Sins of the Father (musings from a holy wood)

How much of this was meant to be-How much the work of the devil?

2010-09-05T14:11:00.000-07:00

Still enjoying Dakota by Kathleen Norris. She peppers her everyday experiences with the historical context of the plains states and the memories that go back to the dust bowl of the thirties. I cant begin to comprehend what it must have been like for the small farmers to watch the earth blow away before their eyes. To watch their living and their ability to feed their families disappear in an afternoon. Reminded me of Resplendent by the amazing Vigilantes of Love. The Blog title comes from a line in the song and I'm not sure of the answer.

If you do let me know your thoughts but do check out the Vigilantes of Love - they are one of America's best kept secrets. There is a line in a song by The Frames which says "the stars are underground" and that describes Vigilantes so well. Recognised by other song writers, hence Emmy Lou Harris doing the backing vocals here. But they have never had the public recognition they deserve. The stars truly are underground but they are still resplendent.

Tis not easy

2010-09-02T14:36:00.000-07:00

I heard Jonathan Wilson Hartgrove (click on title above to visit his website) speak at Greenbelt. He is part of the new monasticism movement and he was giving some context to his work in the states. One of the key points to his story was his learning that christianity was hard. It wasn't a simple Billy Graham moment of conversion and then life is fine. What the gospels call you to do is antithetical to a lot of middle class and church values. Christianity if you take it seriously is very hard.

I thought of this today when I was walking back from work and passed 2 Big Issue sellers, and was accosted by an obviously drunk man asking me for either a cigarette or strangely, thirty pence.

I confess that I struggle to know what to do in these situations. Part of me believes in feeding the poor and sheltering the homeless, and part of me thinks - I pay taxes and there is a welfare state - you don't have to be homeless. Its not hard to work out which is the gospel response and which is the middle class protestant response.

And its not as simple as that but I think that was the point that Jonathan was making when he talked about Christianity being hard. This is an issue I will be wrestling with every day walking through the city centre. If I find any answers I'll let you know. In the meantime here's a little blessing from the Franciscans who have a lot more experience in this area than me.

Franciscan Benediction.

“May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor…”

Go Sit in your Cell,

2010-08-31T13:47:00.000-07:00

and your cell will teach you everything.
Abba Moses. The Sayings of the Desert Fathers.

Hallo again.

I know its been a while and I've no excuse. I've been a little bit too happy and a little too lazy.

Anyway I'm still happy but in my post-greenbelt glow its time to write once more.

Not sure about what or if anyone is even still reading blogs. Perhaps best to start with a child's description of the sky over Dakota.

The Sky is full of blue
And full of the mind of God.

Its from the book of the same name by Kathleen Norris. I've been inspired as I sit in my small plain rented weekday room in Manchester where I'm working at present. She describes how she had to travel across the state to teach poetry in various tiny rural schools. Often she stayed in terrible motels whose grim surroundings initially overwhelmed her.But she decided to embrace the surroundings by learning from the desert fathers. She began to view her tacky cheap motel room as a monks cell full of the gifts of silence and solitude. A place to read and write - to be in the desert and watch it bloom. As she describes it....
"I had stumbled on a basic truth of asceticism: that it is not necessarily a denigration of the body, though it has often been misapplied for that purpose. Rather it is a way of surrendering to reduced circumstances in a manner that enhances the whole person. It is a radical way of knowing exactly who, what and where you are, in defiance of those powerful forces in society -alcohol, drugs, television, shopping malls, motels - that aim to make us forget."
Kathleen Norris. Dakota: A Spiritual Geography.

I love that she see's shopping malls and television as being as dangerous for our soul as drugs and alcohol. And I think she might be on to something.

I plan to explore that idea for the next year- during the week I'm in exile from my love and from my home. But I want to embrace this cell and see if I can learn from the experience. Lets see what happens.

The grammar of Beauty

2009-06-02T15:42:00.000-07:00

Read this poem tonight at team Fury and it really grabbed me - especially the line "In the meantime, she is the one today among us
most able to bear the idea of her own beauty."

beautiful stuff

Grammar

Maxine, back from a weekend with her boyfriend,
smiles like a big cat and says
that she's a conjugated verb.
She's been doing the direct object
with a second person pronoun named Phil,
and when she walks into the room,
everybody turns:

some kind of light is coming from her head.
Even the geraniums look curious,
and the bees, if they were here, would buzz
suspiciously around her hair, looking
for the door in her corona.
We're all attracted to the perfume
of fermenting joy,

we've all tried to start a fire,
and one day maybe it will blaze up on its own.
In the meantime, she is the one today among us
most able to bear the idea of her own beauty,
and when we see it, what we do is natural:
we take our burned hands
out of our pockets,
and clap.

Tony Hoagland

To Spring (and Love) - and all that will follow.

2009-04-05T13:57:00.000-07:00

O Thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

The hills tell each other, and the list'ning
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turnèd
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.

Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.

William Blake

Its that time of year - the bike has been rescued from its winter hibernation in the garage, had its yearly service and I am once again riding through the forests of Sanctus B. And its glorious - you can smell spring in the air, the new life is bursting through the earth and everything feels new and possible and glorious. I love this time of year in Ireland when the moving from one season to the next is so clearly defined. Which brings me to my own moving from one season of life to the next. It happened like this......

On a sunday afternoon we took a drive through the rolling drumlins of County Down. The clouds scattered and the sunlight flooded the car. We stopped at a country church, built on the site of the first church established on this isle by St Patrick. Inside its simple stone walls there is an altar with a silver cross and a lone stained glass window. The Sun bled through the many colours of the saint and filled the church. We stopped to enjoy the silence and then prayed on the sacred ground. Prayed for wisdom and blessing and all that would follow in the fullness of life both in sorrow and in laughter.

A short drive up the shore to another Holy island on the lough which had been the site of an early Irish Celtic monastery. The remnants of the church, the walls and the High tower are still there and the view over the water is breathtaking. In the shelter of the tower we read some Mary Oliver .....
'You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine'

because real life is as much about sadness as it is about joy and its good to make peace with that from the start. And then we sat overlooking the Lough , exactly where we had broken bread almost a year before, on one of our first dates. And in the twinkling of an eye I knelt and asked my Anam Cara to take a risk and share our lives and our journey from here to the place where all journeys end.

With that one small word of an answer both of our lives changed forever in ways we can't yet imagine. We journeyed back to Belfast where the community toasted us with champagne and Father Padraig blessed the day in poetry and song - using the ancient tongue of our island to call down God's blessing on our new life.

And so spring is full of joy and I walk towards the future more in hope than fear.

The Blessing of St Patrick surround you.

M

Lenten Questions

2009-03-04T14:02:00.000-08:00

Tis the time of the year when some give up things, others take up things and some do nothing at all. I've always had an ambivalent relationship with Lent - sometimes giving up things but not necessarily thinking deeply or entering into any new discipline beyond not eating chocolate or whatever. This year I’m trying both. I have said goodbye to all things sweet, all things alcoholic and have banned myself from Facebook. But that’s all well and good – I may lose a few pounds and have some more time but will I learn anything?

So my plan is to use the time for more reading, thinking and the occasional bit of writing on the blog. But Lent itself – almost a tithe of the year that we give to something holy. Jesus went into the desert for 40 days to ask the question of what it meant to be Jesus. Perhaps we could spend the time during Lent asking ourselves some questions. In Beyond Words Frederick Buechner gives us some ideas.

“If you had to bet everything you have on whether there is a God or whether there isn’t, which side would get your money and why?
When you look at your face in the mirror, what do you see in it that you most like and what do you see in it that you most deplore?
If you had only one last message to leave to the handful of people who are most important to you, what would that be in 25 words or less?
Of all the things that you have done in your life, which is the one you would most like to undo? Which is the one that makes you happiest to remember?
Is there any person in the world or any cause that, if circumstances called for it, you would be willing to die for?
If this were the last day of your life, what would you do with it?

To hear yourself try to answer questions like that is to begin to hear something not only of who you are, but of both what you are becoming and what you are failing to become. It can be a pretty depressing business all in all, but if sackcloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end. “

I’m wrestling with these questions over the next 6 weeks. I can’t promise to post the answers to all of them but I will post some. Maybe you can join me on the journey.

One to Ponder

2008-12-21T18:50:00.000-08:00

3 Dollars Worth of God

I would like to buy 3 dollars worth of God, please
Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don't want enough of him to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant.
I want ecstasy, not transformation.
I want the warmth of the womb not a new birth.
I want about a pound of the eternal in a paper sack.
I'd like to buy 3 dollars worth of God, please
How much God do you want?
You get as much or as little as you desire.

Wilbur Reese

Winter Warmer

2008-12-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

We had a winter warmer tonight. Ingredients
One group of lovely people
Some Mulled Wine
A crackling Wood Fire
An embarassment of Cookies
Some Cheese
and some poetry and music.

Leave in Room and see what happens.

It was glorious. And for your delectation a little poem.

Into The Darkest Hour
by Madeleine L’Engle

It was a time like this,
War & tumult of war,
a horror in the air.
Hungry yawned the abyss-
and yet there came the star
and the child most wonderfully there.

It was time like this
of fear & lust for power,
license & greed and blight-
and yet the Prince of bliss
came into the darkest hour
in quiet & silent light.

And in a time like this
how celebrate his birth
when all things fall apart?
Ah! Wonderful it is
with no room on the earth
the stable is our heart.

Paying Attention

2008-11-10T09:24:00.000-08:00

Firstly apologies to those who have been checking in over the last few months as I have been somewhat distracted. Love does that too you - makes some things much less significant. There is also the Facebook factor. Nearly all my friends have stopped or become much less frequent bloggers. Could it be that we are all spending so much time updating our status and stalking each other on facebook that we have no creative energy left for blogging. Perhaps Facebook is the new TV - its not evil in itself but it can suck our time and creativity from us. And I say Down with that sort of thing !

But on to happier things.

Autumn - that season of mists and mellow fruitfulness/ close bosom friend of the departing sun - has been late and lingering here in Sanctus Boscus. This morning the sun was shining, the air was cold and bracing and I was on my bike. It was glorious as I puffed my way to the top of the mountain, cycling on a golden carpet of fallen leaves and paying attention to the swaying trees. At the top I sat in the breeze and watched the ships on the blue Lough below, thinking, and paying attention to the sacred everyday. It refreshed my soul.

I've been reading a lot of Mary Oliver recently. If you haven't read her please run to the nearest store now and pick up Snow Geese and Thirst. If you like poetry and have a pulse, you wont be disappointed. The greatest thing I've learnt from Mary -and its not a new lesson, though one I have to be reminded of - is to pay attention to whats around me, particularly the natural world. This morning there was bird song, wind in the trees and the rhythmic sound of my tyres on the leaf strewn path , praying a simple prayer of thanks for nothing more than being alive and able to enjoy this ....

I'll leave you with a poem from Thirst and promise to be more regular here and less on Facebook in the coming weeks.

Blessings

M

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris,it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones;just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver
Thirst.

Wherever you are, whatever you do, be in love

2008-06-24T15:12:00.000-07:00

The words of the Sufi mystic poet Rumi. I find myself
travelling on the Seattle to Victoria clipper. Snowcapped mountains rise straight out of the Puget Sound. And I’m listening to my new love – Krista Tippet and the wonderful speaking of faith program on American Public Radio. Since Padraig introduced me to the wonder of Krista I’ve listened to the programmes with John O’Donohue, Elie Wiesel and Karen Armstrong. Today I’m listening to the Ecstatic Faith of Rumi with Fatima Keshavarz of Washington University.

Rumi was a 12th century Sufi mystic and poet who wrote in Persian and his influence is huge. He inspired the whirling dervishes by spinning around a column as he recited his poems. He also wrote some amazing sensual poetry. Fatima Keshavarz describes him as someone who saw human love as a mirror of the divine. His poetry is simultaneously in praise of God and also a more earthly love. He said everything is quickened or whirling in the face of love and there is no boundary between the two.

“How did Jesus raise the Dead. Kiss me on the lips. That is how.”

Longing itself is redemptive. Valuing perplexity – not knowing is a way of learning and propelling us forward. Rumi says we can never be done.

“Stay bewildered in God and only that.”

And perhaps finally something for our own fundamentalist age.

“Out beyond ideas of right doing and wrongdoing is a field. I will meet you there.”

The full programme is fantastic. Click on the title above to go straight to the Speaking of Faith website. I really believe it is the best thing on public radio. So check it out. It could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

M

In the twinkling of an eye

2008-06-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

So I've been away for a while. Thanks to those who have kept dropping in to the blog. I cant promise any more regular blogs over the next while but there is a reason. So let me tell you a story. Its like this........

In the blink of an eye life changes. Sometimes it starts with something as simple as a conversation. In an old house, in a glacial valley we leaned in, elbows on the table, and talked quietly over the soup and wheaten bread. She smiled and looked at me with clear blue eyes. Somehow that was enough. A risk was taken, and an adventure began, the end of which is not yet written. It felt like coming home, a harbour for my weary soul, that first sight of land after a long ocean voyage.
A few nights ago we drove to a beach in Donegal for a picnic but the rain fell, glittering on the windscreen like jewels in the evening light. We couldn’t sit on the beach, but instead broke bread in a car made magical by her presence. Add in fresh cheese, olives, peppers stuffed with feta, strawberries and cream and some chocolate. And yet with a glass of wine in hand it’s the conversation that seems rich. Time slows down and just before the sun sinks away the rain stops. We walk on the cliffs for a few minutes, hand in hand silhouetted against the red clouds. I don’t know what the next chapter will be but right now this is enough. Right now I am content and secure in the present – almost to content to write. I have been surprised by joy and there is so much to say and share with each other that the blog world is fading in significance. I will be back at some point.
In the blink of an eye life changes and for that I’m truly thankful.

One Man and his guitar

2008-05-13T02:43:00.000-07:00

I recently discovered the music of Newton Faulkner. Check him out on Youtube. He does a stunning version of Teardrop by Masive Attack , An Amazing Sponge Bob Square pants but right now I'm loving how with only his guitar in hand he can do justice to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen !

Messy Life Poetry

2008-05-11T04:15:00.000-07:00

A poem for friends on both sides of the vast Atlantic who are hurting, in the midst of this mad , wonderful, painful messy thing we call life.

Redemption

Love and gratitude trump grief.

Life is not always easy

It hums along, sweet and low-key

And then the tsunami – real or imagined,

Wipes our smug snugness away

Devastated by loss, we weep,

We gnash teeth, we grieve, we're angry

At God, at life, at lack of control.

We regain calm, then lose it, lose it, lose it.

Slowly, slowly, normalcy returns,

Creeping back in like the daily tide.

The dawning of another day,

Bereft of the old,but blessed with the new,

First shows itself in the smiling eyes

Of dear friends, still here, still offering love.

Life, after all, is worthwhile

And love and gratitude trump grief

-Tina Tessina

Of life , cycling and Coupland.

2008-04-10T12:47:00.000-07:00

Every day we wake up and we have a choice of how to face the day. We can choose to be disappointed in life, in friends and in situations. Or we can choose to live and face the day more in hope than in fear. It is something I need to keep reminding myself day by day as the temptation to part of the system raise its head and dangles that nice middle class job with good benefits in front of me. At Ikon on Sunday night the service was entitled “We have decided not to die” and that is what I want to shout aloud and feel in every fibre of my being. And it means to celebrate and embrace life – every precious wonderful painful moment of it.
Today I would like to celebrate 2 things. The glory of cycling and the wonder that is the BBC/Met office weather site. On it you can look at their prediction hour by hour for where and when rain will fall. In a one off scientific test I planned my cycle around a 2-hour gap between heavy showers. And it worked – Before I left the house it had rained and even hailed. Likewise after I got back but oh the glory of those 2 hours in between, giving me time to cycle through the forest to the top of the mountain and hey it might just be the endorphins talking but it makes you feel alive. Cycling through the forest, sunlight dappled by the newly green leaves, streams babbling after the rain and then on the top of the mountain the gorse bushes in an explosion of yellow flowers. Sitting on a bench and looking at the Ferry steaming up the Lough – sea changes colour as the clouds race across and planes come in to land. But yet nature feels close and uplifting. A few times this last month or two I’ve stopped dreaming because life is messy and it bruises your soul but each time something draws me back. We finished the Ikon Service with my favourite passage from my favourite Douglas Coupland novel. It is the last few words from Girlfriend in a Coma and it helped me to stand up and say, “ We have decided not to die”.

"You'll soon be seeing us walking down your street, our backs held proud, our eyes dilated with truth and power. We might look like you, but you should know better. We'll draw our line in the sand and force the world to cross our line. Every cell in our body will explode with truth. We will be kneeling in front of the Safeway, atop out of date textbooks whose pages we have chewed out. We'll be begging passers-by to see the need to question and question and never to stop questioning until the world stops spinning. We'll be adults who smash the tired, exhausted system. We'll crawl and chew and dig our way into a radical new world. We will change minds and souls from stone and plastic into linen and gold – that's what I believe. That's what I know."

Mr William Stafford. Poet.

2008-03-30T19:36:00.000-07:00

I found this poem while randomly blog surfing and it struck a chord as I travel home from my sojourn in Nashville, TN. Communication is something that none of us are expert at (even a post grad in it doesnt always help) and all of us send out signals whether we acknowledge it or no .... So for your poetic pleasure can I present Mr William Stafford. Heres to being awake;

A Ritual To Read To Each Other

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider--
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give--yes or no, or maybe--
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

Hallelujah

2008-03-25T14:33:00.000-07:00

Thanks Nashville. You've been great. See you next time. A little song because parting is such sweet sorrow. m

Maundy Thursday with Martin Luther King

2008-03-21T21:53:00.001-07:00

In a church in the middle of Nashville( a town not renowned for its civil rights) , twenty of us gathered to watch a film on the life of Martin Luther King. It was mostly documentary footage of the struggle for civil rights, interspersed with speeches from Dr King. The sheer brutality of the police and the reactions of the crowds to the non violence of the marchers were shocking to watch and realise that this happened not long ago.
In one of his early speeches he quoted a John Donne poem which speaks of our connectedness to each other as humans. And suddenly it seemed appropriate for Easter Weekend when we celebrate the ultimate humanity of God becoming man and dying a very human death.
We are all connected this weekend wherever we are and however we are. Life is messy but for those feeling alone or lonely this weekend where death becomes hope and darkness light – here is John Donne.

No Man is an Island

No man is an island, entire of itself
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were.
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for thee.

Dark Woods

2008-03-16T13:11:00.000-07:00

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi retrovai per una selva oscura,
che la diritta via era smarrita.

Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost.

You can always tell its been a good day when I find myself reading Dante. But sometimes that’s where it’s at. I have spent most of the last year travelling. Consuming culture in Paris, eating at the sacred table of the Riddells in New Zealand (think Aslans table with better wine) , living in a beach hut in Vietnam, taking a boat trip up the Mekong Delta, faced the best and the worst of the human condition in Cambodia, trekked through the hills of Northern Thailand, elephant riding , white water rafting, come home to the embrace of a loving community and now for almost the last 2 months I have been in my second home in Nashville TN, writing, wrestling with God in the mountains, dealing with the realities and the messiness of life and relationships, good, bad , painful and wonderful at the same time.

And right now I find myself in a dark wood where the straight way is lost. Face to face with a painful truth that problems don’t change by travelling – you still carry them with you. Answers aren’t always easier to find sitting on a beach or in a log cabin in the mountains. I’ve learned much, experienced the divine in new ways, am happier with who I am as a person and yet still haven’t found the answer. I seem to be involved in a search for a new way of living, a new way of being – a structure to direct and illuminate the next part of my life and in truth I am a little afraid. I head home very soon and am still not sure what I will do next.

I don’t want to leave this totally bleak because although Dante spent most of his time in hell looking down, he did eventually emerge and walk under the sky again and when he looked up he saw the stars.

Wild Horses

2008-03-08T17:45:00.000-08:00

So I’m back in the lowlands with many things to tell of my time in the mountain cabin but a few will suffice tonight. I wrestled with my demons, first hating the solitude then coming to love it. There was much thinking, praying and writing. And a good flick through some tunes on the Ipod from a long time ago. Listening to Achtung Baby and even now all these years later sometimes songs seem somehow relevant to life.… ‘Who’s gonna ride your Wild Horses’ jumped out at me and knocked me over…. Heres a few lyrics – take from them what you will. That’s your right and the beauty of all art in the eye of the interpreter, and who’s to say if you are right or wrong.

You're dangerous 'cause you're honest
You're dangerous, you don't know what you want
Well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot
For any spirit to haunt

You're an accident waiting to happen
You're a piece of glass left on a beach
Well you tell me things I know you're not supposed to
Then you leave me just out of reach

Hey hey sha la la
Hey hey sha la la

Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna drown in your blue sea
Who's gonna ride your wild horses
Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee

In other news, I have come back down from the mountains to the first stirrings of spring. It had snowed on the mountains and I sat out on the porch, coffee in hand, wrapped in a quilt and watched the red Cardinals playing in the snow. Now back down in the valley the whole earth is quivering with the promise of new life and growth. The sun is shining and the first flowers are pushing tentatively through the darkness of the soil and into the light. May we all do the same.

Dr its a strange Love

2008-02-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

or I how learnt to stop worrying and love .......

writing.

Writing-she’s got me; I have the sickness and am not sure what to do with it. Part of me wants this life of spending time in coffee shops and log cabins and small rooms with desks. Having time for people and place and knowing what it is to live that life more abundant. It means rejecting the dominant paradigm of middle class existence, a secure income and all those oh so lovely benefits that come with full time employment. And part of me is scared. Scared because she is a harsh mistress – demanding time and attention and loving. She demands it every day, and that’s the test – she demands it on the days when you don’t love her, when you cant feel any inspiration, when the dryness inside sits there and mocks you, and your inner voice laughs at your pretensions of sharing your thoughts and dreams with the world. Even on those days you have to tend to her. It’s a calling, a curse as much as a blessing and not to be entered into lightly. If you take her on, your life will change and she will hound you with her demands. She will expect gold and diamonds and precious things from you. And that’s ok, because some days the Oran Mor – the rhythm of life is there – you can taste the wind, sense the rain, breathe with the trees and for a few seconds you grasp that divine beauty and you try to put it into words. A few pitiful words that don’t do justice to the vision that you had. You write through a glass darkly but there is still a hint, a scent of Eden and what was lost all those years ago.
She also demands something even more precious, and that’s time. She wants some of your day every day, she expects the best years of your life. And here’s the hardest part, she promises nothing in return. Not success, not even fulfilment, hell not even publishing of your pitiful efforts. Aye Hamlet there’s the rub.
Why do it? Why quit your job and lock yourself away from society to follow this insubstantial dream, this ethereal hope, which may turn out to be no more lasting than a fart in the wind. Simply put you don’t have a choice. It’s like falling in love. You can’t help it; you can not turn of the attraction, even when it’s the wrong choice. And he hasn’t lived who hasn’t made the wrong choice in love and suffered for it. Hell I’m still doing that and its like my old professor used to say – “the only thing we learn from history, is that we don’t learn from history.”
There is only one thing to be done and that’s to untie yourself from the mast, dive into the raging torrent and swim towards that siren. I’m not saying you wont drown, in fact that’s the most likely outcome, and even if you reach the island who’s to say you wont get smashed to pieces on the rocks. Ultimately the only way to stop that seductive chorus is to swim towards it.
This will be my last blog posting for a couple of weeks as I’m going into a wilderness so wild it is without internet. I’m heading off to a remote cabin in the woods to wrestle with the bitch and see if we can’t produce something beautiful together. Some days I will win and some days she will kick my ass. I may drown yet so if you haven’t heard from me by the start of March, please, please send out a search party.

Hope

2008-02-15T08:58:00.000-08:00

"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies."

There are not yet enough things that make me cry. Its part of my Stoic Ulster Presbyterian upbringing, one which was ever distrustful of displays of emotion. But as I get older more things sneak in under the wire and let those emotions out. And it’s a mix of things from the usual births and deaths to gratitude while sitting round a table with good friends breaking bread, sunrise over a Vietnamese beach, an episode of the West Wing, a story by Frederick Buechner, a poem by Hopkins, a smile from the right person at the right time. And I cry as often over beauty as I do sadness and there’s one scene in one movie which is a sure bet, gilt edged guarantee to break through my cynical journalist mask and without even realising it my face is wet with tears.
It happened again last night at the Lenten film series at Downtown Presbyterian Church. The feature was “The Shawshank Redemption” and in a story packed with gems the scene that gets me every time is when Andy Dufresne the almost Christ like central character finds a record of Mozarts Marriage of Figaro. He locks himself in the Wardens Office and plays the track “Che Soave Zeffiretto” over the Prison loudspeakers and suddenly everyone in that grim dark place stops and listens. But enough from me, it is best described by Andys best friend Red played by Morgan Freeman. Click on the title above to watch the scene on You Tube – I haven’t quite worked out how to embed yet or just enjoy the words.

"I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are better left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and it makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was as if some beautiful bird had flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free." - Red

The Lonely Art of Writing (and faith)

2008-02-14T12:48:00.001-08:00

A man sits in the grand reading room of a public library. Its a public library in a major American city so slightly richer and more grand than the British variety. It seems like it should be perfect for writing. There are high ceilings, impressive corinthian columns and suitable quotes. The walls are unsurprisingly lined with books and the long polished wood tables are empty but for the individual silver lamps. The man stares at his computer looking for inspiration but none comes.
All he can think of is the Church sign that he passed earlier while cycling in East Nashville, which simply said " DONT MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE. GOD. " Not sure which version of the Bible they found that quote in but it makes him wonder what sort of God they believe in and if by any chance its the same one that he believes in. He has been reading Frederick Buechner recently drawn to him by his honest treatment of doubt as an integral part of faith. CS Lewis said that 'doubt is the shadow cast by faith' and the man resonates with that. In fact he wonders if God even doubts himself sometimes ? Like most of his thoughts though, they are not original and it turns out, that GK Chesterton got there a long time ago. In Orthodoxy he says the New Testament portrays a God who, by being wholly present in the dying cry of Jesus of Nazareth, even doubted and questioned himself. Thats the kind of God the man finds himself believing in and praying too while sitting in a public library staring at his unfinished novel on a computer screen.

Perception, Imagination and Reality

2008-02-11T08:35:00.000-08:00

“Illusion is the first of all pleasures.” Oscar Wilde.

In Nashville and pondering the differences between what we imagine, what we perceive and what is real. This works on a number of levels and not always in a good way. I think all of us can fall victim to the tyranny of imagination and expectation. When we build up an idea of what someone or something is or could be to us then look out reality. Reality can never match the power and majesty of the imagination and the perfection we have dreamed off. Real life is harder and messier and takes more courage to face with our eyes and hearts open.
This also works in our perception of ideas and theology. I’ve had that challenged this last 10 days by visiting church. A church that at least in theory, by splitting from its denomination is on one particular side of a current hot potato issue in the church. One of those big issues that we all like to fixate on while ignoring the overwhelming message of scripture which doesn’t say much about it at all.
But lets not get into that now. Instinctively I find myself on the other side of the argument from this church, but friends I’m staying with were going there and enjoying it and so I’ve gone along and had my preconceived notions challenged. I’ve enjoyed the services and met some interesting people, people who are exploring ideas in an honest and sincere way. And not just the kind of ideas I would expect. I was expecting conservative but have seen a wide range of opinion and some good answers to my questions – Hey I even met one person who is reading Pete Rollins book – How Not To Speak of God – and enjoying it and digging the Eckhart inspired constant deconstruction theology. And that’s good enough for me.
So I’ve been pleasantly surprised and challenged about my own perceptions. My friend JDD is currently working on a book about the sacredness of questioning everything and he describes it thus – good questions make new worlds possible, let in the air …….and create conspiracies of hopefulness. There’s way more good stuff in there but its not published yet so no more quotes - buy it when it comes out.
And my conclusion is to please answer that summons to sacred questioning , keep talking and have the courage to get beyond perception. My life is richer this past week from asking questions, the answers to which revealed that my expectations and preconceptions were quite simply WRONG.

Contemplating Tornado's on Ash Wednesday.

2008-02-06T18:26:00.000-08:00

Yep this is gonna be a happy one you can tell. Last night we had a gentleman’s whiskey night at Trevor’s. As we sat eating cheese and drinking some fine single malt, the tornado warning sirens went off and the storm moved in. Married men called their wives, the TV was turned on and we followed the progress of the storm. Turned out we were safe even though one bolt of lightning hit the alleyway directly across the street, scaring the crap out of Trev who was standing on the porch at the time. For us it was quite an awesome, exhilarating experience but elsewhere in the country people were dying, 50 at the last count.

Today is Ash Wednesday in the church calendar and for me its always one of the most poignant service’s of the year as we are forced by its very nature to contemplate our own mortality. Julie Lee and I went to the noon service at Redeemer and Father Mackenzie talked about the people who had died in the Tornado and reminded us all that we were going to die. And its sobering going forward to kneel at the altar and for him to anoint you with ash and say “from dust you came, to dust you will return.”

Perhaps the only thing that made it bearable was that the act of penitinence is quickly followed by Eucharist. The Anglican liturgy is always close to my heart but on this particular day it seemed more life affirming than ever, drinking the wine ….”the blood of Christ keep you in eternal life.” Amen Let it be so.

As we walked out shriven and redeemed, Julie said – “Thanks, I needed that service today.”

And all I can say to that is, me to!

In the name of the Creator, the Redeemer and the Companion,

Amen.

Reading Graham Greene in New York

2008-01-29T16:00:00.001-08:00

This is Ino in Greenwich Village where we had lunch today. That was after breakfast at the local diner. Tonight we are heading out for some Tapas. Yes it is a culinary delight and every time I enter the room I hear the bass riff from Seinfeld playing .

It is a wonder and for me a good thing. I haven't been in New York since September 11th and the week of madness that followed that day. For a long time I didn't want to come back but It has somehow been redeemed. Am reading "The heart of the matter" by Graham Greene and loving it. There was a great quote in todays chapter which although I'm feeling good at the minute and as far from despair as I've been in months ......... I still thought I would share with you because there is something profound about despair and how he describes it through the character of Scobie the hero/anti-hero of the book as he realises he cant give his wife what she wants and needs.

"Despair is the price one pays for setting one an impossible aim. It is, one is told, the unforgiveable sin, but it is a sin the corrupt or evil man never practices. He always has hope. He never reaches the freezing point of knowing absolute failure. Only the man of goodwill carries always in his heart this capacity for damnation."

Whiskey Liturgy for John O'Donohue

2008-01-14T02:52:00.000-08:00

Last night we had a beautiful Ikon service remembering and celebrating the life of John O'Donohue. It struck the right note with poetry, song and personal reflection. We also had a liturgy based around his favourite drink. If you enjoy it please raise a glass in memory of a man who lived life well and fully.

A whiskey Liturgy remembering the dead

An East Belfast Aristocrat recently said “ I don’t get those pop and idol shows / the good things they take a little longer.” And he’s right. Good food , good wine , yeah even life itself takes time . Many writers are fans of whiskey, a golden nectar that represents the process of creating something beautiful over time. John liked his whiskey – or firewater as he liked to call it. Whiskey is a common drink at an Irish wake and it is a living symbol of the process of life we all go through to become what it is we are meant to be.
(lift bottle of Bushmills…..)

Take some pure irish spring water, malted barley and yeast.

Grind the malted barley grains into a coarse flour. Mix it with hot water to form a mash. Then add a little yeast to trigger fermentation. Take the whole mix and triple distill it in vast copper pots. Finally it’s ready to be matured. At Bushmills they use American Oak barrels and Spanish sherry, madiera wine and port casks. The whiskey will gradually become what its meant to be ….. sitting in these barrels for 5, 10 , 15 or 20 years. And yet we are still not there …. Finally a team of blenders will combine the whiskeys from different barrels together to get the taste just right, and the journey finishes in the bottle held in front of me. Or almost finished because the whiskey still has one task left.It is to be drunk, perhaps in a celebration , or in mourning , or simply in appreciation. Maybe it will fuel conversation, or thoughts that will change the world. Finally it will be consumed.

Even the name is a thing of beauty. When the English soldiers came to Ireland they would ask what this fiery drink was ? and the locals would reply “Uisce Beatha” ….. in Gaelic it means the water of life, gradually anglicised to whiskey …… but I like water of life best !

John used to call it firewater and it is but it’s also the water of life. Its strong, It is sweet and bitter. It burns on the way down but after you have tasted it, you know that you are alive.

Tonight is not just about John, its about celebrating life , affirming life and remembering those that have made that journey ahead of us. I’m going to invite everyone to come up and have a shot of whiskey or a non alcoholic alternative …take it, drink it, walk to the table and turn over your glass and say a prayer or simply just remember someone who has passed on …. Celebrate their life and be inspired to live your own. The chapter on death in Anam Cara ends with a 13th century Persian prayer/poem which is a call to life …….” Some nights stay up till the dawn as the moon sometimes does for the sun. / Be a full bucket, pulled up the dark way of a well then lifted out into light. Something opens our wings, something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us, we taste only sacredness. “

Remember that dark is not all there is …… beyond all dark there is a shining river of light and all the death that ever was , set next to life would scarcely fill a cup.
Come share the water of life and drink to lives well lived. In the name of Christ amen.

In Memoriam John O'Donohue

2008-01-05T02:25:00.000-08:00

There is a place we have heard of , thought about and maybe even dreamed of. In a way we all journey towards it every day. Yesterday a beautiful irish writer journeyed there ahead of us, and we who are left behind are the poorer for it.

Rest in Peace John.

Go maire na mairbh agus a mbriongloidi
I bhfoscadh chaoin dilis na Trinoide

(May the departed and their dreams ever dwell
In the kind and faithful shelter of The Trinity.)

Facebook Theology

2007-12-28T16:12:00.000-08:00

On Christmas night after the family celebration was over and the little people were in bed, I came home to join some friends for a cup of tea and a bit of late night chat. In the midst of the banter an argument developed between two friends relating to the midnight mass we had been too the previous evening. One person was dogmatically stating that it was wrong to talk in church and that if you were not taking part in the service, then the only thing you were allowed to do in the sacred space was sit quietly and pray. And the other who is well known for his capacity to talk disagreed. I wasn’t sure why everything in me disagreed with the silence argument, partly because it was being made so dogmatically, but now on reflection I realise I disagree with it, with every fibre of my being.

For two reasons ; firstly I believe church is or should be community and therefore should reflect every aspect of community. Hence there has to be space for everything in church. For talking , laughing , weeping , singing , shouting and yes also for silence.

But secondly I’ve realised that at the core of my theology I reject the sacred / secular argument. As I was thinking of a line on my facebook profile to reflect my belief, I was reminded of something a friend in Nashville said to me a long time ago, and it was simply this. “ There isn’t a secular molecule in the universe.”
And that’s why I found this idea that church is sacred and you can only be silent there so oppressive. I believe all of us were created in the image of God and that creation itself bears Gods fingerprints. Hopkins puts it well when he says,

”The world is charged with the grandeur of God/
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil”

What a fantastic image, and for me I find the sacred everywhere, in walks by the ever restless sea , sitting in contemplation in the old monastic sites of Ireland. Watching the West Wing, gathering with friends round a dinner table to break bread, drink wine, lean in and listen to each other’s lives. Even two friends sitting by a fire with a cup of herbal tea can be sacramental. I don’t always or even often find it in church. But that’s fine. The older I get the more I find God in unexpected places – sometimes even in my own life.

Right now after 4 days of sickness I've had a piece of toast and am sitting by the fire, listening to the soundtrack from Once. Feels pretty good to me.

M

Leaping back from the mockingbird

2007-12-23T17:22:00.000-08:00

I'm back from the mockingbird and simply wanted to say - Have a blessed Christmas wherever and whoever you celebrate it with. Heres a little seasonal Buechner.

Pax Christi Tecum

M

So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about it is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; the possibility of hope.

The end of a Journey

2007-12-17T16:30:00.001-08:00

I’m sitting by a fire in old London town. The temperature outside is officially below freezing and O Brother Where art thou, is on TV. This stage of the journey comes to an end though the future is as yet unwritten. I look forward to being home and lighting a fire and having a few friends round. We will lean in, with a glass of wine and listen to our lives and the stories they hold. But for a brief taster the last 4 months have included ……….

27000 miles by airplane (I have a forest to plant)
4000 miles by train, bus, taxi, Tuk-Tuk, motorbike, elephant, bicycle and foot.
4 Continents, 9 countries, 16 Books, 945 photographs,
http://www.flickr.com/photos/14790076@N04/

Lots of people and cultural joy including;

Paris Je t’aime. Le Coup de Monde, fresh croissants, Versailles, Buddha Bar, Bastille food markets, museums that make an impression, Notre Dame, St Sulpice, Canard au miel, good wine and cycling through the Bois de Boulogne laughing like children with the mullingtons …… oh yeah

Nashvegas, city and people of my heart – if it was near the sea it would be damned near perfect. But anytime spent there is always a blessing and it can still surprise you and offer new possibilities and friendships to explore.

New Zealand – breaking bread with Mike and Rose Riddell. Remove your shoes because this is holy ground where both body and soul are nourished and loved. And the Coromandel peninsula wasn’t bad either, not forgetting the Good Dr when he finally made it from Tahiti.

Australia – Catching up with friends and family, Manly Beach, the ferry, drinks on the Opera House terrace.

Vietnam. The pollution and motorbikes of Hanoi, the glory of spending a night on a boat in Halong Bay. The charm of Hoi An, Ancient Cham Palaces and then Jungle Beach – a week in my own private heaven reading the Psalms and finding prayer as natural as breathing. Saigon, Vietnam war relics and tunnels. Mekong Delta Trip – coconut candy, floating markets, eating snake and crossing into Cambodia.
Cambodia, the water festival in Phnom Penh, the royal palaces. The horror of The Killing fields chills you to the bone and then the glory of Angkor Wat leaves you breathless. That first morning walking across the causeway to the temple, still water with lilies floating on either side and the suns first rays giving shape to the ancient stone walls. Unforgettable. As was the road to Thailand, the boulevard of broken backsides.

Thailand – chilling out in Bangkok and then heading to Chiang Mai. Bookshops, Cookery courses, fantastic foot massage, markets and falafel. Trekking into the villages on the hills, elephant riding and white-water bamboo rafting. I wrote this in the van on the way back

Elephants and Waterfalls.

This morning

Riding on elephants in the dappled green sunlight of a tropical forest.

The Mahout starts to sing quietly,

and the elephant trumpets softly and then walks on .

Stillness falls and it is a holy sacramental moment.

In the afternoon I see a rainbow in a waterfall.

On days like this I believe.

Singapore – Shiny shopping centres and afternoon tea at Raffles – well its gotta be done.

And that is just a few of the highlights. I’ve been privileged to meet many amazing people, learn new perspectives on the world, been amazed by the kindness of strangers and the prevalence of wireless internet. I’ve seen more sunrises than in the previous year put together, prayed more, read more, been surrounded by Grace and had some great food (even the snake wasn’t bad).

At the end of it I’m happier, relaxed and comfortable in my own skin than I’ve been for a long time. I am who I am and I’m happy with that. Whatever I do next the job will not define me and that is a strangely comforting notion. I’m thankful for home and friends – coming back to old friends and new life and long walks on the beach, turf fires, red wine and frosty mornings.

I’m glad to know you all and look forward to sharing our lives and stories in person very soon. In the meantime no missive would be complete without a quote from Mr Frederick Buechner, indeed the motto I try to live my life by.

LISTEN to your life. SEE it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: TOUCH, TASTE, SMELL your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace. Frederick Buechner

All is well and all is well and all manner of things shall be well.

May Blessing surround you at this hallowed and gracious time of year.

Mark

Leaping with the Mockingbird till Christmas

2007-12-05T00:58:00.001-08:00

As explained below I'm taking part in the advent Blog below ..... I don't really have the time and energy while traveling to keep 2 blogs going so for the next few weeks I will be appearing only at the mockingbird (click on the title above or below to go straight there) . But in one and only act of duplication - my friends at Moot in their service this past Sunday ended it with an extract from T.S.Elliots 4 Quartets and it seemed somehow appropriate to the season.

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always�
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

Blessings of the Season Upon Y'all

The Mockingbirds Leap - A Blog for Advent

2007-11-30T08:21:00.000-08:00

‘beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. the least we can do is try to be there.’ annie dillard

As the season of advent is almost upon us I wanted to draw your attention to a special advent blog that my good friend Glenn has come up with for the season. He has gathered a wide variety of people together, of which I'm priveleged to be one, and asked us all to be attentive to the world around us during advent. It's an experiment in spiritual attention to the presence of God all around us in every day and we do it during Advent as a preparation for the coming of Christ at Christmas. His prayer is that we will all be impacted by the immense presence of God in the world. It begins, and maybe ends, in simply witnessing to an experience of grace in our day. It may simply be the statement of an address or location, or it may be an extended meditation or a poem, it may be a photograph or a piece of video, whatever it is that speaks a blessing into our lives during Advent, bearing testimony to it on the blog, and we'll see if we can accumulate a daily witness until Christmas Day itself. The days of the Advent season provide ample time for good habits of attention to take hold and grow in our lives.

Click on the title above to go straight to the Blog and feel free to add your own comments as we enter advent.

blessings

M

Angkor – A Wonder of The World !

2007-11-29T08:52:00.000-08:00

Cambodia, land of contrasts. After the horror of the Killing Fields comes the wonder of Angkor. It is the most amazing man-made complex I have ever seen. Partly the Vastness of it – hundreds of temples and bits of temples spread for miles around. And not just any ruins but amazing fantastically intricate carvings and vast temples that would have held thousands. Angkor Wat – walking across the causeway too it is a mystical experience. Its vast – part of the biggest Religious site in the world.
Some of it is overrun with tour groups, but at some of the more remote temples you can explore corridor after corridor on your own, stumbling across long forgotten altars to who knows what God. Although the Khmers were Buddhist, they had a strong Indian influence and many of the carvings have Hindu gods and goddess’s on them.

And then there is Ta Prom – once a vast temple that had 80,000 people working in it. While many of the temples have been restored this one has been left exactly as it was when the French explorers rediscovered it in the 1920’s. It has been invaded by nature and much of it has crumbled, while the walls have trees growing out of them and there are piles of rubble everywhere. It’s a good place to act out your Angelina Jolie fantasies ( no not those ones Mullan- this is a family blog), as it was used to film parts of Tombraider, or for my generation being on the set of Indiana Jones.

Its just stunning, its incredible. It was built in the 11th and 12th Century and supported a population of 1 million at a time when London was a small town of 50,000. I’m also betting that the water and sewage facilities in Angkor would have been superior too. I would put it on my list of things to see before you die. It will not disappoint.

And so tomorrow I leave this land of contrasts which showcases the best and worst of humanity. The ancient splendour and the modern horror.

The Killing Fields and S21

2007-11-26T06:03:00.000-08:00

Today I visited S21 prison where thousands were tortured and then the Killing fields of Choeung EK where tens of thousands of Cambodians were killed by the Pol Pot regime between 1975 and 1979.

Sometimes words cannot convey all we want them to. Sometimes the horror is so much that we find ourselves mumbling Kyrie Eleison – Lord Have mercy …. On ourselves as well as the pitiful victims of the Khmer Rouge.

Today it is a strangely peaceful site with quiet waters flowing past the green trees and the faint sound of children playing in the distance. It’s hard to believe that I’m standing on a mass grave of thousands of people, many of whom were bludgeoned to death to save the price of a bullet. In the memorial on the site thousands of skulls are stacked in a glass tower, as a memory and tribute to the unnamed and unknown who died here.

We breathe in and try to comprehend what happened here. Some are silent , some quietly weep. I find the words spoken to me as a child, somewhat comforting … Our Father who art in heaven , hallowed be thou name …. I repeat the prayer as I walk around the site, though I struggle with Thy will be done on earth.

Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy

Christe Eleison. Christ have mercy on us all.

Cao Dai - its like Ikon but with better robes !

2007-11-24T07:09:00.000-08:00

Went to the Cao Dai temple in Vietnam. They are an interesting religion - its a mix of about 6 western and eastern religions and philosophies- basically take the bits you like and leave out those you dont. Lots of Buddhist influence but at one point they also had their own Pope and Cardinals. They are also a big fan of Victor Hugo and have a statue to him inside the temple. If only I had brought a copy of Petes'book with me I could have left it with them and some day we could have a statue of Rollins in beside Victor Hugo. Currently they have 3 million followers.

Culture - The Ties That Bind

2007-11-16T20:44:00.000-08:00

In Vietnam, perhaps the most culturally different place I’ve ever been to and yet it makes me think of home more. Suddenly the music of Duke Special and Foy Vance is what I listen to while lounging in my beach hut in shorts on a hot afternoon. And with the music is memory’s of cold clear autumn days walking down by the beach or through the forest kicking through those yellow leaves. Of a clean crispness in the air , of woolly jumpers and turf fires burning and warm drinks. Coming in out of the cold with flushed cheeks but feeling alive.

When it comes down to it I’m a northern hemisphere man. I like the mildness of our climate and the lifestyle that goes with it. And it is strange to think these thoughts while listening to the waves crash on a golden beach and eating some dragon fruit and loving it. And its not home sickness, because I don’t want to go home. I am loving Vietnam but perhaps, that’s part of the paradox of travel. As well as learning about other cultures, you also learn the importance of your own culture. You realise how much a part of it, you are and how it has shaped you. You also learn a lot about your self and who you really are, and also what you want in life and what you don’t know. I will expand on this more in later posts but sitting in my beach hut in a hammock gives me a lot of contemplation time.

I’ve also been reading through the Psalms this week. The Blues of the Bible. Davids’ writings ranging from unrestrained praise to shouting at God. Honestly not sure what to make of it right now – its hard and honest and raw and dull and wonderful and annoying and profound. But walking on the beach a lot it is perhaps a phrase of my least favourite apostle Paul which constantly springs to mind. In a rare poetic turn when talking to the men of Athens he describes God as one in whom we live and move and have our being. And watching the sun rise and the rain fall over a deserted beach, watching the stars from my beach hut and then falling asleep to the rhythm of the ocean ….. I think I’ve begun to understand that phrase like never before, perhaps even for the first time.

Jungle Beach

2007-11-15T01:26:00.000-08:00

Travelling, travelling and thinking. Time to wonder about life and what it is I actually like and want to do with it. And I want to create, I want to make things out of nothing. Make ideas come alive in the mind and imagination of myself, and also those who will read them. I want to love and be loved and to rediscover the joy and wonder of my very existence. There is a young girl here from Australia on her gap year. She still has a sense of wonder about everything around her, the certainty of opinion of the young but also the sheer joy at the sun, at the rain , at the electric in the air as it seemed a storm was building. It’s refreshing to be around that naïve but wonderful joy at her own existence.

Jungle Beach is a good place to contemplate these things. It’s a little no-frills resort at the end of a peninsula. Accommodation is wonderfully basic beach huts. One side more or less open to the elements and your bed is a mattress on a bamboo platform. The sound of waves crashing on the beach gently lulls you to sleep. There is nothing to do here but relax, walk on the beach and eat the fantastic food on offer. Its about £9 a night and that includes three meals a day and all the coffee, lemon water and drinking water you can handle. Tomorrow I may feel adventurous and climb the mountain to find the waterfall and go swimming. Or I may sit and continue reading a book that I am disciplining myself not to read too fast. It’s “The Shadow of the Wind,” by Carlos Ruiz Zafon and he writes with an unrestrained beauty and the whole story displays his love of literature and storytelling. Its mesmerising. Buy it. Read it . Love it .

And so what next in my own story ? Am thinking a lot about culture , reading the Psalms and a lot of other stuff but cant quite articulate where it is taking me yet. Maybe tomorrow. Right Now I'm getting the overnight Bus to Saigon because the train was cancelled. And there are some new photos on the flickr .

M

Dragons and Karaoke

2007-11-03T16:04:00.001-07:00

Halong Bay

Shrouded in mist, shrouded in myth, shrouded in mystery. Halong Bay is an incredible place. As you leave the harbour in a Chinese Junk type boat it looks like an impenetrable wall rising out of the sea, but as you get closer you realise it is hundreds of islands and the boat happily sails through them. Some of them rise majestically hundreds of metres above you and you can see why it is the home of many Vietnamese myths and legends. The main one tells us that long ago the people of the land of Vietnam were under attack from a foreign invader and they appealed to heaven for help. So a mother dragon and her children came to help them, dropping jewels and jade into the sea. Those jewels became the islands we see today and the new defences helped the people stay safe and form the country of Vietnam. The Dragons were so impressed they also set up home in the bay.

I wonder what the dragons made of our Karaoke on board the Kangaroo tours boat. Probably not much but we had a great time, It rounded of a good day visiting a cave full of stalactites, cruising around the bay and having a great dinner on board the boat. What goes on tour stays on tour but all I can say is that my rendition of Brown Eyed Girl followed by I Cant Help Falling in Love with you, had the crowd screaming for more. But ever onward after one more night out in Hanoi with the Aussie girls from the boat it’s a 16-hour train ride to Danang.

Oh Yeah and lots more photos on Flickr - click the title above to go straight there.

M

Hanoi Hello

2007-10-31T07:04:00.000-07:00

Well what can one say about the capital of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. It's big and dirty and full of life. A kaleidoscope of vendors and food cooked on the pavement and more use of car horns than even Jeremy Clarkson would approve of. It is a huge cultural change from New Zealand and Australia and I am still processing what I am seeing . There is poverty and pollution but also time. People are friendly , even if they are trying to rip you off they do it with a smile. The biggest adventure is crossing the road. The only rule of traffic in Hanoi seems to be use your horn with abandon at all times and in all places. Although red lights and one way streets exist - it is only in theory.To cross the road one steps out slowly into the flow of cars, motorbike xe oms and bicycles and walks slowly across the road. You walk slowly to allow the drivers time to see you and take avoiding action. So far it has worked well.

Although it's vibrant I'm keen to get out of the city and into the countryside. Tomorrow is an early start and then a boat trip around Halong Bay with some Kayaking thrown in and after that it should get more chilled for a week or two in rural areas and on beaches. So internet access may be limited but I will do what I Can. No photos this time - the promise of wireless internet turned out to be a 15 year old PC with the Letters almost worn off the keyboard.

But you know what its 28 degrees and so much better than working ......

Be well wherever you are .

blessings m

Westward Bound

2007-10-28T16:34:00.000-07:00

Heading to Singapore today and then Vietnam tomorrow. Had a great week in Sydney catching up with people. There are new photos on the flickr site - click on the title above to go straight there. Not sure what the internet access will be like as I travel but will update as much as possible. In the meantime as a friend reminded me the other day, 'the journey is the destination.' And onward I go.

m

As it is in Heaven / New Zealand

2007-10-22T03:44:00.000-07:00

sometimes so is it on earth. If anyone I've met embodies the hospitality of the gospels it is Mike and Rose Riddell. A sojourn with them is always a blessed time when one feels loved and affirmed, and empowered to dream dreams and live the creative life. Tonight we had a truly incarnational meal - them,me and the Dr of Higgins.

It was incarnational - food and conversation being the very stuff of life itself and we shared stories of sorrow and laughter , shared dreams and talked about what the life more abundant that Jesus promised us might look like. One thing Mike said was that he thought I was becoming more comfortable in my own skin. I think he is right and even in the few short weeks here I have felt comfortable with the life choices I've made and confirmed in giving up the job and finding time to dream it all up again. There is an old aboriginal proverb that says "He who stops dreaming is truly lost." I think i was on the way to being lost in the job I was doing and had almost stopped dreaming but now it is back and I'm feeling good.

We talked also about celebrity and how ordinary lives get lost and devalued. Every day I'm learning a little to live the Buechner Quote above - because all moments are key moments and life itself is Grace.

We also realised that though it was Gareth who introduced me to Mike 4 years ago, that it was my organising of a bus to greenbelt 10 years ago which had allowed Gareth to first meet Mike. We were all part of the fabric of each other.

Sitting by the Riddells swimming pool with a glass of whiskey was like a little taste of eternity. Receiving Grace and being empowered to go out and share that Grace with others. A glimpse of who I want to be and a little taste of heaven here in Middle earth. Tomorrow its on to Australia to catch up with old friends and family. In the meantime let me leave you with the words of New Zealand poet James K Baxter.

Miracles are needed
Miracles of nourishment
Miracles of sharing
Miracles of healing
But as we may suppose that
the age of miracles is past,
though sudden miracles
surround us like blackberries
in the bushes in autumn !

JKB

This week I've enjoyed the miracle of friendship , hospitality and Grace and I thank God that I'm alive.

blessings

m

The Judge,her lover , the Dr and the journalist.

2007-10-19T22:34:00.001-07:00

Hallo from New Zealand. I do apologize for the lack of blogging but it thats pesky real world getting in the way. Suffice to say Paris was wonderful , Nashville was sublime and New Zealand is currently everything one could wish for. We have spent most of the last week at a beach house on the Coromandel with Judge Riddell , her lover and the Good Dr.

The weather was irrelvant as we indulged in good wine, food and conversation , interspersed with long walks on deserted beaches. Much was discussed , many world issues resolved and a taste of heaven was enjoyed by all. And urged on by my geeky friends ( you know who you are ) I have opened a flickr account so that you can see what I've been up to so click on the title above or follow the link below to see the photographic evidence of the trip so far.

blessings m

http://www.flickr.com/photos/14790076@N04/

Art or Not and a little bit of unadulterated fun!

2007-09-24T04:43:00.000-07:00

So yesterday we were cycling in the Bois de Boulogne - its not often I start a blog with that line. Its the old hunting grounds of the french Kings now a huge park on the edge of Paris. Stu , Keli and I hired bikes and as we went racing of into the trees were swept by a wave of childlike euphoria - cue screams and laughter and some dodgy cycling in and out of the trees. Ah it was marvellous and then we ventured into the Bagatelle Botanic gardens where in the midst of a picture perfect garden replete with roses and fountains , there was a free classical music concert going on in the Orangerie ...... so we sat outside in the sun and were content.

I've also been to rugby matches ( least said about that the better) , Notre Dame ( so far no justifiable homicide of american tourists clutching copies of the Da Vinci Code but give me time) and the Louvre and hence my question of the day .....

What makes a work of art great ? The two photos above are works of art by Leonardo Da Vinci - one the Mona Lisa is world famous - always has a cue around it and is frankly quite disappointing close up . I much preferred the other picture of an unknown noblewoman from Naples hanging in the corridor outside with no crowds near it as they all rush past to see the Mona Lisa. So who decided what is great and what is not and why is one better than the other ..... answers on a postcard please ? Anyway am off to the Louvre again - must be all that french food .

avoir un jour splendide

m

For Sausage Baps and St George

2007-09-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had my last sausage bap of the year at St georges market before heading off on my travels and so in tribute .......

Its a little bit of heaven - a place where both adults and children can be happy. Its sometimes a little cold in the old victorian building but the light is always good. Even on a rainy day it feels bright , ethereal and set apart. A world of music and good food. The smell of bacon and sausages cooking over at the Mossbrook Farm stand. Trevor is always smiling as he hands over the sausage baps while the girls make the coffee - the spitting of the grill mixing with the hissing of the Italian coffee machine.

But ultimately its a place of friendship. A space to catch up and enjoy the company of many friends both old and new. And a space to wander and buy your food for the coming week. I cant help but love it. If heaven is a little like St Georges I'll be happy there.

and in honour of Padraig a Saintly Haiku

St Georges Market
Children Crying , bacon frying
and I am happy.

blessings

m

Discuss

2007-09-12T04:33:00.000-07:00

H.L. Mencken said, "The capacity of human beings to bore one another seems to be vastly greater than that of any other animals. Some of their most esteemed inventions have no other apparent purpose, for example, the dinner party of more than two, the epic poem, and the science of metaphysics."

Contemplating Merton

2007-09-05T15:43:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Mike over on the Moot site for reminding me about a book I read a few years ago but as is the curse of men had forgotten most of it. I love this quote but also check out the Moot website where he is sharing some others over the next little while

"Our vocation is not simply to be, but to work together with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny. We are free beings and children of God. This means to say that we should not passively exist, but actively participate in His creative freedom, in our own lives, and in the lives of others by choosing the truth. To put it better, we are even called to share with God the work of creating the truth of our identity. We can evade this responsibility by playing with masks, and this pleases us because it can appear at times to be a free and creative way of living. It is quite easy, it seems, to please everyone. But in the long run, the cost and sorrow come very high. To work out our identity in God, which the Bible calls "working out our salvation," is a labour that requires sacrifice and anguish, risk and many tears. It demands close attention to reality at every moment, and great fidelity to God, as God reveals Gods self, obscurely, in the mystery of each new situation."

Thomas Merton. New Seeds of Contemplation.

Compassion

2007-08-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

"Compassion is that sometimes fatal capacity for feeling what its like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the Knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too."

Frederick Buechner . Beyond Words.

Communication and Beauty

2007-07-23T15:22:00.000-07:00

I used to make a living from writing words and broadcasting both mine and others words across radio, tv and the internet. I know how to impart complex stories to an audience of millions ....... And yet,when it comes to real life its amazing how we all struggle to communicate what we really think or to hear what friends are really saying. How friendships can be full of misapprehensions and even fear of what someone may mean or not mean. Sometimes we judge each other directly on what we say , sometimes we listen to asides and decide that has more truth than asking the person directly what they think about something. Sometimes we are afraid to challenge others ....sometimes we are right and sometimes we are wrong. And we all find it so hard to admit when we are wrong. (mea culpa)

But surely there has to be a better way. The Moot Community in London lives by a rhythm of live through presence, acceptance,creativity,balance,accountability and hospitality. I'm working at integrating those rhythms into my life and its acceptance I think I need to work on the most ...... we defined it as
"We desire to accept both ourselves,and other people as the are,and to allow people to say what they believe without fear of judgement. We want to create a safe space where people feel at home and welcomed.We hope to learn from all those in and outside the community.'

I'm trying to do that but its very much a work in progress and I hope people can bear with me as I practice.

And finally beauty - the summer here in our little island has been terrible but when we get a glimpse of beauty its is sometimes worth the wait. Last night I was heading out to see a friend who was farm sitting in the midst of the County Down. Driving over the Craigantlet hills , the sunset was a glorious fiery clouded Turner painting - I could see for miles right down to where the mountains of Mournes were shrouded in mist. CS Lewis used to walk in these hills and its thought that a lot of the geography of Narnia is based on what he could see from here . And why not - Last night it certainly felt magical . Equally today - the sun shone and after so many days of rain the sky seemed somehow bluer , the few clouds whiter and the air freah and clean. Cycling through the forest at the back of Sanctus Boscus today all I could feel was joy ....perhaps a glimpse of what Chesterton said was that "sunrise of wonder" - the joy and wonder at our own existence .

Today I believe.

blessings ...

"The end of all seeking is purity of heart - a clear unobstructed vision of the true state of affairs,an intuitive grasp of ones own inner reality as anchored or rather lost in God. " Thomas Merton . The Wisdom of the Desert.

Any Hints gratefully recieved

2007-07-19T14:33:00.000-07:00

Am planning a little sojourn through South east Asia later in the year ...... I'll have about 7 weeks to play with from start of November till about 18th December.....

Countries I'm thinking of passing through are Vietnam, Cambodia , Laos and Thailand. I could pretend that I'm a traveller and not a tourist. But the reality is any westerner there is a tourist and while I hope to spend a lot of time sitting on beaches reading and writing - yes I want to see some sights as well .

I've never been to that part of the world so any suggestions on things I shouldnt miss will be gratefully received.

M

Sweet Sweet Endorphins

2007-07-06T12:45:00.000-07:00

After spending so long looking after cyclists in the last month I decided it was time to find out what all the hype was about. So I borrowed a friends bike and had a glorious cycle along the coast from Sanctus Boscus. Only ten miles in total but it was a splendid windswept seascape that made me smile just looking at. There was rain, there was wind in my face , there were breaks in the cloud and patches of sunlight racing over the water changing the colour from blue to green…..and very few people around. Just me and the dogwalkers, god bless them. But its one of those things – you know exercise is good , you know its good to get out into the sacrament of creation and yet when you finally get round to it – you are still surprised. CS Lewis said people do not need to be taught so much as reminded. And as usual he’s right.

Free at Last

2007-07-04T03:16:00.000-07:00

A good news story for once. Alan Johnston the BBC's Gaza reporter has been freed after 16 weeks in captivity. Very happy for him and for all my former colleagues who have been campaigning for his release.

Ah Belfast

2007-07-01T14:12:00.001-07:00

There is something beautiful about northern hemisphere summer nights. Driving back into Belfast late evening and the rain of earlier has given way to a clear blue sky though some mist still caresses the city. Out of it buildings and church spires emerge filling my soul with an unaccustomed and unexpected joy. This place is and always will be home. Many people have looked on Belfast with love but few have written about it better than Robert Mcliam wilson in Eureka Street.

"It is only as the dawn begins to break, if you stand up high, you can see the city as one thing, as a single phenomenon. Ringed by it's circles of Black Mountain, cliff and plateau. The sea and dark bay lapping right up to the foot of the metropolis. Belfast is Rome with more hills, Atlantis raised from the sea. From everywhere you look the streets glitter like jewels, like small streams of stars.
But in the buildings and streets a dark hundred, thousand, million, ten million stories, as vivid and complex as your own, reside. I think of my city's conglomerate of bodies, of spines, kidneys, hearts, livers and lungs.
Belfast.
Only a jumble of streets. Only a few big bumps in the ground.
Only a whisper of God."

And sometimes a whisper is enough. On nights like this I believe.

M

Church and State

2007-06-30T05:50:00.000-07:00

"Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction." Blaise Pascal.

For Willow

2007-06-27T15:56:00.000-07:00

Your big in Nashville !

Jetlagged but Glad

2007-06-25T08:56:00.000-07:00

I'm back in the homeland - slept for 13 hours last night. Tired but happy after the cycle trip and then the good people of Nashvegas - they make my soul feel good every time. more later after some more sleep.

blessings

100 Days

2007-06-20T14:18:00.001-07:00

Myths and Truth ? with a quote for papa Chambers

2007-06-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

Myths and Stories have always been important to me. The best definition of myth came from a teacher friend of mine who asked her class to write an explanation of what a myth was. One little girl came up with the answer....... Myths may not be true on the outside but they are true on the inside !

I've never heard better and in my current post-evangelical attempt at faith it helps me in my reading of the Bible to still access truth within the words without having to contort like crazy to make every syllable be the literal word of God.

So a year or so ago I was in Edinburgh at the book festival with Nick , Ali and Gail. We all squeezed into one of the tents to hear Jeanette Winterson speak about her latest book - Weight . Its part of the Canongate series of established authors retelling ancient myths. This particular one is the story of Atlas and Heracles. Winterson is a brilliant public speaker in her bluff northern way and made some extremely profound points. She even inspired me enough to buy the book but its taken me the best part of a year to pick it up and it was worth the wait.

Its a book I would describe as quietly profound in the midst of her trademark storytelling. It mixes the myth with some biographical stuff about her own upbringing by adoptive pentecostal parents in the north of england.

Loved it - would recommend it - click on the post title to go to her website where you will also find some provocative articles as well as all her books. I'll leave you with the 2 quotes from the book which stopped me in my tracks and demanded that i read them again allowing the meaning to sink in.

"My mother said we all have our cross to bear. She paraded hers like a medieval martyr,notched,gouged,bleeding. She Believed in Christ , but not in his cross bearing qualities. She seemed to forget that he had borne the cross so that we dont have to. Is life a gift or a burden ?

and

"Breathe in. Breathe Out. Oxygen is carcinogenic and likely puts a limit on our life span. It would be unwise though, to try to extend life by not breathing at all."

blessings

mark

And so its over

2007-06-18T10:36:00.000-07:00

The Guys cycled hundreds of miles , Allen and I drove about 3000 miles and tens of thousands of pounds has been raised for the biggest faith based regeneration project in Ireland. It was exhausting , exhilirating and in a quiet way quite profound. We learned how and how not to exist as a community , how to look after and support each other and how to achieve more than we thought we could. Its been an honour and a privielege to be involved. Here are a few random photos - click on the post heading to go to glenns blog for many more . Thanks to everyone for their support , sponsorship and interest. I'm now in Nashville where I intend to sleep until my name changes to Rip van Father.

Blessings

Click here for some video of the tour so far

2007-06-09T11:08:00.000-07:00

HI Guys ,

A little of what we have done over the last few days. Tomorrow we head for Florida.

m

More Cycling Photos from Day1-4

2007-06-08T07:44:00.001-07:00

ARE U SURE THIS IS THE ROAD ?

THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND GLENN ........

QUICK GET THE BIKES ON THE CAR, I HEAR BANJO MUSIC !

ONE MAN AND HIS MARS BAR

WE HAVE A VAN METER DOWN

SERMON FROM THE ALMOST REV HAMILTON

Today we head for Atlanta - more adventures and photos will follow !

CYCLING BLOG CLICK HERE

2007-06-07T19:07:00.000-07:00

OK the cycling madness is well under way - Day 4 was the toughest so far - 86 miles on the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. 80 degrees fahrenheit and so many hills. The guys did incredibly well - this is the team at the very top of the parkway having cycled 73 miles and ascended more than 5000 feet. I'm very proud of them all. Click on the link above for our official blog and of course its all for a good cause - East Belfast Mission and there is of course still time to donate.

www.justgiving.com/markmccleary

blessings

m

Free at Last Free Free Free

2007-06-01T09:29:00.001-07:00

This is my first day of Unemployment. As of Midnight I'm no longer employed by a large media corporation. It was a pretty good ten year relationship we had - with the ups and downs of any relationship. Perks were some good travel , getting into places I never could as a member of the public , meeting Prime Ministers , Presidents and Royalty and a few great sport freebies. There was also danger , riots , wars etc and seeing the best and worst that humanity has to offer. All in all its been a great ride ...met some amazing people , had fun but there comes a time when you need to move on for the good of your soul. And so we have agreed to go our own ways and hopefully still be friends at the end of it.

And so I am a free man - no regrets though a strange feeling that I'm losing part of what has been my identity for almost a third of my life.

On the train into Philly and discussing with Lee - what should my answer be now when folks that I meet at a party or whatever ask that perennial question - So what do you do ?

Answers on a postcard please ..... best answer will be used for the summer.

Blessings of the unemployed upon you.

m

Its Hot here in Margaritaville

2007-05-30T15:40:00.000-07:00

Sitting on the smitheys porch in philadelphia .... Lee is making Margaritas - there are tortilla chips and fresh Guacamole on hand . Its hot but it dont get much better than this.

The great Cycle adventure starts Sunday - in the meantime - another margarita - dont mind if I do.

Because the sacred is Everywhere

2007-05-22T16:18:00.000-07:00

"If a boy comes into a room, with a packet of twenty cigarettes - and if there are nineteen other people in the room - and if he gives each one a cigarette, and takes the last cigarette for himself - then, I believe, the empty cigarette packet is a sacred object, a kind of sacramental, containing the life of God, as a water-pipe contains water. I would not be surprised if it became radioactive, and shone in the dark, on account of its connection with the Love of the Many." James K Baxter

My good friend Mr Riddell introduced me to the work of New Zealand poet, minor saint and controversial visonary James K Baxter a few years back with his play Jerusalem Jerusalem. I love this Baxter quote and my day today was made sacred by having lunch with a few friends , praying quietly in an old monastic site and then sharing the tuesday table of love , food and conversation which is Team Fury.

Nothing spectacular but in its way sacramental and filled with the love of many.

Keep shining in the everyday.

blessings

Show me the Money

2007-05-16T07:20:00.000-07:00

Yes its a blatant bit of fundraising but its the first I've ever done on this site and wont be repeated. I'm leaving my job this week and therefore have a bit of time on my hands. The first thing I'm doing with that time is heading on a fundraising trip to america for East Belfast Mission. I shall be looking after 10 nutters who are cycling up to 1000 miles in ten days.

Why ? Well because its an amazing project we all belive in - working in a very disadvantaged interface area of Belfast with kids , elderly , homeless and the unemployed. I blogged about it in february so scroll down and have a read .....

But in the meantime if you have a few quid to spare click on the link above or below and spread the love .

http://www.justgiving.com/markmccleary

blessings in advance

m

Providence

2007-05-06T11:46:00.000-07:00

Its Sunday evening and its feels like the calm between 2 storms. Next week will be my busiest work week of the year - last week was probably the second busiest setting up for a huge news day involving all sorts of heads of state.

However there is always room for a few other things in life so I saw a fantastic Duke Special concert and finally managed to get a new painting (PROVIDENCE) framed and on the wall. Its by my good friend Rob Bancroft from Nashville - click on the title to go straight to his website for some other amazing stuff.

So Sunday evening after a day of storms the sun is shining and I've been walking along the beach at Sanctus Boscus. Now back and sitting on the sofa while the rays of the setting sun are reflecting on the painting and I'm reflecting on it..... wondering about providence ... Is it true or just wishful thinking ...in a week where some days I've been too busy to eat but yet been strangely content - other friends have been struggling with life ..... are we both receiving providence in different ways ..... or is it only providence when you do get what you want, when you are provided for and dont struggle. I dont know - I dont have the answers for those who are struggling But ....

Maybe a belief in providence is just wishful thinking but then as FB would say sometimes wishing is the wings truth comes true on , sometimes the truth is what sets us wishing for it.

Blessings

Happy Places - a shameless act of plagiarism

2007-04-23T13:51:00.000-07:00

My good friend the arborist and writer Mr Chambers had an interesting post on his blog today about a happy place - follow the link above to see his and read his thoughts. However I liked the idea of where is your happy place - presumably a beautiful place and what effect does it have it on you.

For me it is the old monastic site of Nendrum ..... A monastery was first built on the site in the fifth century - by St Mochaoi in the 5th century - this rests on a story about St. Patrick written c. AD 900. It is on an island just of the west coast of Strangford Lough ...... you drive across a little causeway to get to it. It is for me one of the most peaceful places on earth and one I visit as often as i can. It does feel sacred the ground somehow still retains the memory of 1000 years of prayer on the site. On a summer evening it is place of rare beauty with great views over the lough from all sides. One new years day we travelled down and the frost was thick on the ground but in the winter sun we were all moved to stillness and contemplation by it. As some good friends recently reminded me on a sunday evening - this is a place where it is good to

Be Still and Know that I am God
Be Still and Know
Be Still
Be

Sometimes when doubt - that shadow cast by faith threatens to blot out the light I go there and BE and it sees me through the night.

blessings

When the way is not a way but a place

2007-04-18T03:41:00.000-07:00

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

On Monday night a few of us went out canoeing or paddling as my more experienced friends call it. We did about 6 miles around some of the islands of Strnagford Lough. It was incredibly peaceful , almost outside of time. The sunsetting sky was sublime - pinks and purples poking through the grey clouds gradually darkening and Venus rising in the night sky joined by a few stards as we finished our paddle. We felt at peace and discussed the journey of life we were all on and how what we understand of faith is not sermons or singing but rather journeying with a group of people through the sacred moment. It was a beautiful evening and reminded me of an old Wendell berry Poem - the title of todays post is also I think from a berry poem and it perfectly summed up my mood. So try it - get out to the wild places , rest in the Grace of the world and be free.

Words That were spoken to me as a Child

2007-04-02T13:59:00.000-07:00

So a week has passed. By the curious way we number our lives I'm a year older. I've also been in hopsital for a routine knee op on my cruciate ligament. It feels good thanks but its always interesting going into hospital because having a general anaesthetic theres always that little doubt at the back of your mind about the danger of it all. As I was being injected with the magic fluid to make me sleep , the only words I could think of were those spoken to me as a child and still my refuge and comfort. And so like a little child I went to sleep saying the Lords Prayer and woke up an hour later in recovery with it still on my lips.

Maybe we do have to become "as a little child" to see the kingdom of heaven.

blessings

Mordja Amari Boradja (those who lose dreaming are lost)

2007-03-24T11:34:00.000-07:00

So, many things have come and gone since the last post. Life has been lived , people have loved and hurt one another and time is still contagious. I've been feeling trapped in a bit of a rut , working too much and feeling frustrated by some situations and powerless in others. In the midst of this I was reminded by Chris of the old aboriginal quote above and wondered if that was part of my feeling ...... I've been so much into a routine that I've stopped dreaming and stopped taking risks. So heres to taking a few risks in the weeks ahead and to dreaming dreams in daylight. Thanks also to Chris for this quote from Jean vanier which I leave with you. It spoke to more than you know .

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental
To reach out is to risk involvement
To disclose feelings is to risk disclosing your true self
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk their love
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair
To try is to risk failure
But the greatest hazard is to risk nothing
The one who risks nothing,does nothing and has
Nothing - and finally is nothing
They may avoid sufferings and sorrow,
But simply cannot learn, feel,change,grow or love
Only one who risks is free

Jean Vanier

Mordja Amari Boradja !

It had to be believed to be seen ....... Grace

2007-02-26T15:26:00.000-08:00

I spent saturday in an open air cathedral and was part of a redemptive act that gives me hope. The holy ground in question was Croke Park - headquarters of the Gaelic Athletic Association an arena where one morning in 1920 in revenge for the murder of 14 british agents that morning by the IRA , crown forces shot into the crowd at the match between Dublin and Tipperary , killing 13 spectators and one of the players.

On saturday Ireland played England at rugby and there was much media hype about the fact that God Save the Queen would be sung for the first time at the temple of an organisation set up in the late 19th century to oppose british rule. Trouble was predicted but instead we had Grace.

The day turned out better than expected - I scribbled this in my notebook .......... “ What a day - atmosphere electric , england come onto the pitch to a standing ovation . Moved to tears by the anthems , the respect for God save the Queen ..... received with dignity and given a huge round of applause .....then it felt like the stadium as one singing Irelands call. The roar when the match kicked off -an atmosphere like nothing i have ever experienced ... surrounded by friends and feeling an Irishness which included britishness and a britishness which included my irishness. It is suddenly holy ground as a nation comes of age.

A sporting holy communion with the right result on the pitch and off it - stunning rugby - a day to tell the grandchildren about - in future half the island will claim to have been there. But for those that were it was glorious - a team playhing to their potential but also a nation rising to the challenge of the hour ...showing that things had moved on and we can acknowledge the wrong of the past but not be bound by it ....we can move on ....we can be healed ....

The future is bright and not just orange ......our children and grandchildren will share this island north and south and today was another step towards that shared future . I walked away from Croke Park , hoarse and emotionally exhausted but after today I look towards our future more in hope than fear.

Authentic Mission

2007-02-15T11:45:00.000-08:00

Its sexy and a little bit exciting to protest against the Iraq war , Its quite cool to have a red Amex card - me and Bono both. Its good to drink fair trade coffee/chocolate/wine and to lobby parliament to change our unjust trade laws. But its not that hard . I know because I've done/am doing all those things and its good but lets face it - it doesnt cost us that much.

I'm wondering if the real work is done in small local projects where people give literally years of their lives. Its not glamourous and theres little glory but to me it feels like thats where its at. How we can dare to change the world if we cant start on our own doorstep. I had lunch today in the cafe of east Belfast Mission and Glenn gave me an overview of the work they are doing and the incredible vision behind the Skainos project. Click on the link above and check it out. If you have any spare cash or time consider giving to them. Its right up there with Mornington in terms of an authentic community project that is Grace in action.

I've been campaigning for fair trade and debt relief etc for years and will continue to do so but I've done little real work on my own doorstep. Over the last little while everything I've been learning seems to point to that - the only faith I have left is a simple credo - Love God and Love your neighbour. Some of my neighbours are just down the road and I gotta learn how to love them.

Blessings

Badgers,Burdens and Buechner on the North Coast

2007-02-05T09:50:00.000-08:00

"We must be careful of our lives, for Christ's sake, because it would seem that they are the only lives we are going to have in this puzzling and perilous world.And so they are very precious and what we do with them matters enormously. There is always this temptation to believe that we have all the time in the world, whereas the truth of it is that we do not. We have only a life, and the choice of how we are going to live it must be our own choice." Frederick Buechner in the Alphabet of Grace.

Up on the North Coast for the Soliton emerging church conference. A great weekend of conversation with emerging church folk from Ireland , England and the US but 2 moments will stay with me for a long time.

Saturday night near midnight with a full car travelling towards Castlerock when out of nowhere a badger runs out into the road - Instinctively I slam on the brakes and the car starts sliding towards the middle of the road. I have no choice but to straighten up and hit the badger full on. Any swerve might have killed us all. It didn't - we survived and incredibly so did Mr Badger despite quite an impact and going right under the car causing a fair bit of damage. Life is a thin thread which could have been snapped that night but it wasn't and we continued into the mystical experience of Sunday morning.

Early ethereal winter morning with mist rising and frost glistening on the ground. We gather on Whiterocks beach and walk through an ancient coastal landscape. A dusting of frost clings to the sand dunes as bright winter sunlight raises the spirits but not the temperature. In one direction a mile of golden sand with the gentle music of the waves breaking on the shore as we dander along. A few horses gallop by, splashing in the shallows. Incredibly a few surfers are braving the freezing waters. Cary turns and muses - " Surely there must be professional help available for them somewhere ?" We walk back to the other side - looking towards the headlands and the ruins of Dunluce Castle just visible through the mist.

Our guide is Jim a local beachcomber with his years of experience etched into lines on his weatherbeaten face. Jim is passionate about the beaches and natural beauty all around us. He is the teacher I never had at school - his love and passion overflowing through every word - he shows us the things he finds washed up on the beach. We learn how the cliffs behind us were formed by millions of tiny creatures. As I hold a piece of white paper he uses a magnet to separate the black sand from the golden. And he shows us the flint which sustained the first settlers in this area 9000 years before us. And Jim is also something I hope to be one day - Authentic. He speaks simply and beautifully of his walks on the beaches and his conversations with God.

At the end he invites us all to go and pick up a rock - bigger the better - and then come back. As we hold our rocks he continues to talk. Then asks a simple question - are the rocks getting heavy ? And then the parable - he invites us to see the rocks we are carrying as our burdens whatever they may be for - people , situations even our own lives. We take a moment to look at the sea and think of those burdens and then..... in a profound moment of art and faith we lay those burdens before God - building a sculpture of rocks on the beach as a sign between us and God. Jim weeps for the beauty of what we have done - a memorial between us and God that even now has already been washed away but yet will forever remain.

I felt like a child again ,delivered , healed and whole in the embrace of a brown and earthy God who took pleasure in us casting our burdens on him, who loved the sculpture of those burdens and encouraged us all to walk barefoot,fly kites and make sandcastles.

"There is deliverance, to use that beautiful old word, and Christians are people who through such now-and-then, here-and-there visions as they've had, through Christ, have been delivered just enough to know that there's more where that came from, and whose experience of the little deliverance that has already happened inside themselves and whose faith in the deliverance still to happen is what sees them through the night."
Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember

On days like this I Believe and it sees me through the night.

Community in sadness and in joy

2007-01-23T15:29:00.000-08:00

A strange week bookended by life and death. One member of our community loses a loved one while another welcomes a new life into the world. Both ends of life and the rest of us in the middle trying to make sense of it all and find in each other the strength and love and support to keep going.Joy and sadness mixed.

But community has to work in sadness as well as joy or theres no point - we laugh , love and weep together or not at all.

Continuing to read Benedict and his thoughts on community are as ever simple and profound.

"They should each try to be the first to show respect to each other , supporting with the greatest patience one another's weaknesses of body or behaviour."

Rule of St Benedict ,72 'The good zeal of monks'

I pray that we will continue to do so at this sad and also joyous time.

m

Lessons for a slow learner

2007-01-18T16:46:00.000-08:00

Contentment in Sanctus Boscus.

Am sitting by a turf fire at midnight , Emiliana Torrini is singing on the Ipod and I have a glass of single malt Macallan uisce beatha in my hand.

I'm learning the beauty of slowing down and listening to my life. Tonight it was catching up with a good friend - listening to each others lives and realising that life itself is grace.

Thats all it was, nothing spectacular - just 2 good friends sipping tea by a fire and finding out what was happening in each others lives. And yet I am more content than I have been for a long time.

It is in the little things that we find the greater truths.

Try it .

good night

sleep well and remember that life is grace and that we are fearfully and wonderfully made .

blessings

District and Circle

2007-01-15T14:56:00.000-08:00

Irelands greatest living poet Seamus Heaney has won the TS Elliot award for poetry for his latest collection, District and Circle, which draws on his travels to work on the London Underground in his younger days.The prize was presented by TS Eliot's widow, Valerie Eliot, at a ceremony in central London.Heaney's work was described by the judges as "exhilarating".
The TS Eliot Prize for Poetry is organised by the Poetry Book Society, which was founded by Eliot in 1953 to develop and maintain poetry reading in the UK.

I remember being introduced to Heaney at school and the poem which I started with has remained to this day my favourite. A changing of the guard from old ireland to the new ireland - a new way of digging for a living , nay maybe even to survive. Anyway I'll be raising a glass to Seamus tonight - ok so he's already got a Nobel prize but still well done.

Digging

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun.

Under my window a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,
Just like his old man.

My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, digging down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

Seamus Heaney

blessings

Sitting by a Turf Fire Resolving

2007-01-07T14:50:00.000-08:00

When turf burns it fills the room with a fragrance and also with memories of the uncounted years ...memories of the earth ...of things that have been and gone maybe a thousand years ago but still there is a trace of them left in the earth. Nothing is ever quite forgotten in this land of saints and scholars and those who are somewhere in between.

Its the time of year when many of us make resolutions - I've never really liked them but this year as we sat round the dinner table here in Sanctus Boscus on new years eve we talked about how we would like to live in the year that will be known as 07.

For myself I would like it to be a year of living generously. A year of investing in friendships and people and of realising what is actually important. I've been reading a book called Finding Sanctuary - Monastic Steps for everyday life by Abbot Christopher Jamison. Its basically a simple up to date explanation of the rule of Benedict and how it applies today. One of his main points about the business of modern life is, that business is our choice. We choose to be running from one thing to the other and complain about not having enough time. Well I'm going to choose this year to be less busy and to have mroe time for the things i love and that are important. Reading books , walking on the beach , listening to life - my own and those I am lucky enough to call friends and trying to work out what it means to believe in God in the 21st century.

So heres to a year of hospitality , silence , contemplation , meditation , friendship and occasional faith .

As a good friend texted to me on new years eve - May it be a year of living out your dreams, be they big or small , of daring to love and being loved for who you are. You are precious.

May we all be generous with each other , embrace the mystery and enjoy the ride .

blessings .

A Very Celtic New Year to y'all

2007-01-03T06:22:00.000-08:00

As we sail into another year I have been reading a little of the 3 surviving works of St Patrick. Of the 3 perhaps the most famous is the Lorica of St Patrick - a lorica being a type of prayer of protection (literally meaning "breastplate"), which was popular in Celtic countries. This particular prayer is said to have turned St. Patrick and his followers into deer when they were being pursued by the king’s men early one morning--hence the title "The Deer’s Cry."

Although I enter 2007 more in hope than fear it does no harm to recite the breastplate of St Patrick - may his blessing and protection surround you this year.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity
Through belief in the threeness
Through confession of the Oneness
Towards the creator.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension
Through the strength of his descent for the Judgement of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim
In obedience to the Angels,
In the service of the Archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of Apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of Holy Virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun
Brilliance of moon
Splendor of fire
Speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind
Depth of sea
Stability of earth
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s host to secure me
against snares of devils
against temptations of vices
against inclinations of nature
against everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and anear,
alone and in a crowd.

I summon today all these powers between me and these evils
Against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and my soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of heathenry,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that endangers man’s body and soul.

Christ to protect me today
against poison,
against burning,
against drowning,
against wounding,
so that there may come abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my leftChrist where I lie,
Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength,
the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Towards the Creator.
Salvation is of the Lord
Salvation is of the Lord
Salvation is of Christ
May thy salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

Moot Homily with apologies to Buechner

2006-12-11T02:08:00.000-08:00

Had the pleasure of visiting Moot in London last night and partaking in their service. Below is the homily.

Presence Moot Service Sun 10th December with much culled from the many and varied writings of Frederick buechner.

So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about it is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; thepossibility of hope . Do you believe .........

Let us clebrate the presence of GOD this christmas time and also our community - our communion - our presence with and in each others lives ..... gathered as we are here in the least of the churches of westminster .

It is good to be present with you tonight. I’ve missed being here physically for these services but I feel that in a way I havent really left at all. It reminds me in a way of a story that Henry Nouwen told of how a former student came to visit him after a year apart . They sat on the floor facing each other catching up on what had been going in each others lives. After an hour or so they feel silent but neither felt uncomfortable and they sat just enjoying each others presence and a deep peace filled the empty space between them. Finally his friend said “When I look at you it is as if i am in the presence of Christ .” Nouwen replied “ It is the Christ in you who recognizes the Christ in me.” HIs friend then replied with what Nouwne said were the most healing words he had heard in many years ....From now on wherever you go or wherever I go , all the ground between us will be holy ground.” And when he left I knew that he had revealed to me what community really means.

And I agree - its how I feel about Moot - there is holy ground between us and always will be ...sometimes it feels closer like when Gareth and Philippa came for the weekend or when I can make it over here ...but I know that wherever I go now there are parts of me that have been shaped by Moot and the people here .... And the Holy ground between us - thats what community is all about ....whether its family or friends .. you can kiss them goodbye and out miles between you but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart , in your mind , in your soul because we dont just live in a world ...but a world lives in us.
And as with any homily from me at some point Mr Frederick Buechner will be involved and as usual he says it better than me.

"When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I'm feeling sad, it's my consolation. When I'm feeling happy, it's part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." the good thief said from his cross (Luke 23:42). There are perhaps no more human words in all of Scripture, no prayer we can pray so well. " Jesus Remember me

Remember me - thats why we are here ...thats why we are present .....in the presence of each other and of God. Look around you from the oldest to the youngest ...we are here to remember Jesus - what we are a part of tonight is the communion of saints........ someone will walk to the altar and break the bread and bless the wine ...the rest of us will sit here quietly waiting to get in on the act.....we all have a part to play and its not just us - If the prayerbook is to be believed - Angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, cherubim and seraphim surround us - if we could really see it , it would look like the fireworks exploding over the London Eye on new years eve, it would sound as beautiful as the aria from Mozarts marriage of figaro and yet be as wild as the Atlantic ocean in the midst of a winter storm - and we are part of all the company of heaven- thats everybody we have ever loved or lost ...including the ones we didnt know we loved until we lost them. Its people we know and people we have never heard off . It means everybody who ever did or at some unimaginable time in the future ever will - come together at something like this table in search of something like what is offered at it.

Whatever other reasons we have for coming here tonight to this table , if we come also to give each other our love and to give God our Love , then together with Gabriel and Micheal and Brendan the navigator and Godric and the civil servant and the social worker and teresa in her ecstacy - yes even St Patrick himself ......... with all of them and us in this room we are the communion of saints ..... look at each other - enjoy each others presence and lets try to live the cornerstone of our faith ..... Love God and Love your neighbour - on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets ......

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord

ADVENT TOO

2006-12-07T08:46:00.000-08:00

Was writing a homily for a MOOT service and reading some Frederick Buechner. This is a papraphrase from a longer and beautifully written passage in his book ' The Faces of Jesus.' It seemed somehow appropriate to the time of year.

So hallowed and Gracious is the time - these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. Marcellus is walking on the cold battlements of Elsinore speaking to his companions of the time of Jesus Birth - its a hallowed time he says - a holy time - a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering in its depths something precious , timeless , other. And also a gracious time - a time we cannot bring about. It is a time that comes upon us as grace - as a free and unbidden gift from God as we celebrate his presence amongst us. At Christmas time it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something. Peace on earth , goodwill to men ; a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto even if it is only a dream ; the mystery of being a child ; thepossibility of hope .

Do you believe .........?

ADVENT

2006-11-29T07:37:00.000-08:00

ITs that time of year again and from the National Gallery an advent calender for art lovers.

http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/collection/features/advent/default.htm

blessings

Atonement

2006-11-24T17:18:00.000-08:00

This guy has been blowing my mind with a theology which seems to articulate a lot of what i've been feeling for a long time without properly being able to express it .

check out this on the atonement

http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng11.html

and may it rock your world[view]

blessings

The Holy Ground Between Us

2006-11-22T15:53:00.000-08:00

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Walt Whitman
US poet (1819 - 1892)

Have been musing about friendship since my recent north american sojourn and return home to live in Belfast. CS Lewis said that people need not so much to be taught as to be reminded. The last little while I’ve been reminded just how many amazing people I can call friend. Within a few weeks I reconnected with a lot of incredible people both in Canada and in Nashville. And honestly wondered what I’ve done to deserve to be part of their lives.

And yet the strangest thing is that those who I admire the most and have learnt from - people who have shaped my life and thinking - are perhaps the ones who need your friendship most . It is a scary and humbling thing and one I’m very thankful for. To the good people of Nashville you have my love and respect. There is holy ground between us and always will be. Thank you for continuing to live generously.

Back in Belfast realising how much our community needs each other is reassuring and makes me feel I am in the right place now. The right place to give and to recieve, to push the boundaries and break out of the old ways of thinking ....to listen to our lives and realise what incredible things they are.

I leave you with this from Papa John O’Donohue. May it lift your morning and rain upon your day.

Matins

I
Somewhere,out at the edges,the night
is turning and the waves of darkness
Begin to brighten the shore of dawn

The heavy dark falls back to earth
And the freed air goes wild with light,
The heart fills with fresh, bright breath
And thoughts stir to give birth to colour.

II
I arise to day

In the name of silence
Womb of the word,
In the name of stillness
Home of belonging,
In the name of the solitude
of the soul and the earth
I arise today

Blessed by all things
Wings of breath
delight of eyes,
wonder of whisper,
intimacy of touch,
eternity of soul,
urgency of thought,
miracle of health,
embrace of God

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,
Gentle in word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in Love .

Amen says me .......... blessings

Yay Yeats

2006-11-14T03:06:00.000-08:00

I've always been a fan of the WB -Irelands greatest poet [in the english language] . My good friend Mister Tumnus ( http://mistertumnus.blogspot.com/ )reminded me of this poem recently on her blog and It resonates deeply within the foul rag and bone shop of my own heart . Enjoy

The Circus Animals' Desertion

I
I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last, being but a broken man,
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.

II
What can I but enumerate old themes,
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the bosom of his faery bride.

And then a counter-truth filled out its play,
'The Countess Cathleen' was the name I gave it;
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away,
But masterful Heaven had intervened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.

And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart-mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
Players and painted stage took all my love,
And not those things that they were emblems of.

III
Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind, but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

The Power and The Glory [of Broadband]

2006-11-14T02:42:00.000-08:00

I apologise for my absence. It was mainly due to a lack of internet access at home. That has now been remedied by the good people of NTL who have installed broadband in my humble home. Since my time in North America I have been musing much on the nature of friendship and one quote keeps popping up again and again.

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends.
Walt Whitman
US poet (1819 - 1892)

The last month has made me sure of that . I have to go to work now but the next post will develop that thought more .

Blessings.

The Eagles Are Coming

2006-10-20T09:41:00.000-07:00

So screamed Bilbo at the end of the Hobbit during the battle of the Five Armies.

I'd never seen an eagle in my life before and then last week on Vancouver Island I saw 2 . Different days, different beaches, different sides fo the island but equally stunning. The second time the eagle circled round a few times before settling on a tree just behind us. The Elvish Princess and I stopped our picnic and looked in awe - it was so close we could hear the beating of his wings. If i was a poet I would write a verse but even now I just find myself filled with silent awe at the beauty. Luckily Gerard Manley Hopkins had a smiliar experience a century and a continent apart from mine but his words on seeing a falcon flying one morning are still beautiful and i offer them to you.

blessings

The Windhover
I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

-- Gerard Manley Hopkins

O CANADA

2006-10-17T15:37:00.000-07:00

Dont worry not all my posts will be this long - Just a little something i wrote on the ferry last week going from Vancouver to Vancouver Island.

Vancouver was amazing - a city of contrasts - sea and mountains and my favourite season. Crisp autumn mornings with a nip in the clear mountain air. Sitting drinking coffee and watching the seaplanes taking off from the harbour warmed my soul. Its a big city but didn't feel overwhelming and closed in like London - there was always a sense of space and from almost everywhere you can see the mountains or the sea. Clean and healthy feel , travelling on the electric buses - all human life is here ... it feels good and of course good banter with femininefeminist.

Meantime I’m feeling alive - there is a still a hint of the new world here,its spirit is still felt.The spirit of carving a new life out of the harsh but beautiful wilderness around. We are passing sailboats and forested islands ....there are seaplanes landing, fishing trawlers heading out to the Pacific - it feels real. It feels like life is meant to feel. There is a little clearing at the waters edge with a mini lighthouse , a square white 2 storey house and a fluttering flagpole on a lawn. As we get closer now other houses start to poke out from amongst the tree lined shore. A blast on the ships whistle scares those on the outer deck - a man in a green shirt uses his fingers as earplugs- and somehow looks pained and amused at the same time. We are in a narrow channel between 2 islands - swiss style chalets on one side and more modest abodes on the other.

Its a breathtakingly beautiful ferry ride ....this is the way we are meant to live - not in concrete choked cities which suck the life out of those within them. Am listening to the new Duke Special album - it feels like the best work he has ever done. Songs from the deep forest feels appropriate here as I look out on forested islands all around. It also feels alive and young like the country around me. Stunning - I dont love you - half as much as I should . I dont get those pop and idol shows - everybody knows that the good things take a little longer. Its true - I need to write a lot more - give it the time it deserves .

There is a pretty girl in a red and yellow checked coat sitting across the way reading Harry Potter. She wears her beauty like it was a burden and doesnt smile at those who catch her eye but looks away instead. I wish she could hear the Duke singing ...” the sun will rise once more , yes it better / the sun will rise once more if you let her.”

I do feel most at home near the water . I love Nashville and am posting this from there but I'm not sure I could ever live here. I love the restless everchanging sea. If i feel God anywhere its there - feeling my soul resonate with the creation and the creator.
"come on come on come on my soul - i dont wanna stand still - i just want to freewheel."

The river of life has many tributaries .....there are many turns along the way and many different possibilities. Many different scenarios one could fit into. Many different places one could have ended up - sometimes its enough to drive you mad ....... all those possibilities and the self doubt that you have made the wrong choice ... lived the wrong way ..... how to find peace within that ..well look at the sea and realise we end up in the right place in the end - some of us just have longer journeys.

till next time Blessings upon you .

2006-10-17T11:09:00.000-07:00

Into the world of blog .... I am still not entirely comfortable with what Lawson so well described as this benevolent act of narcisism. I'm not convinced that my life or anyone elses, is interesting enough to share every day ....but some days ... yeah some days you smell the rain , breath in the sunshine and feel the Oran Mor - The rhythm of Life - and you have something to say. Or you have a need to write and there is a hope that out there somewhere what you write will resonate with another human being. Or it coluld be that you are a bad writer and the only way to become a good writer is to start bad , write lots, and hopefully maybe one day we will run faster , try harder ........ but no we beat on boats against the current , born back ceaselessly into the past.

more later my children - blessings and salutations

father M