as a lowly pew-warmer. Or getting stupidly busy and stressed. No, no, no, I thought. No, no, no.

Last week, for some reason that I really can't put my finger on, I began to change my mind (again). It struck me that, while I will be dubious about the concept of 'calling to the ministry' until it sits on equal terms in church dialogue with 'calling into banking' and 'calling into admin', it does in fact make practical sense for me to be a 'minister'. Just look at the things I'm good at, the things I enjoy, the things that move me and that I'm willing to make sacrifices for. Look at my history and my circumstances. It all works. I love God. I'm a Christian. I care about the church. I see potential for helping people to make the most out of their lives in a church context.

I've also come to the realisation that my current and my previous jobs have ruled out for me the option of ordination as an Anglican priest. For good or bad, my experiences in those contexts have put me off. Other experiences would have encouraged me, I know, and no doubt if I'd worked in Baptist House I'd be gagging for the C of E. But you only have one life!

Tomorrow I'm going to talk to my minister about all of this. Which is a bit nerve wracking because he hardly knows me. I tend to waffle vaguely when I'm nervous, so he might decide I'd be useless. Or I might change my mind about the whole thing before I get there.

We'll see.......

mr and mrs

2007-03-19T20:00:00.000Z

Two good friends got married at the gorgeous, old Lord Leycester Hospital building in Warwick on Saturday. Strangely, for somebody who was invited to 14 weddings last year alone (I kid you not) this was the first 'non church' wedding ceremony I'd been to.

The bride, Danny, looked stunning in scarlet. We ate Indian sweets, samosas and curry followed by mango ice cream, then danced to a juke box. I had been asked to read a couple of poems during the ceremony, which was a privilege but surprisingly scary. I'd have been fine with a bible.....

Danny and Alex have really been married for ages. They've been together ten years. It was fantastic to see them declare their commitment in the presence of people they love. I got so far into the sense of celebration that I had to hold my tongue to prevent the occasional 'amen' squeaking out. You can take the girl out of the church.......

Very good indeed. Congratulations, guys!

And, as always, it was great to catch up with friends in Leamington. Lovely, lovely friendies.

PS - One bizarre thing about civil marriagies is that there can be no mention whatsoever of relgion or God. I had, until Saturday, blamed this on militant secularists. But it turns out that the church requested it be so. Very, very worrying........

prayer?

2007-03-11T20:23:00.000Z

Read an article about prayer the other day. (Work-related hazard).

The writer was chiding Christians who pray fervently for trivial things, like a parking space at a busy supermarket. He said such prayers, and the ensuing praise when they are 'answered', are symptomatic of poor theology. Do we believe that God is prone to clicking his fingers and creating a parking space just because we ask? And, if that is what we believe, how do we justify the fact that the same God didn't do anything when someone else prayed that their friend wouldn't die of cancer. Or when so many prayed for an end to the Holocaust. Etc.

I get his point. I've been irritated with the 'parking space' Christians too.

But I've also done 'parking prayers'. (Actually, when I'm driving, my attitude is one of constant, fervent prayer that there will be no bloodshed.)

I know that prayer isn't about getting what I want. It's more profound than that.... But if my response to pathetic, trivial needs did not include reference to God, wouldn't that demonstrate an even more shallow theology? Doesn't thanking him for daily 'blessings' and blaming him for daily irritations demonstrate an awareness of his proximity?

Prayer is a deeply significant part of my life. But so much of it remains a mystery to me. And this guy got me thinking......

Whaddy'all reckon?

sex, sex, sex

2007-03-08T21:06:00.000Z

Flipping heck! Blog readers - I need a break from conversations about sex.

Homosexual sex is the big one. There are people in my office who make reference to this during every verbal exchange, be that a discussion of staples, communion wine or which pub to go to for lunch. At least one colleague, I'm sure, thinks of nothing other than gay people and what they get up to in the bedroom. Half the time I find this boring. Half the time, infuriating. Half the time, depressing.

And that's one half too many for anybody.

Furthermore, not a day goes by without me learning that some married person I've just met (often in an important church job) is having an affair. Or has had at least one affair with another married person in an important church job. Or is not to be trusted because they're always trying to have an affair.....

It's all rather disconcerting. I have been party to more conversations about sex in six months working for the Anglican Communion than I was during five years as a student of English Literature....

You can choose your friends.....

2007-03-03T21:30:00.000Z

We recently went out for dinner with Jon's sister, Rachel, and her fiance Tom. Tom is a Captain in the army.

They have a nifty little sports car. Four adults don't quite fit inside it. Tom and I, in the back, struggled a bit. Tom struggled most because the only spaces for his head were the parcel shelf and the area between the handbrake and the roof.

I would have felt sorry for him, had I managed to stop laughing for long enough.

Makes you worry a little for our country's military defences, really.......

Lent - what's it all about?

2007-02-23T11:19:00.000Z

Just read an interesting column in the Church Times about the current trend to make an achievement of Lent: it becomes a self-improvement or detox time. The writer, Giles Fraser, discusses how difficult it is, in our success-orientated society, to get away from that kind of mindset and do things simply because they get you off the treadmill for a while, disregarding altogether their 'purpose'.

It's a funny time, Lent. I always find it meaningful and moving but I'm not sure why. Easter is my favourite time of year: that's partly due to increasing hours of daylight. (The best time to start a new job is very early Spring: you begin full of anticipation of approaching summer and have a long wait before autumn term darkness and stress kicks in).

My most striking celebration of Lent was to give up make-up, when I was about 22 and took myself a little too seriously. (Which is not to say the make-up thing didn't do me good....) This year, I've been slightly less ambitious and simply given up reading the free Metro newspaper on the trains. The writing is awful and the content depressing: every other page is about someone stabbing someone or beating them brutally. I'm sure reading it has a negative impact on my day: so I'm trying to read the bible or a good novel instead.

Jon and I have given up alcohol on weekdays - unless abstinence would impact our socialising with others! So maybe we are buying into the 'detox' thing a bit.

I'm also checking out the ship of fools website each day: they have 40 suggested Lenten activities. Ship of Fools is never too pious or earnest, so I have high hopes.

Giles Fraser has also encouraged me to be less 'purpose-driven'.......and I think I'll enjoy that!

"...booked any holidays yet this year?"

2007-02-17T10:30:00.000Z

So. Yesterday I got my hair cut.

Is it just me, or are hairdressers' mildly stressful places?

First of all, I had to explain what I wanted 'doing'. And I haven't learned hairstyle language. "Make it shorter and tidier" is always my response, illiciting a sweet smile that says: "you are very dull indeed and clearly rather insufficient..."

Then they washed my hair in a basin and I wondered if my neck would ever recover.

At the cutting stage, you have to negotiate the disconcerting extremes of hairdresser behaviour. Some 'stylists' (did you notice that? That's the correct word, that is) talk incessantly and compel me to pretend to be deeply interested in things that, in reality, bore me to tears. Or they ask a barrage of questions, the answers to which confirm their suspicion that I am extremely odd.

Or else they don't speak at all, thus forcing me to gab away asking them questions that are probably equally confusing and uninteresting....

There's also the issue of being offered a drink. Aaargh. Yesterday I was thirsty and requested a squash when the chance arose. But just when are you supposed to take a glug? They place the cup on a table below the mirror in front of you, just out of reach without having to move your head. And they're cutting your hair, so you can't move your head. So the drink sits there, possibly getting cold. Often I just leave it, untouched. Yesterday I gulped the whole thing down while trying to pay. Probably dribbled a bit. But by then their opinion of me was so low that I'm sure it didn't matter.

After the cutting, I was asked what I thought about my new hair. "It's the same but neater" I wanted to say. But this seemed ungrateful. Instead I mumbled, as always, "very nice, thanks". What would happen if I ever hated it, I do not know. Probably "very nice, thanks."

Finally, can someone please tell me if you are supposed to leave a tip? To me, a hair cut seems way too expensive already. But I'm sure I'm not imagining the look of mild hatred and disdain that I'm usually given when I pay the exact amount and no more, waiting for 50p change if necessary?

I don't know.

Don't have to go through it again for a few months, at least.

lightness of being.....

2007-02-08T15:51:00.000Z

Looking at snow is a kind of otherworldly experience. It's such a bright white, it's so soft and omnipresent but so temporary. Its reflected light seems to travel through, behind your eyes and under your ribs.

Playing beautiful music makes you want to leave your body and dive into the world where that music really exists, without any interruption or flaw.

A deep snowfall and a moving melody evoke a kind of sensual excitment and longing that has to be something to do with the joys and the yearnings of mortality.....

I walked round the block at 715 this morning in my wellies, I was so excitable about the snow.
And the other day I rediscovered a piece of cello music that, somehow, I had forgotten all about. It is the most haunting piece of cello music I know. I hadn't played it for years. I can't play it very well any more but it was still a privilege to enter into its world again.

Praise God for the little, unexpected, gifts of life.

Bridget Jones

2007-02-01T08:41:00.000Z

Last night Jon agreed to watch some of 'Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason' with me. Hurrah!

This was no mean feat. It involved emotional anguish and mental wrestling for both of us: I'm not proud of everything I said and did in order to persuade him. We watched half of the film together, without injury or undue stress, and have taped the second half to watch some other time.I have to concede that two hours of such chicky flickyness isn't good for anyone's health.....

But I do like Bridget. She's the person I'd be if I allowed every silly thought and insecurity to manifest itself fully in my behaviour. The title 'The Edge of Reason' sums up her thought life perfectly. But, then, lots of her political views are spot on.

I can sense some concern among you, dear readers. Never fear, though, Jon is doing ok. We watched an episode of Angel afterwards, to re-establish his equilibrium before bed.

which bird do you fancy?

2007-01-26T20:55:00.000Z

My former boss used to tell me I was 'swan-like'. Sadly not due to grace or beauty. But because I always appeared calm and in control, regardless of how much my legs were flapping wildly underwater.

I can appear unruffled in most situations, regardless of how I feel. I can hide annoyance and distress when diplomacy so requires.

But is this a good thing?

Something that makes me really angry is when people act as if another person is inferior to them. Because they're young; female; not ordained; unattractive (in appearance or personality); too attractive (ditto); vulnerable; quiet; loud; of differing views to the majority; etc. Usually, this (very common) behaviour manifests itself in subtle ways. I think I usually spot it. And it really irritates me. (The only thing that gets me more angry is seeing someone being bullied.) But I tend to keep my irritation to myself.

Something that makes me really distressed is when relationships get hijacked simply because people insist on putting one another into categories. They say to themselves (something like): "I have put you into this 'box', I have defined you, and now, regardless of what you say and do, I will interpret it all according to my definition. So there's no way we can actually relate properly to one another."

This seems to be what's going on in so many of the church's rows at the moment. People don't actually interact, they just judge one another and let that judgement guide everything they do, and so things get sourer and sourer. And it happens all the time on the 'micro' level as well. In our friendships and workplaces.

Question I sometimes ask myself is, is it better to be a swan? Or to flap around like an ostrich in protest? Has anyone ever taken an ostrich seriously?