Moon from our window…
1
Category Archives: Uncategorized
De-rolling…
After the frenetic activity of the last few weeks and months comes the inevitable energy dip. I am in my second day of unemployment, with a contradictory long list of things that need to be done (and which I am not doing.) Partly I suppose this is OK as I kind of need a rest, but equally I know myself well enough to be careful of such uncertainty- inactivity can become a trough which takes some climbing out of.
It all feels a bit surreal- as if I can’t decide whether nothing has changed, or that everything has changed when I was looking the other way. I say this as some kind of record of what happens when you decide to re invent yourself by jumping out of the rat race into the unknown.
The one thing that will bring you up sharp against the new reality is this word- money. Michaela and I sat wondering how best to husband our resources in this time of transition last night, and I felt the old childhood anxieties rise.
And today I went to the Job Centre to sign on as unemployed, and to claim my Jobseekers Allowance. Despite years of advising and supporting others who claimed benefit, I have never claimed as an adult. However, I am a child of a single mother surviving on state benefits so this forced an examination of role and status which was understandably challenging!
I was told that my first ‘signing on’ date (where I report to describe my activities in relation to seeking employment) is next Tuesday- when we are away on holiday for a week. Cue kerfuffel as a form was produced for me to describe how I was going to continue to seek work, and to be available for work on my holiday. Is that not an oxymoron?
The staff in the job centre, it has to be said, were polite and friendly- perhaps even a little intimidated by my qualifications and background. However, the atmosphere of the place, shiny and clean as it is, was quite energy sapping. I think it is the general feeling of state censure and disapproval. The security guard who greets you at the door, and the clear cross-desk dividing line of us/them.
It has been clear to me in the past from my previous working life that people are changed by encounter with this kind of bureaucracy. It is not just that they are beaten down by the sense of loss of role and identity- it is also something more subtle- we are in danger of losing our sense of freedom, choice and adventure.
This, my friends, we can not allow to happen…
Moment
It happened, eventually. Today I left work to step into a period of great uncertainty.
I have taken redundancy, with no safety net, and it feels absolutely the right decision.
We are planning to spend some time converting some space in our house to be used a public space- a guest house, a retreat venue and a place where people can come to learn crafts and art. We have hopes and dreams but there is no certainty that this will work out.
Sorry to bleat on about this, it is not as if thousands of others are not having to try to reinvent life in the wake of redundancy or worse. But it does feel like a big deal- the turning of a life-page. And we only have a limited number of those.
As ever I was playing with words, as a means of processing some of what is going on in my head;
Moment
In the end it came quietly
No clatter of broken chains
No fanfare for the passing
Just another moment slipping by
But most unusually this one
Was not missed
But squarely met
And in the years to come
Who can say what now will look like from then?
Whether today will be the pivot on which this
Life turned
Or whether it is yet to turn again.
On the Aoradh workbench…
We are doing some work for installations to be used at Greenbelt festival– a combination of sculptural pieces and soundscapes/poetry. It is so lovely to be actually producing something- much of our work of late has been of the mental/community building kind.
There is an interesting old discussion which has at times been quite heated in Aoradh– what comes first, the task or the community? One of my friends actually left because he found the community bit too ambling and directionless- he wanted to get busy and use time efficiently. The business of community is rarely efficient. However, community for the sake of our selves, with no reaching out, no service, no connection- this would be a pointless thing, and certainly not a Jesus-like thing.
This years GB theme is ‘Saving Paradise’ and our part of contribution involves three pieces, representing sea, forest and river. We will use this in conjunction with soundscapes made in wilderness locations, along with poetry. These will be projected using ultrasonic speakers, which is a bit of tech that I am looking forward to playing with.
The sculptures are a bit trial and error, but here is the work so far- firstly the ‘Sea’ piece, which will have ‘sails’ attached;
Then there is the work that Pauline has done in designing some ‘flowers’ that will be attached to another piece of wood to represent ‘forest’. They look great- better than I had imagined they could be. Here is the prototype along with William for scale;
How to change the world…
Young people ought to want to change the world, so that they can remind the rest of us that we used to want to as well.
So rise up, generation coming- tear down walls and stand in front of tanks.
Saw this today from the minimergent;
The first step – especially for young people with energy and drive and talent, but not money – the first step to controlling your world is to control your culture. To model and demonstrate the kind of world you demand to live in. To write the books. Make the music. Shoot the films. Paint the art.
Chuck Palahniuk
TFT- new address…
I have now used up my ‘free’ storage space on WordPress- which means I have had to upgrade my package and start to PAY to continue to write on this site! I weighed up starting again on a new platform, but for now have decided to pay the £60 a year to go for an upgrade.
Part of this involves being able to purchase ‘thisfragiletent’ as a permanent URL. The address of this site will now just be http://www.thisfragiletent.com. (The old address will work too though.)
All of which forced me to review again why I am doing this- why I persist with this strange (mostly) daily addiction. I was reminded of this old post, which made reference to this list from TSK-
1. Praise (public acknowledgement) – “publish glad tidings daily”
2. Accountability. (Eph. 5: 21 “Submit yourselves to one another”, quote fromAthanasias)
3. Vulnerability (Daniel’s window)
4, Given-ness (Freely you have received, gift economy, Prov 11:24)
5. Creative Naming (Adam, Neighbors in Ruth)
6. Repentance (editing/deleting/changing our mind in new media)
7. Fellowship (hypertext linking, Koinonia)
8. Evangelism (storytelling, blogging from our lives)
9. Integrity (writing matches our speaking, design reflects reality)
10. Posterity. (store/guard what has been entrusted, writing history)
There was also another one: Watchfulness (“watch and pray”).
To which I added;
11. Creativity- most writers would say that words shape us as we shape them.
12. Discipline and long term commitment- blogging output varies, but it demands mostly daily commitment over a long time to develop a voice.
I think this lest still works, more or less, so blog on I will…
Was anyone at Greenbelt festival circa 1985?
I don’t think I was (my sister Katherine will remember) but I was there 83 and 84.
I was transported back to my 18 year old tortured self through these clips however;
The festival is very different now – although so am I – both of us have lost our innocence I think. Everything is more nuanced, more self consciously de constructed perhaps? Perhaps you disagree…
As I watch these clips (and there are a few more on you tube) I am reminded all too painfully of the boy I was- with all this confused idealism and awkwardness, in the middle of which was a simple, beautiful place called Jesus. Sometimes he was the only thing that made any sense.
This much has not changed.
Jubilee approaches…
I am in a strange place at the moment- all about transition. The ending of one thing and the step into an uncertain other. It is on the whole a good place, but not without it’s physical and psychological challenge. I have less than two weeks left in my current job (perhaps even my current career) and then I plunge into a time of relative free fall.
There is a plan of sorts- I will have some redundancy money that will keep us going for a little while and allow me to invest in alterations to the house. We hope to have two double rooms available for holiday letting/bed and breakfast by the end of the summer, which (along with our self catering accommodation) will allow us to make some kind of a living through hospitality. Our real hope is that we can start to offer a combination of activities around the old house- retreat weekends, pottery courses, outdoor activities etc. (We have a FB page and a website if you are interested to see where things are up to at present.)
I also hope that I get some time to spend writing. It is perhaps what I love to do most- a private secret thing that may well have no external application, but if I do not give some serious effort towards, will be a source of regret.
Then there is social work- I am not entirely sure I am done with it. I hope that in the process of stepping off the tread mill I might rediscover some of the passion and idealism that made me a social worker in the first place. I will probably need to do some part time work too.
On Sunday, during our Aoradh family worship day, Andy spoke about slavery. He described the context of slavery in the time of Jesus- people born into slavery, captured there in war, or selling themselves into slavery in order to cope with life or debt. Andy made the comparison with our relationship to money in our age- which (given what I have said above) clearly resonated with me.
We are all caught up in things that hold us, for good or ill. Some of this we fell into out of the womb, some caught us through circumstance, yet others we willingly tie ourselves to. Often it seems that these things become bigger than us- they offer us no choices, no release; we become slaves.
There is this other word however, which we have heard rather a lot of over this year in the UK- Jubilee.
I am not talking about elaborate celebrations of the anniversaries of monarchs, but as Wikipedia puts it;
The Jubilee (Hebrew yovel יובל) year is the year at the end of seven cycles of shmita (Sabbatical years), and according to Biblical regulations had a special impact on the ownership and management of land in the Land of Israel; there is some debate whether it was the 49th year (the last year of seven sabbatical cycles, referred to as the Sabbath’s Sabbath), or whether it was the following (50th) year.
“This fiftieth year is sacred—it is a time of freedom and of celebration when everyone will receive back their original property, and slaves will return home to their families. “
My Jubilee is not a release from bondage into some kind of utopian ideal- and I am sure it never was for the Hebrews. It just signifies for me the simple fact that making risky shifts in the fabric of our lives is a rare privilege.
.
The patterns of Paisley Abbey…
Yesterday we were in Paisley and called into the lovely old Abbey.
It dates back to 1163, when it was established as a Cluniac Monastery- followers of a Benedictine order in France, who established a strict regime of austere living. Despite this however, there was also a tradition of giving the very best to God, particularly around worship, so alongside the extreme frugality of individual monks there was great opulence and wealth within the actual priories, hence this lovely building, which would have been decorated in the most colourful way with gold silver and the finest fabrics.
This contrast between simplicity/self denial and great wealth and power is one that always hits me when I attend the wonderful architectural survivors of the the former religious age. Such resources went into their construction- and continue to be tied up in their upkeep, and this seems at odds with the way of Jesus.
However- who can be in such places and remain unmoved?
Here are a few photos of some of the colour inside the place, taken with M’s little camera…
Where we are from…
My father is visiting at the moment.
We did not know each other until a few years ago- a long story of a broken family and much distance created, and it was not until my 40th birthday that we met again. Since then we get together fairly regularly.
The obvious question this brings is; what of me comes from him?
In some ways we are quite alike. He is quietly spoken, rather shy and tall. In other ways, it seems we are creatures from a different world. He has a thick Irish accent, and hardly went to school (I suspect Dyslexia, which lots of other people in my family seem to have too.)
Today however, we mended a lawn mower, and it occurred to me that we both have some natural affinity with tools. We can make things and mend them. Emily took this photograph through the living room window;
The other thing I discovered was a connection to cricket!
My dad grew up in a tiny place near Strabane in Northern Ireland called Sion Mills. He was the youngest surviving child of six brothers and sisters, and both parents worked at the local Flax mill, and died young as a result of problems with dyspnoea associated with the fibres.
The mill also had a cricket team, reputed to have beaten a touring Australian team. They may have had some help from the Bushmills. The team was once the most powerful club side in Ireland, and also holds the record for the biggest hit in cricket history. The ball landed in the goods wagon of a passing train and was recovered in Derry, 17 miles away.
I came across this clip from another game played at Sion Mills between Ireland and Clive Lloyd‘s West Indies. You can see the old Mill in the background.
I assume that the West Indies players had been liberally entertained.
this fragile tent 