The Path of Belonging

Vulnerability

2012-01-19T22:20:00.001Z

"[We are] vulnerable to our techno/virtual culture creating a false sense of our power as the earth's god, and as such, we are no longer capable of listening and learning other than from ourselves." (A Journey Tracing Roots, Peter Cock. www.ecopsychology.org)

Alternative Perspectives

2012-01-15T20:36:00.000Z

There is a bike ride I often do around here and although I often vary it in various subtle ways it remains very much the same. Yesterday, however, I did the ride in reverse and it felt quite different. When you do the same journey time after time you do notice different things about the landscape but, usually you are seeing it from the same perspective. By turning round and altering the viewpoint it is interesting how the familiar can suddenly become quite different. There are new views, the light comes from different angles, the hills are different... etc. The overall landscape hasn't changed as such but how you approach your viewpoint has. I found my ride quite enlightening, new and refreshing. Perhaps it is good to turn around and go the other way for a while!

***

I happened to attend a men's breakfast organised by my church yesterday which initiated the impetus to do the above bike ride. It was the first time in many years that I had been to a 'Christian' thing and not come away emotionally upset, angry or frustrated. I think I am learning to settle down a little now and forming a method of coping and existing in such environments. I think yesterday I approached worship in a different way so that I could participate in a more accepting and tolerant way. For me it is about looking at the words of modern day 'choruses' and looking for the mystical, ecological, elemental and natural references that can be reinterpreted into a sort of eco-cosmic-pagan interpretation. I was mildly surprised at how much symbolism and terminology can be cross-referenced. For example: we sang a popular church chorus that contains the lines 'Shout to the North and the South, Sing to the East and the West'. Now that did remind me of something to do with the casting of circles that I have come across in my readings elsewhere...

***

Everyone has story. Each is as valid as one another's. Acceptance of this is important. Our story forms us into who we are up to the present moment.

***

Why is it that so much of a hang up in Christian circles about people not being worthy or having low value? It feels as though there is an ingrained concept of negativity that pervades the faith that teaches people they have no worth apart from their worth in God. This frustrates me because from an 'original blessing' view I would never teach this - it almost encourages the devaluing of people and who they are. I'm probably deeply wrong on this, but I'm not putting forward a well thought through argument on the case here as it needs more indepth theology and thinking!

January Blooms

2012-01-09T22:13:00.000Z

Today was warm. Warm for January anyway - probably about 10-12 degrees C. I had a little walk at lunchtime and was quite happy to be out without a coat, hat or cloves. The high winds of last week have given way to a relatively mild week. Over the past couple of weekends I've been out gardening - weeding the allotment; pruning and cutting back shrubs and plants in the garden and general tidying up and odd bits of landscaping. There seem to be ladybirds hiding everywhere.

In Devon over just before New Year saw the occasional daffodil, crocus, celandine, herb robert, red campion, dandelion, white deadnettle and blackberry in flower.

Walking through the garden at Castle Drogo on the north side of Dartmoor almost felt like being somewhere in early spring. There seemed to be so many bushes in bud - quite subtlety in most cases yet it felt significant and as if the plants were about to awaken from dormancy.

On the allotments yesterday saw marigolds and wallflowers in bloom. Felt like it was time to plant seeds and potatoes - but that should be another couple of months away!

Forsythia flowers, early cherry (?) blossom and wild arum leaves also seen.

Place of trees

2012-01-09T20:53:00.000Z

Notes from sketchpad 28 December 2011, Lydford Forest, Devon

Sheltered : cool breeze but not cold : sunlight highlight the beautiful bright greens of the mosses underfoot : south facing : cloudy with sunny intervals : high pitched calls of birds (tits etc) : whooshing of wind in tree tops, but still here : golden brown leaves on beech saplings : murmur of stream below : mosses all over the ground - deep, soft : spacious : light filters down between the dark douglas firs : Qi Gong - feel and hear the moment of the air around me : special place

Beauty of Creation

2012-01-09T20:37:00.002Z

Reflections written 27 December 2011 whilst at Lamerton Church, Devon.

There is beauty in this dark porch. Sheltered from the cool breeze with dusk falling and light fading. It is impossible to see what I am writing so I am having to scribble by guesswork. The old metal gates are silhouetted against the dark yews and the greyness of the churchyard. This old wooden bench is my resting place after the hours of motorway driving and the beginning of a holiday at the end of the year. Christmas is over and this is a pilgrimage that takes me out into the wildness of nature. Here I am, in this old stone porchway of this ancient stone church.

This small space is so old and yet so beautiful. The handcrafted stones stand cold and exposed, like the tors on nearby Dartmoor. With the high arching woodwork, an old heavy wooden door, Christmas floral arrangements and crafted metal gate this is a wonderful place to be - to rest. It is a place created by ancient craftsmen - you can sense the work of their hands and you can imagine the 1000's of worshipers who have passed through into the place of worship. By their handiwork the craftsmen give their gift to God. This place reflects the beauty of the created world in a time when wood and stone meant so much to people who knew how to use their hands to fashion form from the wilderness. How their skills have been lost and with them a sense of awe and wonder at the simplest of things. The heavy stonework exudes peace.

This is my place to Be right now.

Painting the Landscape

2011-12-19T22:09:00.001Z

The landscape before me is like a thin covering of paint covering the surface of the earth. It is thin, fragile, possibly applied with care and thought and frequently admired by observers. Given the right tools, as with most paint coverings, it can easily be removed. Technology has enabled us to emulate nature's form and texture within 3D animation software and here a pixelated landscape can be manufactured to mimic and exaggerate natural processes and structures. Yet the one thing it does not able to have is an actual organic life to enable it to live and exist independently. The real landscape is set before me - the painted surface of nature and life that has been applied to an inorganic substrate. All this is life. The trees, the grasses, the soil - it all exists as a living ecological system. And we can sit and admire the painting and wonder at the mysteries of the painter.

As I sit against a tree sheltered from the cold wind, I am aware of the contact that I have with the ground, and this ground extends way from me connecting all places on the planet. I feel connectedness and grounded - part of the trees and all that surrounds me - and then when I am back on my bike and moving off into the winter sunshine I am free to go wherever I am able.

On a day like today, when the sunlight and clouds dance above the transparentness of the winter's day, the light create new visual textures and forms that are transient and beautiful. The painting is alive with imbued creativity.

How do we look beyond the painting? Is it just a thing of temporal beauty or is there more to it than that? How do we look to honouring, resoecting and working with this created form and not just use it in an act of consumerism?

Where are the true wisdom seekers and visionaries who can develop a sound framework of leadership, economic stability and spiritual depth that can be accepted by people in this post-modernist world. Is the fragmentation of culture, religion and society sustainable? How can we be brought together to form new ways of living that can become more honouring to the planet upon which we live. How can we protect ourselves from ourselves and the future? You can't just sit back, look at the painting and say "God will save me - I can't deal with all this big picture, long term or vaguely spiritual stuff". That is just ignoring the ability we have as humans to find within us the spiritual strength to take control of our personal development and any responsibility for our actions that may be affecting this earth. Denial of the intrinsic value of our fragile earth is self-indulgent escapism, sinful and ignores the possibility that Jesus could have a salvific effect on nature. His blood, after all, may have touched the wooden cross - a symbol of the natural world perhaps.

What does Christmas mean?

2011-12-11T20:30:00.001Z

When you sit alone - amongst a landscape of trees that twist, cream and sway in the strong wind that is powering over the hillside - what does Christmas mean? It isn't quite a gale, but the warm buffeting wind has brought greyness and occasional spots of rain to an otherwise bright and sun-filled week. Here I am, sheltered from the turbulence that breathes restlessly around me, feeling the landscape beneath my feet stretch away down the hillside and out towards places where Christmas dwells in homes and towns. The landscape doesn't know Christmas. It gives us the essentials for our life and yet Christmas seems a self-centered indwelling of the human spirit that has no connection with what I am experiencing here. Yet the birth of Jesus, from a cosmological perspective, began the salvation of the earth from the sinfullness of consumerism that may ultimately destroy it. For us humans this highlight of the year is meaningless to the trees around me - they are oblivious to the Christcentric revolution that occured on earth in human culture two thousand years ago. Christmas fails to acknowledge the ecology of our fragile biosphere unlike the more pagan and celtic festivals that honour the rhythm of the seasons and the interdependence of man and nature.

I have, for a few hours, escaped the need to be part of Christmas. I am surrounded by it at work and at home but up here it has changed its meaning. Yet if the message of Christmas is the birth of love, then that is what it does mean to me - love for all those around me and the giving that I partake in signifies that. On days like this I can give myself to the landscape in an offering of presence and awareness that I would like to believe it appreciates. Its gift to me is one of beauty, peace, life, salvation and light. Light. For now, at this one moment in the whole day, the sun has just appeared through the greyness to touch the fields and trees around me with a faint wash of brightness and colour. But as soon as I see blueness between the clouds above it, it begins to fade and the heavy greyness recovers its ground.

* * *

I see two ladybirds on the ground beside me. There have been many this autumn. They look cold and tired.

A Warm Autumn

2011-12-02T21:01:00.001Z

It is only in the last few days that there has been a more significant chill in the air and a touch of frost on the ground in the mornings. November has been relatively mild, especially when compared to the freezing conditions we had around this time last year. We've hardly needed to put the heating on at home yet.

The photo was taken a couple of days ago one lunchtime on a walk over fields near to where I work. It was a bright sunny day and it was a mistake to have taken a coat with me as it was milder than I was expecting. Exposed soil on the fields was totally dry in places though very moist in shaded parts by woodland. Last weekend I moved around some plants in the garden because the soil was so easily workable. We haven't had any significant rain here in the South East for many months and there are news reports of the drought continuing well into next year. We have had rain this year, but nothing like the quantity required to replenish ground water supplies.

Reflections on a Druid Path

2011-11-27T21:33:00.001Z

I've just skimmed through the New Order of Druids Bardic Course. I have picked out some odd bits that caught my eye, paraphrased parts of it and given a few direct quotes. The course looks very interesting and detailed for those who wish to do a more thorough look into the beliefs and practices of the Druid path, but it isn't something I would wish to do mainly because it delves into areas which I'm not really sure about (as to whether I agree with them or that I would want to explore - but I could perhaps say the same about some of the things here!).

Learning from The Land
It could be said that ancient Druidism is part of history and therefore irrelevant to today's modern lifestyle. It is a term that belonged to a group of people who lived in a culture that was very different to ours. By using it today are we not just trying to relive a romantic and idealistic spirituality that is tinged with nostalgia and a sense of wanting to be different to other people the world around us? If this isn't relevant to today then in a spiritual context this denies the fact that it could perhaps be transcendent, transpersonal and archetypal. In today's world where our consumerist lifestyle is fed at the expense of the natural world, is this a valid a spiritual framework upon which to build a respect for the environment around us and a source of values upon which to decide personal ethics? What it is then is a response, like all other spiritualities are to the world around them - "a response to the divine beauty of the world and our desire to participate with it". If you have a keen attachment and sense of belonging to the natural world then I suggest that the framework upon which modern day druidry hangs its philosophy is valid and can sit comfortably within a more eco-centric Christian faith.

"Over time, the spirit of the people in relation to the spirit of the land shaped this response. It took on the colors and textures that were birthed through this dynamic interaction; and so tradition was born. To be a druid meant to be part of the learned class of society, it meant playing a role – whether a central role such as a judge, historian, storyteller, or even sometimes a king; or the more socially marginalized shamanic roles of magician or healer. In either case, the druid was centrally concerned with the workings of society and the community’s relationship with the land.

Behind the 'roles' of druids lay the spirit or archetype of druidism. It is this archetypal pattern that druidism, in all its forms, has grown out of. In asking what 'authentic' druidism is, we must ask what this archetype is, and whether modern druidism is in alignment with it. In this respect our answer is deeply personal. Because archetypes, which are primal patterns of consciousness, transcend human nature, and remain a numinous mystery, there can be no fixed objective scale for determining the authenticity of the response."

The Ecological Unconscious
Theodore Roszak has formulated the concept of the "ecological unconscious" (The Voice of the Earth, 2001). The human collective unconscious is a place in which resides cultural, social and religious patterns, symbols and archetypes. The ecological unconscious is place of all the ecological, wild and environmental patterns, symbols and archetypes. It is this that connects us with a deep bond to the cosmos from which we have emerged, and the earth which is our home.

Animism
Druidry is deeply rooted in a relationship with the earth and acknowledges the interdependance between all aspects of the natural world: soil, plants, mountains, rivers and animals. Thus it does have a deeply animistic flavour - it is a mutual conversation between humans and nature. This relationship is as valid now as it was in the Celtic times. The cultures may have been lost and changed, but authentic natural relationships are as important today as they were to the Celts. I am unsure about working with non-ordinary states of consciousness, but as a framework for fostering growth and wholeness I think it has much to offer.

"In essence Druidism is more than a spirituality or religion, but is a way, and unlike organized religions it does not interpret reality for us, but rather asks us to question everything and interpret the universe on our own. So it can, at times, be difficult to know what ground we are standing on, or whether we even have solidity beneath our feet. In Druidism, it is really that ground which defines what the path is; that foundation. Everything above the foundation hinges on our own subjective experiences, but the foundation itself, the roots and structure, are what gives us our cultural and spiritual identity."

Nine Strands:
Tribal dimension: our cultural identity
Art: creative expression and inspiration
Healing: Balance between humans and 'more-than-human communities'
Metaphysical: understanding the universe, the cosmos
Seership: divination, but not just that; wisdom, Otherworld connections
Ritual: Joining the flow of the rhythm of the universe
Natural Philosophy: direct physical experience of the natural world
Teaching: writing, teaching others, simple conversations. Cultivate new knowledge and wisdom within ourselves
Service: we grow in order to be of service to the world as well as our own

"[This path is...] simply a perspective, a way of defining what is often so hard to define. It’s left to personal experience then, what the Druid Way is, and how it informs our actions. Like all ideas that may not necessarily hold true for all, but can neither be labeled right or wrong, this one might just bring some light to the darkened forest of the soul."

Interweaving
We need to look afresh at the world and see the sacred pulsing through everything and recognising the divine presence of the sacred. From an animistic perspective soul is all around us (John O'donohue ' The body is in the soul') - this is a way of seeing the numinous imbued in everything - everything is filled with divine beauty. This is why the Celtic view of divinity is different from later anthropomorphic/human images. Celtic art reflects this idea of the interconnectedness of things and the idea of Divine creative energy or Shaping where lines, knots and spirals turn from one shape or form to another, to a human, to an animal etc. It is a world of dynamic fluidity, nothing is static. This is one way of looking at it because a more basic view is that Celtic art was developed purely as a design element that filled empty space! Much of it was developed in the Christian Celtic era onwards.

"Our current industrial worldview is one that promotes the destruction of self and nature, and through them, soul and spirit. This dissociation however is simply psychological. In reality there is no separation between nature and soul, or self and Other. The illusion of this separation is a result of our perceptions about ourselves and the world around us. To heal this dissociative gap we must have a shift in worldview, from anthropocentric (human centered) to ecocentric (earth centered), and re-imbue the phenomenal world with an acknowledgement of the sacred."

A more cosmological view of the world would see all things as being animated by spirit and what is sacred or not depends on our perception and an opening up of all of our senses. The Celtic mind would see the world more in terms of things as cyclical, spiraling, ebbing and flowing between dark and light, winter and summer. Duality gives way to places between these things - where they meet - a thin place. The Otherworld is like the soul of nature - we move through this nature-soul with a dynamic openness of spirit. It could be within our psyche or it could be a real place - a spirit world perhaps.

Is there an Underworld/Sea (the unconscious), Middleworld/Land (normal waking consciousness) and Upperworld/Sky (Spirit)?

Spirit of Place
How do we interact with the landscape around us? What is the "spirit of place" and how does this connect with our memories, history and myth?

"Each specific place in nature has its indwelling spirit in the Celtic traditions. This animistic world-view, held by many native traditions, is the product of a belief in the sacredness of all things. Unlike many world religions which hold that divinity is entirely transcendent, animistic traditions believe that this divinity is both imminent and transcendent. God does not only dwell in heaven, but within the Earth as well. This view was held by both the ancient Celts as well as the modern ones. While Celtic Christians speak of this as the imminence of God, Celtic pagans speak of this as the spirit of place. If human beings can be conceived of having their own spirit, individualized as well as connected to the larger whole, then it would not be too far of a stretch to conceive all of the physical world as being possessed of the same spirit."

Myth, landscape and the Otherworld interact with one another. This means that the landscape in interacted with, more than just a human playground and a backdrop to our lives. It holds its own personality, grows as we grow and we are both shaped by each other.

The Language of Nature
What do we mean by communicating with the other-than-human world? Does nature have a language? The natural world communicates and expresses its own subjectivity by "presence". It isn't necessarily an enlivening mystical energy but something far more mundane. When we experience presence we feel and experience something in our body. It is about the physical nature of a thing, the authentic embodying of its own inherent nature - it is the sound of a stream tumbling over rocks; it is way a tree grows, the shape of its branches and the texture of its trunk - this is how it expresses itself through its own presence. Things then become subjects, not inert objects. Everything becomes a dance and a dialogue. We have to be careful though because as self-reflective beings with egos we have the capacity to create messages and make things up.

The Sacred Dreamtime

"All of the history and legends surrounding the island merged with the sound of the lapping waters on the shore, the mountains in the distance, the breeze coming off of the lake. In that second my awareness and consciousness were completely in the Sacred Dreamtime. ... All aspects of it, history, myth, and place all merged into one. ... The Sacred Dreamtime does not move in a linear progression. It is not a progression at all. It is only now. Within this moment are all things that are. Within this second resides everything that is, everything that will be and everything that was. There is nothing that has been or will be. They are. Now. Within this moment, are all universals, all archetypes. To be in the now is to enter the otherworld, to touch the sacred; to wakefully experience the Sacred Dreamtime."

"The universe is a communion of subjects rather than a collection of objects", Thomas Berry.

Mindful Walking

2011-11-14T22:27:00.001Z

Wapley Hill, Herefordshire

Slowly, each step is placed with conciousness and awareness of its place upon the earth. I'm in a place where time has no immediate pull on the mind and it doesn't matter if the journey takes five minutes or half an hour. The trees barely move so why should I move with determination and eagerness? The earth makes no noise beneath me so why should I tread heavily? I am a visitor in the woods so why not become like the wood? Shape and form, texture and colour, smell and touch become my companions as I notice my form and presence amongst the dampness, the soft silent mist and the other beings who inhabit this landscape of conifers and ancient man-made earthworks. With an attentive mind to the presence of everything around me I notice the drops of water hanging on the ends of conifer leaves, the damp cobwebs on old tree roots, the fungi on delicate branches and on the decaying branches and waste wood than scatter the newly cleared hillside. I am aware of the depth of the space around me and how the trees and undergrowth fill that space. I marvel at the brightness of the autumnal colours that brighten the misty darkness. Like Qigong, this is a way of walking that asks the body to be slow, to be present, to be aware of every movement and and to take notice of the way it is made. I don't expect to see or sense anything amazing, but I take pleasure in just observing the small, the detail, the present.

I leave with a sense of depth and fullness.

Man-made Landscapes

2011-11-13T21:42:00.001Z

Wapley Hill, Herefordshire

It was just before daybreak that I parked the car at the base of Wapley Hill. It was surprisingly warm and after I had set off on my walk I soon had to return my coat to the car as I was overheating. Yesterday had been a beautiful warm sunny afternoon with the bright yellow mahonia fowers in my mother's garden covered in bees and even a comma and red admiral butterflies. Today was shrouded in mist and although it brightened up later in the day, I didn't get any views during my limited time on the hill. An area of conifers has been cleared on the northern side of the hill and when I was up here a few weeks ago I saw views I had never seen before. Today I sat for quite a while at the edge of a new clearing and watched what I could see of the landscape around me. Some blue tits, a wren and a goldcrest kept me company at one stage.

To facilitate timber extraction on this very steep side of the hill a new track had been bulldozed along the side of the hill for a good half mile or so. The ground must drop away at least at a 45 degree angle or more in places so a reasonable amount of the limestone/shaley soil had to be moved to create a level track. I noted how the track ran along side the lowest ancient ramparts of the Iron Age Hillfort thus creating a new 'rampart' lower down the hill. I wondered at the manpower time and energy expenditure in creating both of these earthworks. The bulldozer would have created in minutes what would have probably taken months or years to construct by hand.

What I also pondered was this. The Forestry Commission are probably within their rights to construct such a track without any need to get planning approval or to consult local residents etc. The track will substantially change forever the ecology and microclimate of this part of the hill. Possibly for the better as it will create more edge habitats and and introduce light onto the ground layer, thus encouraging a greater diversity of plants along its length. Whether the track will increase public use and access to this part of the hill I'm not sure. But if I walked along it, then others are bound to also. So this is a highly significant change to the landscape that is irrepairable and permanent (like the hillfort too). Will anyone be complaining about it? I doubt it. Even though possibly thousands on tons of soil and rock have been moved in its construction.

Now, consider a proposal to build a large wind turbine on the same hill. A structure with a minute ground footprint in comparison, only a few tons of soil displacement and with probably hardly any measurable ecological impact. I wonder what the public reaction to that would be...?

New Gallery

2011-11-04T21:05:00.000Z

I am starting to rejig this blog a little by condensing an overly long list of labels and to add tabs that show my artwork and perhaps broaden its outlook. It is far easier to manage this site than keep my main website running which I never get round to updating (can't bothered with Dreamweaver!).

Listen

2011-10-30T22:20:00.002Z

Sitting, waiting and listening. In a place of belonging. He looks out over the patterned parallel lines of emerging wheat to the distant flame coloured autumnal trees. Shadowless they stand in the almost pleasantly warm early morning breeze. The fields seem lifeless under the greyness of the heavy clouds. Searching for meaning; searching for the unknowable, searching for the unexpected; searching for that something that will transform the ordinary into spirit - the real into the surreal.

Skylarks sing high and unseen. Above the gentle fields their song feels as though this should be springtime and not the end of October. A flock of fifty or so noisy seagulls rise from not far away and circle past him, silently - twisting and turning before vanishing against the horizon.

Once more in the stillness. Alone, it would seem at first glance, but yet not. A ladybird and a small dark brown snail move by his feet - this field edge being the beach to the sea of monoculture. The will of Gaia is always strong: to bring life and bio-creativity to any bare land.

From the far distance the repeated ring of a single church bell mingles with the song of the larks. Together they call to him, both have the same message. Listen to me, listen to song; listen to 'words', listen to an 'other', listen to spirit. Unlike in the film 'The Wicker Man' two worlds of otherness sit side by side. They become one.

Dreams in the Landscape

2011-10-23T19:27:00.000Z

On autumnal earth, with leaves that have become a memory of summer, the trees reach for the cosmic light of creation, presently obscured by deep grey haze that softens the landscape around me. The shedding of leaves is like a bowing before the creative authority - a recognition that submission to the winter is a price to pay for the beauty and wonder of the life of the year past. A relaxation of energy, as if an exhalation of breath before the biting of the forthcoming winter.

Slowly, from the revealed branches, whispers of colour descend to the silent earth. The gentle chatter of leaves in the cool breeze is the only movement. Taller branches sway almost imperceptively.

Be still, like my companions.

A ladybird: the first of many that I'll see today enjoying the autumnal warmth and later sunshine. I hear a distant skylark, crows and nearby a wren, a flock of tits and pheasants.

Be still like my companions.

I sit and wait, how different to the intenseness of the digital world that shapes our lives. There, energy produces the light of display screens through which we interact. Here, light produces the embodied energy of the wood with whom I interact. In the ten or so minutes that I have sat here little has changed. A subtle change of light perhaps. A new fallen leaf on the ground before me perhaps. Yet the same time passing on a tv screen would have thrown a multitude of mesmerising images towards me. Here, the millions of leaves are my pixels.

Dreams in the landscapes - the words that came to me just as I approached this place to write - seem a little out of place. And yet here in this landscape I can have dreams. Dreams that are just as valid as those that technology presents to me. Perhaps it is to do with expectations - resolved and unresolved, surprises, discoveries - dreams can be formed in both worlds. You have to shift your perspectives and expectations. Dreams are about taking hold of the imagineable and creating reality. Perhaps the tress can do this as much as a computer screen can. I wonder if they know that?

Radnor Forest Willows

2011-10-13T21:10:00.002Z

I have to stop. I am unable to go on. It seems as if this place has forced me to stand in its presence. I have cycled through a large area of conifer plantation in the Radnor Forest on the Welsh border and now I have emerged to a place where the trees uphill to the left of me have been felled and the hill drops steeply down though open fields to the right. Along this edge of the forest road is a row of windswept and almost leafless Goat Willows that stand in contrast to the monoculture around me. They seem an unusual find, and somehow out of place here.

The cool wind is loud in their branches and I shelter in front of a pile of felled timber and sit and wait. Why was I called to stop here? Somehow my initial thoughts on arriving here were evocative of a cold and frosty winter's day. Is there something of a memory that is tied up here with childhood memories and my father? Am I just recalling an unidentifiable moment from the long distant past?

I almost feel a heaviness - a pity for these these beautiful trees that have for so long been hidden from the true light of day by towering conifers and which now lie fully exposed to the elements on this east side of the hill. Perhaps it's the sound, the deep song of the branches that ebbs and flows so slowly - like the movements in my qigong. Nature may just be saying "stop, and just observe me". I'm on a long bike ride and haven't much time to stop and dwell in one place. Here I am given the opportunity to do so.

I do some meditation before I get too cold and just absorb into my senses this unexpected special place which others would just pass by. I give thanks to the place.

Awen, Chi and the Holy Spirit

2011-09-25T20:48:00.000Z

As I begin a course in Qigong exercises, which I hope will be beneficial to me in several ways, it has set me pondering on a few wayward thoughts. Something seems to have made a few connections as I try and embrace meditation, exercise, sacred space, healing, nature awareness and work/life balance. I'll probably write more in the future but, as an initial exercise, I did a quick web search to find some definitions of the three main ideas about 'spirit' that I now seem to have an interest in. I withhold any form of comment or analysis for the time being.

AWEN

The word comes from a proto-Brittonic root for breath and breathing connecting well with the same sense in the English word inspiration. In the Middle Ages bardic scholars held that 'awen' came directly from God, from Ysbryd Glân, the Holy Spirit. (druidnetwork.org)

'Awen' derives from the Indo-European root "uel", which means 'to blow', which is the same root as the Welsh word 'Awel' which means 'breeze'. Awen is the breath of the divine which gives inspiration; the wind of the spirit. (celtic-tattoo.net)

Awen is a Welsh word for "(poetic) inspiration". It is historically used to describe the divine inspiration of bards in the Welsh poetic tradition. Someone who is inspired, as a poet or a soothsayer, is an awenydd. .... Awen derives from the Indo-European root *-uel, meaning 'to blow', and has the same root as the Welsh word awel meaning 'breeze'. There is a parallel word to 'awen' in Irish, ai, also meaning "poetic inspiration" which derives from the same ancient root. ..... It is also said that the Awen stands for not simply inspiration, but for inspiration of truth; without Awen one cannot proclaim truth. The three foundations of Awen are the understanding of truth, the love of truth, and the maintaining of truth. (en.wikipedia.org)

QI (CHI)

The ancient Chinese described it as "life-force". They believed qi permeated everything and linked their surroundings together. They likened it to the flow of energy around and through the body, forming a cohesive and functioning unit. By understanding its rhythm and flow they believed they could guide exercises and treatments to provide stability and longevity. (en.wikipedia.org)

HOLY SPIRIT

The Greek word "Pneuma" generally refers to spirit and is found around 385 times in the New Testament, with some scholars differing by 3 to 9 occurrences.[12][13] These usages vary, e.g. in 133 cases it refers to spirit in the general sense, 153 cases to spiritual and possibly 93 times in reference to the Holy Spirit.[12] In a few cases it is also used to mean wind or life.[12] (en.wikipedia.org)

In the Tanakh, the word ruach generally means wind, breath, mind, spirit. In a living creature (nephesh chayah), the ruach is the breath, whether of animals (Gen 7:15; Psa 104:25, 29) or mankind (Isa 42:5; Ezek 37:5). God is the creator of ruach: "The ruach of God (from God) is in my nostrils" (Job 27:3). In God's hand is the ruach of all mankind (Job 12:10; Isa 42:5). In mankind, ruach further denotes the principle of life that possesses reason, will, and conscience. The ruach imparts the divine image to man, and constitutes the animating dynamic which results in man's nephesh as the subject of personal life. ... When applied to God, the word Ruach indicates creative activity (Gen 1:2) and active power (Isa 40:13). The Spirit of God also works in providence (Job 33:4; Psa 104:30), in redemption (Ezek 11:19; Ezek 36:26-27), in upholding and guiding his chosen ones (Neh 9:20; Psa 143:10; Hag 2:5), and in the empowering of the Messiah (Isa 11:2; Isa 42:1; Isa 61:1). ... In short, as the ruach is to the created nephesh, so the Ruach Elohim is to God Himself, part of God and identified with God. Ruach may be understood as the Author of the animating dynamic of the created order, the underlying Principle of creation, and the One that imparts the nephesh to the entire universe. (www.hebrew4christians.com)

Understanding the OT terms “Holy Spirit” and “the Spirit of God (or the LORD)” and the theology associated with them depends on grasping the significance of the fact that, in about 40% of its occurrences, the Hebrew word “spirit” (ruakh) basically means “wind or breath,” not “spirit.” The NT word (pneuma) is also used in this way on occasion. And when these Hebrew and Greek words mean “spirit,” the reference is often to the human “spirit.” Furthermore, certain passages draw out the correspondence between the Spirit of God and the human spirit, and the importance of God’s work through this correspondence (e.g., 1 Cor. 2:10-12). The Spirit of God is the person of God that vivifies the spirit of people to God (Ezek 37; Rom 8:16). The baptism of the Spirit shifts the metaphor from “wind” to “water,” the point being that physical purification by water has a corresponding reality in the purification of the human spirit through the Holy Spirit (Matt 3:11; John 1:32-34; Ezek 36). Similarly, like physical water, one can drink of the Spirit as water that gives life to the human spirit (e.g., John 7:37-39). The Holy Spirit did all of these things for both Old and New Testament believers, so in this sense the Holy Spirit not only indwells NT believers, but also did something similar in the lives of OT believers. (bible.org/seriespage/holy-spirit-hebrew-bible-and-its-connections-new-testament)

"Is the Holy Spirit our Divine Mother? - If the experiences of the Holy Spirit are grasped as being a ‘rebirth’ or a ‘being born anew’, this suggests an image for the Holy Spirit which was quite familiar in the early years of Christianity, especially in Syria, but got lost in the patriarchal empire of Rome: the image of the mother. If believers are ‘born’ of the Holy Spirit, then we have to think of the Spirit as the ‘mother’ of believers, and in this sense as a feminine Spirit. If the Holy Spirit is the Comforter, as the Gospel of John understands the Paraclete to be, then she comforts ‘as a mother comforts’ [cf.. John 14.26 with Isa 66.13). In this case the Spirit is the motherly comforter of her children. Linguistically this brings out the feminine form of Yahweh’s ruach in Hebrew. Spirit is feminine in Hebrew, neuter in Greek, and masculine in Latin and German.” (www.adishakti.org/_/term_spirit_translates_the_hebrew.htm)

Apples

2011-09-25T10:44:00.003Z

The late summer sunshine gathered in the dappled colours of the orchard. Cool green shadows, dew-laden grass and scattered apples belonged patiently in an autumnal morning. She walked silently, thoughtfully and sensingly. This was a place in which to give thanks and this is what had brought her here. Here she could see the fruits of the Awen before her. She knelt to the ground and selected a fruit that seemed to catch her eye. It seemed to reflect the whole of the orchard in its presence. The mottled reds and greens of its skin danced in harmony with those of the fallen leaves that sprinkled the ground around her. With thanks, she held the apple up to the sky and here the whole earth become embodied in this single, beautiful fruit. Creation, energy, life, desire - intertwined with the Divine. The earth became the fruit and the fruit became the earth. Round and fragrant, full of promise and goodness. Yet, at the back of her mind, as she brought the apple to her soft lips she remembered the tale of her sister Eve and the temptation that could only have come as she sought the presence of God. To eat the apple was to taste the goodness of God. How could God forbid the taste of His original blessing? As her mouth drew upon the fruit of the Divine garden her senses cascaded with delight. The earth tasted so good.. Here was the ultimate creation, here was a Divine blessing.

The apple tree stood and watched, it was after all, part of the narrative. And yet it remained unchanged. The Creator; standing, laden with more tempting delights as if giving an offering to the earth, sacrificing itself for the wondrous delights of its fruit.

She stood and gazed at the tree and gave it a whispered thanks. She extended a hand to a laden bough and welcomed a delicate touch of the aged bark. Together, the two of them, brought together by a single apple, a union of understanding. How could this be wrong? Both had been given life, a cosmic life. There could be no separation for each belonged to each other.

But few understood.

Greenbelt 2011 Notes

2011-08-29T09:31:00.000Z

I went to the Greenbelt Festival again this year and, as usual, it was overflowing with things to see and hear. I was only there for the Friday evening and all day Saturday and so had to make the most of limited time to find things that I was inspired by as well as try and entertain the family. I booked a chat with a spiritual director who gave me one or two things to ponder over and the main thing that I valued was being in an environment with so many ideas and varying perspectives on the Christian faith. Quite a few speakers where very inspiring but there wasn't really time to try and engage with them after their talks other than a quickly grasped 'thank you'. For once I didn't feel isolated, but felt at home with similar nature aware souls.

I made a few notes and I've just type them up here with no effort to sort them out or untangle any knots so they may not make sense but will aid memory and initiate thoughts at a later date. Accuracy is not guaranteed!

John Bell: Faultlines and Phantases

Suffering and environmental disasters - why does God let it happen? Jesus does not equate sin with the cause of personal suffering. Our world has fault lines - the world was not created as perfect but 'Good'. There is rock and there is sand. Structures can collapse, but not because of sin. Even Jesus ends up in a boat in a storm. The world is not inherently evil. Faith is not an insurance policy. Environmental disasters are a necessary discord in the earth. Discord is part of a symphony. Nature is not the enemy - we have to deal with a world that has dangers. We are quite comfortable here in this country and yet we complain about the weather as if it we were a major disaster. We are not always tuned in to the song of the earth. Nature and God co-exist in a covenantal relationship. God promises not to destroy the earth (rainbow)- the rainbow is a symbol of war - that God will not destroy the earth with his own weapon. Nature's disasters can be caused by humans not living in harmony with the natural world. Nature is not at fault so don't blame it. God says humanity is 'Good' but not ' perfect'.

We have to be connected with those who are outside of us: disconnected or in pain. Sometimes we can puzzle about things that have no answer but the mystery will loose its fear when are touched by those things. Jesus does not cure everyone. He does not avoid pain. Saying sin causes pain is abhorrent to Jesus. Jesus has no time for that. If we say God is unfair we are distracting ourselves from that pain.

But what about intentional harm: drunk drivers, paedophiles, rioters... A consequence of being human? Good people get hurt and killed - insolvable mystery. God does not bail people. God does not side with presumed victors. People who persue [Christian] victory at all costs, God will not bail them out if things go wrong... (?).

Rioting: not condone it, but society is ruled by the £ and consumerism. Rioters will end up in gaol but the financial institutions won't. bankers walk away with millions - no wonder people want their share too of the goods. Financial obesity - no cure sought. We are bound to consumerism.

God enlarges the hearts of those who do not know the answers but ask questions. God might enable pain to heal others. Jesus came into the world to enable us to live with all people - the well, sick. persecuted etc. Jesus enters our dilemma to live with hope in an imperfect world.

Alan Mann: Allotment Atonement

Community/social inclusion/justice for the good. About atonement - people:earth:God. Relationships - bringing something of our connection with God. Atonement: something done by God for us, and done by us for others [healing of God's relationship with humans after the fall in Garden of Eden when man disobeyed God]. Allotment: gateway to a wider connection to the earth. We are human from the ground up - Hebrew for 'human' similar to the word 'ground'. We cannot be 'at one' [at -one-ment] if we are not grounded in the land need to be reconciled with the earth and with God. Fear of failing - nature might beat me if things don't grow - it wins. If reconnect with earth then reconnect with people as well. Soil is not against us - need to work with its goodness. it is 'good'. Genesis - tend the garden. Spirit of God gives life to the earth. God reconciles us to the earth - at one with creation. Interrelatedness.

What is our connection with the earth?: sense of belonging [me], foraging, practical, peace, gardening, wholeness, special, magical, form of witness - restoration of humanity, connects people, patience (can't grow carrot in a day).

How can the soil be a gateway to a different kind of life?

Keith Skeine: Tribalism and Diversity

Plants are tribal - all connected by mycorrhizae of fungi under soil. Humans most tribal of animals. But it is tribalism that is important: it can exclude the exchange of information when it thinks it knows best. Dangerous as it then excludes diversity and brings loss of personal accountability. Multiculturalism - are the tribes tribal? If the tribes don't intermix then there is no diversity. How tribal are components in a multicultural society?...... Doze sooo tired..........!

Bruce Stanley: Nature as Spiritual Director

How to read the second book of God - understanding God in Nature - God's revelation in the natural world. You can understand so much of God by reading nature:

AWE: Isn't it/God amazing. Just BE in the moment

STUDY: mindfulness, find your passion

MEDITATION: what does it mean?

Coaching or facilitation of communication with God and developing authenticity (?). Nature calls for us to give it attention when we are in it. Causes you to worship, pray and engage. Pilgrimage, ritual etc. Jesus' formation in the wilderness. In Nature - going in intentionally as part of a process - not just a visit. Best when we are alone. We are made to engage with it, to have a dialogue with it. Awakens senses, not just sight - find a deep authenticity of yourself. Patience, humility, health and well-being, less pain and stress; thinking, focus, improved concentration, calms mind. Jesus was experiential in what he did. What changes when we are in nature - time emotions etc. Go into nature and ask specific questions. Soul places, thin places.

Stonechat Land

2011-08-10T20:56:00.000Z

Sketchy notes made whilst on the Gower in South Wales

Along the darkening cliffs towards the Worm's Head at Rohossili. Blue-grey sea to the left with clear, almost cloudless sky above; and to the right the windswept purple heather and gorse of the cliffs and cloud covered distant downs. The developing edge of grey clouds clouds above reflect edge of the cliffs below. And along this edge in front of me the bright orange sun reveals itself on the horizon. Its dazzling light a brilliant intrusion upon the grey landscape.

In the shelter of a rock high above the rocks and waves I watch the sun slowly slip behind a band of horizon cloud. The white quarter moon hangs out to sea: a celestial companion to the sun whose developing redness paints the cloud base. I am reminded of the ending to the original Wicker Man film. Now it has gone and I feel more alone now - just an occasional gull floats by and the grasses waving in the wind. Alone, to walk back through the bracken and restless stonechats.

I feel as if I have been here before. Possibly, many years ago and my memory can't recall details.

In an Edgeland

2011-08-10T20:36:00.001Z

Sketchy notes made whilst on the Gower in South Wales

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
where the cliffs give way
and the purple heather and yellow gorse
reveal the black rock
and churning foam

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
where life meets death
where light meets dark
where the land reveals
its ancient rocks
and the restless sea
guided by the moon

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
where all behind me is left
and I can go no longer
and further forward.
This place tests my awareness
of life and possible death
and as the light fades
beneath the grey sky
the brighter horizon take with it
the memories of the day

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
where the cliffs are ragged
and the tumbling rocks
reveal unsteady ground.
I'm on my own
I must take care
before the night comes again

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
where I want my pain
to be like wave pounded rocks:
edges removed, roughness eroded
and soul massaged by the waves.
In isolation I sit
upon the close knit earth and herbs
I want to sing my song
to the music of the waves

I'm in an edgeland
I'm in my edgeland
sheltered by the cliffs
yet open to wildest elements
I'm open to their being.
The deep rocks reveal their history
the water of life is unwelcoming
and yet here I sit
listening to the landscape
and asking for its healing.
This place reveals creation
the edge is a place to be.
The edge is Divine Glory
The edge is the creation story.

Thank you

Edgeland

2011-08-10T20:24:00.000Z

Sketchy notes made whilst on the Gower in South Wales

Waves, crashing against the time-worn rocks; rolling pebbles and an on-shore breeze. White spray over ice-green water beneath a solid grey sky. Here rocks form the grassy cliffs meet the infinite horizon of distant hope. Tumbling down; weather-worn over the years to meet the white foam. the sound is rhythmic and relentless. Beyond this point I cannot go, for here safety meets danger - a landscape that is foreign to me, and one that could easily bring death. I can go no further, these rocks are a symbol of my fate: erosion, pain brokenness, darkness; cold and wet. I am on the edge and a light drizzle now begins to fall - almost imperceptible. Colour grips to the eroded rocks in the form of many flowers: yellows, lilacs, purples, pinks and white.

The eroded cliff gullies reveal deep layers of conglomerate rock beneath the soil level, perhaps 20ft down. Embedded in the rounded stones are abundant white 'snail' shells. This place is a symbol of age, landscape changes and the passing of timescales beyond our comprehension.

On Rainbow Painted Hill

2011-07-17T21:25:00.003+01:00

A partial rainbow hangs over the distant hill. The morning has woken to a cool breeze and a light dampness in the air. Scatters of low grey cloud drift restlessly beneath higher white broken clouds which in places reveal the blue above. I shelter in the lee of elder, hawthorn and ripening wild plums by leaning against my bike and look outwards from my high vantage point over the fields of ripening corn and oilseed rape. The rainbow has now gone, but its memory has painted the landscape. Its strong bold colours that drifted in and out of visibleness in the open space above the land are reflected in the vibrant colours of the flora and crops that drift in and out of season: red poppy, blue borage, purple knapweed, yellow wheat, green pineappleweed, pink mallow, lilac scabious and white chamomile. Today they meet−colours dancing in the breeze.

The oilseed rape is ripening but some crops I've seen are showing significant pod shattering−the result of the long drought of the spring. Later in the day I will pass the first barley fields that have felt the presence of the combine harvester, probably just a few days ago.

I have passed many puddles that hold the result of yesterday's rain and the damp earth and chamomile carpets create a heavy perfume. The verges are full of knapweed, hogweed, clover and an abundance of other plants and flowering grasses. As the fields are preparing for harvest, so Nature is in full swing with flower and seed.

Apart from the occasional crow and skylark there is only the sound of the wind brushing though the hedge and the waving grasses. I feel a sense of waiting; will the gathering clouds bring rain or will they clear to bring sunshine? I think that rain looks likely. On the far eastern horizon I can still see sunlit clouds, but they are disappearing fast. I've left the house and the harshness of the town and become a visitor again amongst those who live out here in the open. I have come to share their day and experience the elements as they do and find freedom and healing for my soul.

I move on, cold from sitting still.

The Weary Traveller

2011-06-12T20:58:00.001+01:00

With the dream of bare feet upon cool grass and the fragrance of damp earth upon which to dwell and Be, the traveller came to the land. From the emptiness of beginnings and the darkness beyond remembrance she came. Through the dust that stirred in the breeze and the sunlight warming the expectant air she came with desire. A longing; a vision - an aura of excitement that breathed with soul. With a tentative toe she dipped into the new waters that glistened beneath an empty blue sky. The clouds would come soon. From her spirit she released her imagination to play games, birthing into existence colour, form, movement and the senses of life. She had waited for this, for a length of time that held no meaning or understanding.

She sat down upon a stone at the water's edge and called out to the shimmering landscape of life before her.

"I see myself in before me. I am with you all and you know me. Yet time will pass and I will be like a leaf disppearing into a whirl of leaves in an autumn of cold expectations. My journey will have faded from memory but its presence will always be with you. Those who look for it will find it, amongst the shadows and light."

Time passed and she faded into the sound of the waves lapping on the shingle shore. The stones would hold her body and remember seeing her, but her spirit ran wild through the whispering trees, the wild waters and the fruitful earth. Her spirit an free.

June Evening

2011-06-09T21:51:00.002+01:00

I'm sitting in the summerhouse in the garden and have had to put on one of my padded winter shirts. The evenings and nights are still chilly and my tomatoes and courgettes aren't growing as much as I would like them to. I've started to harvest the new potatoes and I seem to have a glut of lettuces. I bought a pack of mixed lettuces back in the spring and the dark red ones have been a runaway success. They have thrived in the drought in the both the garden and the allotment whereas normal green ones have struggled to get going. We had a good bit of rain last weekend which has been a thankful relief and the weather is now a bit unsettled but it was probably too late to make much of an impact on struggling arable crops which are well down on yields.

I am reading 'Wildwood - A journey through trees' by Roger Deakin and thoroughly enjoying it. Most of my reading has been a bit heavy over the years and this is a good easy read and very interesting. Some people have the very fortunate ability to relate to and write about nature in very deep ways. For me it is always a struggle. I think mainly because I am not in a rural environment and life and work just doesn't revolve around countryside ways in the way it does with others. My garden and allotment are an integral part of my life but often in a very functional way. I can take time out to go and enjoy the countryside - I don't have to attend to it or manage it, that is someone else's responsibility. Thus I can appreciate it from a different perspective.

This evening I have forced myself to sit outside as dusk approaches and do a bit of painting and writing. The air is cool and fresh. A blackbird sings atop a neighbours television arial and the honeysuckle is just beginning to flower. Its fragrance is superb.The longest day will be in only a couple of weeks and summer doesn't feel it has arrived yet. The long warm spell we have just had did have a bite to it. The nights were cold and it seemed a foreigner in a strange place at this time of year.

We had couple of days in Derbyshire last week and visited Ilam, Dovedale, Hardwick Hall and cycled along the Tissington Trail. Two beautiful days were given to us and it was a superb mini holiday.

It feels an odd year this year in some ways. I haven't drummed much. Life seems to be revolving around work, home, redoing the kitchen, the allotment and just keeping up with day to day things. A lack of inspiration and external input has put my philosophical and spiritual exploration on hold it seems. And the weeks whiz by....

Mid May

2011-05-19T21:36:00.001+01:00

Life is busy and the inspiration to blog is weak at the moment. This is a very brief catch-up.

The long dry warm weather continues. Oilseed rape and bluebells have finished flowering, cow parsley and wild roses are in all the hedgerows, and wheat is well in ear. I'm not spending much time out in the countryside at the moment as my energy is directed elsewhere.

The allotment hasn't seen any significant rain since I dug it over in March and the soil hasn't weathered much. Too many large rock hard clayey lumps remain. Potatoes are well up and those in the garden have flower buds on. I'm starting to harvest lettuces and herbs are doing well. Chives are covered in their beautiful lilac flowers and there is mint, thyme, marjoram, sage and rosemary to add to salads and sandwiches. The onions and garlic are doing well and I've planted out red cabbages and broccoli. Seeds of carrot, leek, parsnip and beetroot have germinated but seem to be a bit slow to progress. Days have been warm and sunny but the evenings have been chilly at times. I'm watering where necessary. I've planted many things on the allotment and have almost run out of space there - likewise in the garden too. I've got tomatoes and more courgettes to plant out soon. One of the problems with the allotment is the poor quality of the soil. It needs stuff growing on it to break up the clay lumps and a decent amount of organic matter to improve soil structure. I water with care so as to try and avoid a hard surface crust but I'm going to break up the soil more shortly and try and introduce selective deep watering.

I have been busy re-doing our kitchen. In true permaculture style I am repairing, cleaning, sanding and rebuilding the kitchen units where possible using contiboard. It isn't the neatest of materials to cut but for ease, cost and flexibility it is ideal. It has is hard work and quite exhausting but with the good weather at least I have been able to work outside on the patio. I have bought a new hand saw and electric sander which have made life so much easier. I will paint over all the units and get new doors when we see ones we like on offer at a local diy store. Then we will get new worktop, new sink and new tiling, all of which I hope I can install myself. I'm not aiming for perfection, but it will certainly end up much more pleasing than what we have had and for a fraction of the cost. The cost of everything seems so high nowadays and we are trying to cut down on expenses where possible.

Work is going incredibly well and I am enjoying the creativity of what I have to do. I have no vision for the future and I am not sure how to progress this.

My spiritual life seems to be a bit on the back burner for the moment mainly due to just having to get on with so many other things. I'm feeling so much healthier though - possibly because it is warmer and I am being so active in and around the house and the allotment.

From Creator to being in The Created

2011-04-25T21:31:00.000+01:00

In mid-April I took a short break to my usual haunts in Herefordshire. I left work one Wednesday evening and travelled up to Hopton Titterhill where I camped out in the car for a night. I then went on a long bike ride before going to stay with my mother and doing some gardening work for her. It is now over a week a later and I am only now writing up my notes and reflecting on my travels.
The light is disappearing beneath the grey skies. I have had an easy journey here and at around 8.30pm there is still just enough light to enable me to absorb some of the landscape and cook a light meal. Then I go for a walk.

I saw a woodcock 'roding'. It made a very distinctive "craw, craw, squeek" sound as it flew with rapid wing beats between the trees. I hadn't seen one display like this before and I had to look it up when I got home to check what I had observed.

There were a couple of deer on the edge of a field and only a slight breeze in the trees.

Walked out onto a dry flat cultivated field that was showing initial signs of spring barley growth. It probably hadn't rained since the seed was sown. Darkness is all round me and the mooing of cows in a valley farmyard echo around the hillsides overlooking Hopton Castle. In the stillness the loudness of the cows seems rather eerie as they must be quite a distance away. I hear a few sheep also. There are few lights in the landscape and shape of the hills merge into the evening haze/mist.

The field gives a deep sense of space and openness after the enclosure of the office where I work; the drive here, and the conifers that surround the car park.

At work I am the creator - a place where I form ideas and colours into shapes, patterns and images. It has been a bust few days where demands are made, deadlines created and the need for me to be a creator are expected. The Mac is my tool - taking my thoughts and creating tangible structure. Now I am sitting in my car surrounded by the tall conifers, the gathering darkness and a gentle hush in the trees. Silence, stillness and timelessness are my companions. Now I am in The Created - the creative playful springtime energy of nature. I am now an observer, treading quietly and absorbing the sense of space and creation - within The Created.

I am looking for inspiration, for a language, for a sense of belonging. Thoughts of 'dark' and uncertainty gather but I chase them away. The night can seem scary but yet my mind is slowly adapting to this new place. Tomorrow I will walk out into creation and receive, explore and learn.

Spring 2011

2011-04-10T21:46:00.001+01:00

11 April 2011:

Bees and Bumblebees
Ladybirds
Bluebells beginning to flower in woods
Tulips in the garden, daffodils just past their best
Parsnips, beetroot, carrots, leeks sown in allotment
Spring cabbage and lettuce plants bought and planted
Potatoes in ground a couple of weeks ago
Tomato, courgette, squash, red cabbage, purple sprouting, lettuce and herb seeds sown under cover
White blossom everywhere
Occasional butterflies
Sunburn and hot sunshine
No rain for many weeks
Watering wilting plants and germinating seeds
Meals in garden
Summerhouse too hot
Nettle and bean soup last weekend
Amelanchier in blossom
Need rain to break up soil on allotment

Rocket Stove Casserole

2011-04-10T09:14:00.000+01:00

After a good month or more of dry weather, the past few days have been very warm and sunny. Just right for a bit of garden cooking. I have been wanting to make a Rocket Stove for ages and yesterday was an ideal day. My supplies of waste wood around the garden were dry and a good supply of old bricks was all I needed. The web is awash with images and principles of rocket stoves, so I won't expand here, but basically it was a matter of building a brick 'chimney' with a opening at the base into which wood is fed. The fire draws air though this hole and supposedly burns very efficiently.

Using an old wok I cooked a pork in cider casserole and the stove worked surprisingly well, considering I had never made one or seen one in action before. Keeping it constantly fed meant I had to make quick dashes to the kitchen to prepare the food. Once the bricks had warmed up it seemed to generate quite a reasonable amount of heat and the casserole bubbled away nicely, though I did cover the wok with foil to ensure the meat did cook properly. The design could be made more efficient by sealing in the gaps between the bricks and creating more of a space for ash to accumulate.

Spring Equinox

2011-03-23T22:24:00.000Z

Sage smoke, wafted from glowing embers invites and welcomes. Within the awaiting firelight, in silence we sit, the only voice comes from the pulse of a single drum beat. Beside me are vases of tulips. Although the flower heads have closed in the cold dark air, their presence is a symbol of the energy of spring that is now evident in nature outside. My attention is drawn to the altar beside me and the still sculptured forms of the wood branches with adorning objects that hold intentions and desires. Behind, a weaving of fine artificial blossoms reminds me of oriental art and carries my thoughts to the suffering in Japan.

We await, around fifteen of us, amongst the stones, cushions, flickering light of the burning logs and candles beneath a clear bright moonlit sky that opens out beyond the skylight.

We are a microcosm of hope, peace, community and belonging in a seemingly present troubled world. The energy of spring brings hope and release, but also despair at the news that bites into our lives with tragedy.

As we begin to drum the energy that is released is a sign of our frustration, a need for change and a desire to send intention and prayer.

***

Do I treasure the magic or do I let it go?

The Power Nature

2011-03-12T06:58:00.000Z

The two earthquakes that have struck recently, the first in New Zealand and the second, yesterday, in Japan, are a stark reminder of the energy of creation that exists on our planet. Our lives are too short to fully comprehend the great forces that are at work over the lifespan of the universe. We may ask "Why now?", but when we remember that records may only have been begun to be collected over the past 1-200 years, that timescale is so insignificant when we look at the greater picture. Also, natural disasters are brought more immediately and significantly to our attention these days through the availability of instant global news and personal communication networks.

The fact that the timescales that nature works to and the one we live by day to day are so widely different is probably the reason why so much devastation occurs. Humanity just can't fully realise the greater picture of the energy within the earth at work because it manifests itself outside time of our existence and modern lifestyle expectations. We can easily forget the fragility of life. We have dominance over buildings, technology, computers, energy creation, and food production etc, but yet often fail to see this bigger picture of nature at work

New Allotment Beginnings

2011-03-09T22:00:00.000Z

I took over this half sized plot in December just before the snow and ice covered it. My previous plot was too far away from home, had very poor soil and was prone to flooding. As there is an allotment site just a couple of minutes walk from home I was fortunate enough to get a place there instead. It is run by a lively allotment association which makes it quite a sociable place.

The site hadn't really been dug for a year or so and after a few dry days in January I manged to get the circular path laid out and the ground dug for weathering. The soil seems quite good in one half but it is on a slight incline and further down (away from the camera) it does get very heavy, but that may just be due to a lack of cultivation. It is quite stony and flinty and it may well dry out quickly in the summer but I hope to establish a good ground cover as quickly as I can. The circular path is designed for two reasons. Firstly, so that I can reach most parts of the growing areas without treading on cultivated soil, Secondly, to add a sense of journey and discovery as you walk around the plot. I've built a compost heap at the bottom out of an old pallet and bits of wood I had lying around and I hope to put a seat here as well as this seems to be the place where I often sit and look back up over the plot. The camera was here facing North East.

A few days ago when I took the photo I had just dug over the ground for the second time to clear weeds and break up the heavy clods from the first digging. Ideally I want to keep digging to a minimum to preserve the soil structure and ecology, but it does give me much needed exercise. I've planted quite a lot of onions and also some garlic and some broad beans. The onions seems to be doing well. I got some in a garden centre that were old stock and being sold off cheaply and these seems to be growing well.

My aim this year is to grow sweetcorn, leeks, onions, garlic, broad beans,potatoes, carrots, parsnips and anything else that should be fairly hardy and low maintenance. The space will fill up quickly and I will infill gaps with anything I can find to just see what will grow there. More labour intensive salad crops I will grow at home in the garden so that I can manage them more closely.

Spring Healing

2011-03-08T21:51:00.000Z

It seems a little hard to believe that it feels like Spring already and it is only the beginning of March. The intense cold spell that bit hard in December seems a long time ago. Much of February seemed dull and grey but now the sun has brought clear and warmer days with signs of new life emerging everywhere. I went out for a bike ride a few days ago and saw purple violets, dog's mercury, elder leaves, lots of buds, young nettles...etc. Skylarks were singing too. I even saw a bumble bee last week. The crocuses are well out in the garden and daffodils are out in warmer places.

I've felt a bit out of sorts the past few months but now that I have been out on my new allotment and in the garden and, what with the daylight now significantly longer, I feel much more energised and brighter. I know I suffer from anxiety and this tends to tie my stomach up in knots. It feels pathetic really as I am sure it is just a pshychological reaction to life around me. I'm determined to break though it with personal development skills. I'm sure that much of it is due to the fact that I sit in front of a computer all day and it induces a sort of build up of energy in me that has no-where to go. I was also listening to a podcast the other day all about how unresolved emotional problems can leads to physical symptoms of illness. This feels somehow right to me but I have seen my Doctor about as a precaution (but the pills won't really solve the root cause). I know the body has a huge capacity to heal and restore and I need to work out how to tap into and encourage that process.

Spring is about new birth, energy, creation, light, production, growth, preparation and Cosmic love. I could do with some of that please...!

Must do some more writing - that is all about new birth, energy, creation, light, production, growth, preparation and Cosmic love too.

Worship

2011-02-20T07:58:00.000Z

A passage on worship taken from "The Coming of the Cosmic Christ" by Matthew Fox that I rather liked:

The Cosmic Christ calls us to renewed worship: "Come to me all you who are burdened by lack of praise, lack of beauty, lack of vision in your lives. Look about you at the starry heavens and the deep, deep sea; at the amazing history that has birthed a home for you on this planet; at the surprise and joy of your existence. Gather together-you and your communities-in the context of this great, cosmic community to rejoice and give thanks. To heal and let go. To enter the dark and deep mysteries, to share the news, to break the bread of the universe and drink blood of the cosmos itself in all its divinity. Be brave. Let your worship make you strong and strong again. Never be bored again. Create yourselves, recreate your worlds, by the news you share and the visions you celebrate. Bring your sense of being microcosm in a vast macrocosm; bring your bodies; bring your play; bring you darkness and your pain. Gather and do not scatter. Learn not to take for granted and learn this together. Become a people. Worship together".

Cathedral of Trees; Voices

2011-02-16T22:09:00.001Z

On 5 February I drove up from Bedfordshire to Herefordshire and unexpectedly arrived at Croft Castle with about an hour of daylight left and so walked up onto Croft Ambrey. I wrote the following in my sketchpad and then didn't find the space to write it up until over a week later with a few embellishments:

The wind is warm, such a contrast to the bitterness of December's snow and ice, and strong too. Several trees had recently been uprooted in nearby Fishpool Valley. The path before me is sheltered from the roar of the windswept hillside and the waves within the tall conifers around me. This is a cathedral, a cathedral of trees. Tall, straight and skyward - towering above me like the pillars and walls of a large open place of worship. The path is the nave and beside me are the pews of rusting bracken and tangled dormant brambles. I come across a volume of space where the trees open outwards and paths cross. It holds my presence and awaits my prayers. Slowly I walk, mindful and aware of the imminent gathering darkness but also the loneliness of my presence. The path is worn by many, but only my pilgrimage is now present. I welcome my self to this place and ask to receive something. Ahead of me is the high altar of the hill top and here I lie in a sheltered place and look out over the valley below. The greyness of the clouds and the winter evening is punctuated buy the brightness of distant lights. I find peace in the wind here and return to the real me, with a voice and a song of worship - worship to the land and the spirit of the landscape that energises me.

I was drumming in a yurt with friends last night and thinking about voices: the voice of the wind in the trees above the yurt that I could watch swaying though the skylight; the voice of the logs burning in the fire; the voices of people sharing; the voices of our drums; the voice of the space itself; and the voice of silence.

Here on the hillside I realise that my pilgrimage is about finding a voice. Finding a voice with which I can communicate with spirit, a voice for me to stand up and be something or say something. I pray for a voice - a voice that can communicate and that can inspire. I think that a lot of my anxiety comes from a fear of what people will think of me and I feel that my spirituality must make me perfect -and it doesn't. Yet nature produces all - all is unique and has value. I feel I have no voice, no significant tale to tell, a voice that is becoming harder to find as I get older - and energy is drained away by work, and hours in front of a computer screen.

I pray for a voice. A voice that will reflect freedom. A voice that will call out into darkness like the owls I can hear in the trees. The landscape has a strong voice today. It has called me here today. The energy of the wind brings conversation, whispers, arguments and laughter. I pray I might be likewise inspired.

An Uphill Struggle

2011-02-16T21:20:00.003Z

I am really struggling to find continued reality, realism and authenticity in the day to day outworking of my faith. Why should I bother I often ask myself? I find conflict stressful and yet all through my readings and exploration of my Christian journey I find inescapable conflict between ideas and expressions of belief and faith. My mind struggles to cope with it and I feel I am loosing touch with a sense of belonging. Amidst the life I now lead I feel more withdrawn into an isolated and dwindling sense of the spiritual. I miss church life hugely, but I don't know how to fit back in, I don't want to be in a strongly evangelical expression of the Christian faith. If I am to continue, I must find a way to break down this psychological wall that seems to be being built around me. Otherwise I just feel like giving up and letting life just happen around me. I don't want to do that and yet I can get overwhelmed by it all and the excitement I feel when I do think about things.

I am re-reading "The Cosmic Christ" by Matthew Fox. I love his writings and his viewpoint has helped me a great deal on my faith journey. I don't know if they are totally theologically sound, but they are a great source of inspiration.

Mysticism

2010-12-19T22:10:00.002Z

Brief paraphase of articles from the website The Wild Things of God which I came across recently and I liked the style of writing. The end indented paragraphs are directly copied text as it was getting too laborious for me to rework them into my own words.

Mysticism - a spirituality of the direct experience of God. It is a knowing, not a belief, and marked by love and joy but not an emotional experience. Marriage of the soul to Christ just as Jesus and God are one. The mystic should be as fully permeated with Christ as God is being fully human and fully divine (by the grace of God). It isn't all about experiences which can come and go but on the lasting experience of God. The believer is transformed into a union with God (via Transformativa?)

The Bible was written by mystics. How can you read it without preconceived perceptions of language, culture. personal history?

We need to have a religion not about Jesus. but OF Jesus - of his knowledge and unconditional love.

Mysticism is about unconditional love - and that could apply to anyone. (1Jn 4:7)

When Jesus declares "I and the Father are one" (Jn 10.30) - in himself is the union of God and humankind - offered to all.

Starting point for mysticism is encountering the Goodness of God - not a conditional 'goodness' but pure Goodness. (Original Blessing, Cosmic Goodness...) Few of us are able to see the infinite goodness around us... (ongoing Divine Creative energy) What has happened?

We need to be as children - v. mystical.

We have been told to accept the contradiction of God is infinite love vs eternal torture in Hell. So we believe it is conditional of our: salvation, works, prayer .... . Dichotomy of heart and head: child's faith in absolute goodness vs adult awareness, intelligence and incompetence.

Let go, let God.

Beware of pride, fear and holding on to experiences. Also loneliness - and a narrow path (I know it all too well)

The idea that God is love but will also torment those who do not accept Jesus is an impossible contradiction and erronness misunderstanding of the gospel. How could a Father punish his children endlessly? It is pointless as it accepts no rehabilitation or healing.

Greek word for 'Eternal' means 'Age' - indefinite but not infinite. God's eternity is not described in the Bible. True eternity = absence of time. ie is part of creation, but God transcends time. God is in time, but he is over time. God is not eternal, he is eternity. To God there is nothing but the NOW.

"Consider this: did you really know what you were doing when you accepted Jesus? How can anyone know what they are really doing in rejecting him, or more accurately, what they perceive to be him? We don't. Forgiveness has been proclaimed."

"Literally dozens of passages of Scripture say that salvation will be universal. All mankind, even all creation, will be saved. The hills shall jump for joy, the trees clap their hands, the lion and lamb lie down together. The rocks and stones will sing praises."

"Does Salvation Mean "Knowing Jesus?"

No. The teaching that Jesus is the only path to salvation, contradicts the teachings of Jesus himself. In the three earlier Synoptic gospels, Jesus never suggests "believing in him" is the criterion for salvation. In fact, Jesus warns that it is not those who call him "Lord," who will enter heaven, but those who live the Kingdom life of love! (Mt. 7.21) In the Judgment scene in Mt. 25.31-46, (far and away the most detailed description of judgment in the Bible), Jesus says that those who do good works, creating a better world for the "least of his brothers," actually do it for him whether they know it or not, and will be blessed with his Presence, while those who do not will suffer "burning" in the age-long fire which we've already discussed. Throughout these first three gospels, Jesus doesn't even care if anyone "knows" him or has "a personal relationship" with him! He cares instead that people embrace his teaching—Good News—that the Kingdom of heaven is here, that God is "Father," that in embracing selfless love, we lose our false self, but gain the whole world.

On the other hand, the later gospel of John presents Jesus as the "Cosmic Christ," who is one with the Father, and called "Word", "Light", "Water of Life", and "the Way." The emphasis has shifted from the teaching to the Teacher, in light of his embodiment of the love of God. This Love is called Christ. When Jesus says, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life, no one comes to the Father except by me," (Jn 14:6) he is speaking of his nature as the love of God made visible. It is only by being filled with Divine Love that we can "come to the Father." By whatever name it is given by followers of whatever religion or no religion, it is the same, and it is "the narrow gate" through which all must come. The human identity of its bearer is not what's important; the essential thing is following his example in loving unconditionally, becoming Christ. As he said: This is my commandment, love one another as I have loved you. (Jn.15.12)

Many passages in the apostles' writings at first glance suggest that belief in Jesus is essential. But the Bible never records the apostles using a threat of "damnation" for not accepting the Gospel. Paul's voice speaks especially strongly about universal salvation. Yet Paul also presents Jesus as the "necessary sacrifice" for sin, implying belief in him is mandatory. The reason for this is found in his letters, where he repeatedly explains his dual mission of presenting the Good News to both the Jews and the Gentiles, and adjusting his message to his audiences, "becoming all things to all men." (1 Cor. 9.19-23). His Jewish audiences demanded to know how sacrifice fits into this message, and so, Paul presents Jesus as the only sacrifice needed, the fulfillment of the Law. To Gentiles, he presents the cosmic Christ, "the love of God made visible," (Rm. 8.39) reconciling all things in heaven and earth to the Father through selfless love. (Eph. 1.10-11). "

"The Gospel of John reveals the "Cosmic Christ," that is, Christ is identified not only as Jesus on earth, but as the whole creative and redemptive movement of God throughout space and time. Thus, Christ is the Word which brings everything into existence (1:2-3), the Light that enlightens all humanity, (1:9) the Bread of God that sustains all life, (6:33) and much more."

"Panentheism and Christian Mystical Spirituality:

Most great truths of Christian faith, and perhaps most great truths, period, are expressed as paradox. God is completely One, and yet, Triune and Infinite. Jesus is fully and completely human, but fully divine, as well. Panentheism presents another one: God is completely transcendent, and yet, immanent throughout his Creation. Like the mysteries of Trinity and Incarnation, panentheism is an ancient theological realization.

The Greek Church Fathers referred to the transcendence of God as God's "essence" (ousia) and the immanence of God as his "energies" (energeia). In 553, at the Second Council of Constantinople, the universal Church proclaimed a panentheistic vision of the Trinity, developed from St. Paul's writing in Ephesians: "There is One God and Father from whom all things are, one Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things are, and one Holy Spirit in whom all things are." God is in all things, for they spring from him, and all things are in God, for they subsist in him, yet he transcends all as well as emanates in all. "

Panentheism and other God-views:

Panentheism offers the potential for greater dialogue and communication between Christians and those of other views. Other religions share with Christianity this apprehension of the simultaneous beyondness and hereness of the Ultimate as well, even though they use different terms. Buddhism, for instance, speaks of "the Unmade," "the Unconditioned", "the Void"-that which is beyond all concepts on the one hand, but of "Buddha-nature" the divine potential immanent within all "sentient beings," on the other.

Furthermore, many people who call themselves atheists or agnostics actually are not; many have a strong sense of a spiritual dimension, but simply find the images of a "personal God" an intellectual hurdle. Often this is because of misunderstandings brought about by poorly communicated concepts of a very man-like God (though with extraordinary powers) somewhere "up above," reacting with wild emotions to events in the world. These simplistic images have offended countless people from believing in God, and countless more from being able to trust him deeply. So millions of Christians find themselves adults with dissonant, childish (and often threatening) images of God, and millions of non-religious people have only seen such images and rightly reject them.

The panentheism of the Bible is quite different: it certainly presents God as relating to persons and thus "personal," but also as infinitely beyond personality. To communicate God's infinity, the Bible describes God in many non-personal images as well. Consider a few: Spirit,(Jn 4.24) Sun, (Mal 3:20) Word, (Jn 1:1) Rock, (1Cor 10:4) Fire, (Heb 12:29) Light, (1 Jn 1:5) Waters of Life, (Rev 21.1) Wisdom, (Pr 1.20) and Love. (1 Jn 4:8) Perhaps we should keep in mind that God's "person"-ality is also a metaphor, for (he? she? it? all pronouns fail when contemplating this magnificence!) is as infinitely beyond being a "person" in the traditional sense as the One who created light is beyond being light.

No view of God is larger than the panentheistic view. All other theisms (deism, theism, polytheism, animism, pantheism, atheism) are fragmented theologies compared to panentheism. This is the ground for an inexhaustible faith-that God is present right now, in every cell of our bodies, in every beat of our hearts, in every person, in every star, in every loving thought, birthing every particle of every atom of the entire Creation into a constant stream of existence, the invisible Nothing and Nowhere that brings forth Everything and Everywhere. God in all things and all things in God invites wonder, and wonder invites all to touch God.

Beliefs are not Reality

It's essential to remember that all of these ideas are metaphors. Doctrines, words, concepts, thoughts and pictures all translate, emphasize, reflect, and otherwise point to reality. But no description of reality is the reality it describes. Words and pictures, ideas and doctrines, are not the things they point to. They are distorted indicators, utterly different in kind from what they point to. You can describe a tree in your backyard to me all day long, but until I touch it with my own hands, I can't feel its bark. If description can't communicate the tree-ness of a tree, how much less can words communicate God!

This is important! Challenging ideas are often vital for breaking up entrenched thought patterns and opening the mind. Yet no concept, no matter how inspirational, is that divine reality we seek, anymore than Magritte's pipe is something you can pick up and smoke.

We need to remember that God is the name we use for the Unspeakable. Simply put, the Source of everything is beyond all names. The “Trinity” is a conception of how the Infinite One relates to the phenomenal world of beings, matter, and time, which we call Creation. “The Fall from grace” is another. Other religions have their concepts as well—lila, nirvana, maya. But to latch on to any one of these as “the Truth ” instead of a helpful pointer to truth, is to miss the point entirely! It's like several people pointing to that tree in the backyard and arguing whether the tree has three parts or fifteen parts—or arguing if the leaves are dark green, forest green, or olive.

God cannot be divided. God simply is. The Universe simply is. What is simply is. All our thoughts and concepts divide Is-ness in our minds, and divide our minds from Is-ness.

Awakening is the transition from "religion" with its firm answers, perspectives, and experiences, to realization, the awareness of what IS. Even more important is “Real-ization,” the embodiment of that awareness. The important things in mysticism are not concepts, thoughts, feelings, or even experiences, but the questions and questing for nothing else but this One we call God. Beliefs—in the sense of concepts which must be protected, are not part of Christian mystical life. In this sense, you must not “believe” in God. Instead, just rest in Being. And in being, and being with Being, you rest with God, the Ground of Being. Don't “believe” in the Trinity. Trust the holy and wholly indescribable Reality in whom you “live, move, and have your being”.

The Greek word pisteo is almost always translated “belief” or “faith” in the New Testament. However, it also means trust and is better translated as such. Dare to move from belief to trust.

Slowly, joyfully, lovingly, destroy your concepts and mental images into the burning furnace of just being with the One. Just love what is, seen and unseen. Don't name it. Don't label it. Don't even think about it. Just do what Jesus said: Come as a child.

Green Lane

2010-12-12T22:00:00.004Z

Sunday 12 December and a short weekend visit to Herefordshire

I haven't walked up the road from Titley to Green Lane Farm before. The darkness and starlit sky is gradually giving way to the just perceptible and gentle brightening on the distant horizon. Beneath me the frost covers the cold ground and the road is a touch icy. I climb up the side of the valley between the tall hedgerows and turn west along the Mortimer Trail that follows the top of the hill towards Burnt House, a place I have been to many times before.

It has been a good year and a half or more since I have walked up here and the farming landscape has changed dramatically. A large new farm sits on the hilltop where once there was just pasture; ancient hedgerows have been cut back and replanted and now fields of frosted fodder beet (?) covered the hillside and were being grazed by at least 200+ cattle kept in check by long lengths of electric fences. Around the edges of many of the fields long rows of pale blue round wrapped silage bales in a pattern that seem to reflect the technical planting of conifers just on the other side of the valley. Rather incongruous to the natural landscape. But there is nothing 'natural' here as even the old hedges would have once been laid by hand and Green Lane itself the result of landowners gone by. The woodland was probably managed significantly in the past; the old farmstead at Burnt House must have been a significant dwelling and the quarry further up hillside a source of much stone and activity.

The peace and beauty of the hill here is incredible. The sun is now pouring golden light upon the cold landscape from a cloudless blue sky and yet the valley down below on the northern escarpment between Knill and Presteigne and beyond on is a sea of impenetrable mist. This is a welcome break from the very cold snowy, dark and freezing weather of a week or so ago. This is a time of brightness, refreshment, and re-energising.

I stand against a tree near the old barn and could easily fall into a melancholic flow of nostalgia about the house that must have stood here and the farmers who lived and worked in this isolated but beautiful location. Instead I just try and listen to the landcape - the squirrels rushing about from tree to tree; the robin that flits cautiously in the hedgerow nearby and the occasional flock of starlings (possibly) that can be heard 'brushing' through the air from field to field - perhaps attracted by the nearby cattle. Later, when I pass back by here I am sure I hear a flock of long-tailed tits not far away.

It was too cold to sit down and write on the spot and I was a little short of time to do so anyway. But the place gave me the inspiration to at least write something when I returned back home to Bedfordshire later in the day. I feel I am loosing the flow of writing and would like to return to discover its power, wisdom, creativity, sense of exploration and exercise of the mind.

Roots

2010-11-21T22:06:00.001Z

Reflections on a church Sermon and Nehemiah

How do groups of people find belonging? What motivates and drives them to follow a particular action, thought, philosophy, religion or idea? What then happens when they get dislocated, lost or separated from their homes or lives?

My continuing 'sabbatical' from church life is hard as I haven't found another group of people with whom sharing, fellowship, identity and a sense of belonging is strong enough to draw me into their presence. The group of people that is 'church' generates a very strong place of belonging.

Establishing a spiritual community: in church, Truth lies the Bible. Truth here lies in an external paternal God - an external 'being' beyond people. God always seems to be sensed as outside the human body, outside the soul and this could also equate to how nature is viewed and related to. It is an external entity that may have no connection with our lives and who we are. The gap has be bridged in a spiritual sense. Worship in church seems to send praise outward- an external projection of desire, love, intention and conviction. What I am getting at in a rather unsuccessful way is my trying to reconcile a perceived outward direction of worship with my inward/ self-existing within God sort of belief. Something doesn't sit comfortably with me and I can't explain it neatly here.

Fundamental Truth in God would probably be the same as a fundamental Truth in Nature from a eco-theologoical view. There is no separation between the two. Panentheism.

Remember your ancient roots. The roots of Christian worship would have been the original sharing of the bread and wine. Honouring ancesters and their way of doing things. What past foundations do you use as a basis for your life? What identities do you base your faith upon? What is the story in which you find yourself?

"We are all sinners". Must read Original Blessing again - the concept of original sin sits uncomfortably with me. It brings forth a good/bad duality that seems to enhance my feelings of unworthiness, self-annihilation and fragility in the face of perceived superiority/strength. We need redemption from the sin of Original Sin!

Feast of tabernacles - living in tents for a week. A symbol of transition, temporality, the mortal, journeying, using resources wisely, low consumption etc. Very pagan and green. Images of shelters made from branches in woodland came to mind and my 'pilgrimages' I make to Herefordshire to camp out in the wild and find a place of renewal and belonging.w

Up on Clun Forest

2010-10-30T20:03:00.004Z

Last weekend I made a trip to Clun Forest right on the Welsh/Shropshire border. I had hoped to spend the time doing more writing than I did as I had planned it as a sort of retreat and a re-energising of my spirit. However, as usual, my precious time away whizzed by and it was easier just to enjoy the presence of being there rather than force anything that didn't want to flow. Here are some notes I made at the time with reflections added upon their write up. I wasn't going to write them up, but I am forcing myself to do so.

It is Friday evening, about 6.45pm and I am up in Clun Forest. I took the afternoon off work and about three and a half hours later I am overlooking the hills and valleys to the north west of Clun. It took me a while to decide where to park the car. It was a bit windy and the forestry tracks seemed to be well used by a variety of visitors and so finding a sheltered and 'safe' place was a priority. I found a place that felt right and cooked a small tin of stew and new potatoes on my gas stove.

Although breezy, it wasn't too cold. It was cloudy with patches of occasional sunshine. The views north were good with distant grey rain showers shrouding patches of the landscape. The last time I came up here was with my Father and that was the last time I would be with him. I remember the fine clear day gave us views right into the farthest distance and we were wondering if we could see Cadair Idris in North Wales.

As I write my notes the sky is clearing a little and the initial hazy moon is now bright in the clearing sky. It must be a full moon about now. The wind is still strong in the tall conifers beside me and I am sheltering in the car to preserve as much of my body warmth as possible. I can almost write by the moonlight, it seems so bright.

I haven't written much formally on this blog for many months though I have tried to get back into journalling. However, writing for 30 to 45 minutes a day is hard work and very time consuming. My mind seems to have wandered away from so much of my 'greenary'. Perhaps it is because work is so much more challenging and taking fulfilling many of my creative needs and energy. Also, I haven't been in places where I have been truly inspired. 'Nature time' seems more rushed and precious these days and the demands of everyday life seem to have taken over. Somehow I feel rather disconnected - and particularly after my permaculture course too, which is a bit odd. A reinforcement of green and ecological thoughts and values seems to have overloaded me and I've had to step back from it all. Bit bizarre and I'm not too sure where I am going... I hope that this weekend will be a turning point but I know I can't force anything - and I am on my own anyway.

I go for a walk. I forget how light it can be when the moon is out. I pass some trees and notice the different sounds that the wind makes in different trees. Conifers give a high pitched whooshing; beeches have a frenetic rustling of leaves; whilst some plain leafless trees in the hedgerow give an almost deep drumming sound.

A large aluminium foil baking tray makes an ideal small fireplace for me and I soon succeed in getting a small fire burning with some charcoal and a few small sticks. I am amazed at how much heat even a small fire gives out and I feel quiet cosy sitting beside it even though the wind is quite gusty. As the flames die to leave the constant changing patterns of the glowing embers in the breeze reflects the cloud moving in front of the moon. Always changing, always creating new patterns.

A group of people walk past - a couple of adults and a few children. Hmm, quite a busy yet isolated spot!

My bike had to sleep in the undergrowth whilst I lay in the car (I'd left the back seats at home). It rained quite heavily in the night and I did manage a few hours sleep. I awoke fully at around 5am with moonlight streaming in to the car. I got up shortly afterwards and went for a walk eastwards along the Kerry Ridgeway. It was wonderful to be out walking by moonlight and looking northwards in the valley towards Montgomery. I enjoyed just walking slowly, knowing that it wouldn't be getting light for a good hour and a half or so. I could thus just 'be', listen to the landscape around me and know there was no need to rush the walk for any reason. The shapes of the trees and the moon produced many wonderful silhouettes and long shadows. I did a good circular walk of perhaps three miles or so and arrived back at the car just as daylight was flooding the hill around me.

I moved the car round to the other side of the hill for breakfast. The wind had died down and I now overlooked the hills to the south west. The sun lit landscape was full of autumn colours and sparkling raindrops coated coated all the grasses after the night's rain. A flock of redshanks (or some other waders) shared a nearby bit of moorland with some sheep.

I went for a superb bike ride this morning. I followed the forest road westwards along the Kerry Ridgeway then dropped down to Anchor. then headed southwest along the ridge of Black Mountain towards Clun, but turned down to Newcastle before a very steep climb back up onto Clun Forest and the car. It was probably around 15 miles or so and actually felt quite an easy ride, but then I did get off and push the bike down or up the very steep hills. Views were superb in the clear autumn sunshine and the coolness of the morning did make it a very pleasant cycling experience.

In the afternoon I drove on to Black Hill just south east of Clun for a walk and then on the Sunday morning I climbed up onto Croft Ambrey. Again this was another warm and bright sunny day with excellent autumn colours and views. It was just good to be out o both days getting some long needed exercise and fresh air. I have felt a bit bogged down recently and here was a rare opportunity to just get out and cycle and walk.

Drumming on the Hills

2010-07-03T06:32:00.002+01:00

The past few weeks of beautiful warm summer sunshine has enticed me out to various locations with my drum. In early June I travelled up to Croft Ambrey (in Herefordshire) after work in the hope of watching the sunset over the Welsh hills. I didn't quite manage to get there on time, but I was rewarded with a wonderfully warm and quiet period of space up on the hill top. The May blossom on the various hawthorns on the hillside was superb and as the evening light faded I had a very peaceful, yet expressive time in the landscape I love so much.

Last weekend I happened to be awake at about 3.15am on a restless night and decided that this would be a good opportunity to go and watch the sunrise on the Pegsdon Hills near Hitchin. Not being sure at what time sunrise was, I wasn't too sure I would get there on time as it was already getting light. I strapped my drum to the back of my bike and cycled off through the country lanes, with the moon watching me, and up the hill above Pegsdon. It was a tiny bit chilly, the sky was clear of coud and the views were superb. I found a space to sit just sheltered from the cool breeze and at that moment the bright orange sun just began to emerge from the haze on the distant horizon. I think it was about 4.55am. My drum wasn't really in the mood for playing - being a bit flat in the cold and dampness of the early dawn.

Where have I been?

2010-06-23T22:19:00.003+01:00

Here I am in the middle of June and this blog seems so distant to me. I have written so little this year because my energy seems to need to be directed elsewhere.

Work is thoroughly rewarding and challenging and I do enjoy it but it has been demanding and it has taken me a while to settle into the new working environment from a psychological point of view. It has been mentally tiring at times and settling into a balance is taking time. My hands have been troubled with RSI and I am having to work hard with self-physiotherapy to calm things down. This has meant that I have been unwilling to use my hands for typing at home. Thankfully, I am now much better and none of my work has been affected.

Much to my annoyance, I also seem to have been afflicted with periods of deep anxiety and I am hopefully overcoming this with exercise, meditation and self-awareness exercises. It all seems pathetic really as all I am doing is well within my ability but, again, I feel as though I am trying to find a balance.

My back went on me a few weeks ago and so I am trying to get that back in order too.

This seems to have been a Spring of readjustment and mental struggle to the new situation in which I find myself.

My Permaculture Course is superb and I now have only one more weekend in July to complete.

The vegetables in the garden are doing well but I am not sure if I will continue with the allotment as I can't put much effort into it. The garden is easy to micro-manage whereas the allotment is a small drive away and not quite so easy to visit. I will re-evaluate it at the end of the year.

I've been out with my drum to various locations: a drumming group, the hills of Herefordshire, my permaculture course and the garden summerhouse.

Blessings.

Reflection on creative thought

2010-04-06T21:39:00.003Z

At last the evenings have been getting warmer and, although still a little on the chilly side, I have managed to spend an hour in the summerhouse tonight without shivvering. With a candle, drum and some newly acquired 'Ceridwen'incense I felt able to relax and draw upon some deeply needed inspiration.

I've written a few things in my sketchpad over the past few weeks that somehow haven't made it to this blog. I don't think I have been deeply inspired which feels a little strange perhaps as Spring is beginning to arise all around me. The winter has been long and cold but now the maiden of spring is dancing over the landscape and things are bursting forth - or something like that! It may be because I have started a new job and all the energy and focus that I had to plough into my previous 'existence' is now having a rest and my soul work is taking a back seat whilst I just get on with walking my new path. I'm able to relax a little now in that sense and yet would very much like to redirect my spirtual nature into its new framework and look for a new direction.

I pray for clarity of thought and the ability to just get my brain thinking about things and being more creative. Often it just seems to clog up and stall and can't grasp even simple things or think clearly. Perhaps I am just getting older and need to develop exercises to just unlock more exploratory and creative thinking. Perhaps I need to dig out "The Artists Way" again and do some more daily journalling. It is just discipline though snd creating space in the day to do it. Or perhaps I should develop somthing else; or do more exercise, drink less coffee....

Principles of Permaculture

2010-03-26T21:09:00.002Z

I have begun my Permaculture Design course which will last for six weekends from now until July.

In the first introductory weekend I learnt about 12 principles of Permaculture which can be applied to any system - ecological, horticultural or social:

Integrate rather than segregate

Observe and Interact

Use small and slow solutions

Design from patterns to details

Apply self-regulation and accept feedback

Use and value renewable resourcesd and services

Use edges and value the marginal

Obtain a yield

Use and value diversity

Produce no waste

Creatively use and respond to change

New Job

2010-03-24T21:52:00.003Z

I am now almost two weeks into my new job and have so far not regretted moving one bit. Leaving my old work place was very hard because, I think, it was like leaving a small and dark cardboard box in which I had been encased for too long. I had become very emotionally attached to the the people there which was probably some sort of survival mechanism. I know that I had been in that place for a reason: either to learn something new, to be a stepping stone to further my career or perhaps something more subtle - to influence or change something or someone in some way (or to be changed or influenced). I believe there was spiritual reason for me to be in that place but now I almost feel as though I have been released from the rather strange energy that held me there until a few weeks ago.

My new workplace is full of a new and vibrant energy and I am still rather amazed at why I have found myself in such a creative, friendly and welcoming environment. Things may change: there will be challenging work situations and the pressure to be creative and meet deadlines will be tough at times but I feel confident I can grow and be part of the team there. I am surrounded by many very talented designers and illustrators and, as I am always a bit modest about my talents, I can find that a bit overwhelming. I am a bit of a Jack of All Trades when it comes to design and never quite know where I fit.

One of the hardest things to get used to is that I have more free time in the day. I can leave home half an hour later in morning and I get half an hour more at lunchtime. What is also rather pleasant is that there are some footpaths around where I work so I can get out into some fields or parkland and get more exercise and fresh air during the day.

Hopton Titterhill and Black Hill: Part 4

2010-03-09T07:52:00.003Z

Saturday 6 March 2010
I walk into the valley. I climb down the very steep hillside through the discarded wood and tree stumps of the felled trees to the tiny stream that I can hear way below me. Its source can't be far away, the hilltop rises above me up a narrow and steep-sided valley. A gentle trickle of water, bubbling and gurgling over the shale. I put a hand into the water. it is cold. I cup my hand and lift some water to taste it. It feels soft and smooth with a string earthy taste. I don't swallow it.

It is sheltered down here aware from the cool breeze of the hilltop. The stream is a source of life and energy in the valley. Flowing, following its course, a habitat for the stream-side saxifrages and the damp loving loving mosses that encase the overhanging trees.

What is the central stream that flows through me and my life? What nourishes and sustains me? In this valley is a persistent yet delicate stream- so easily changed by the weather and other environmental or human factors. Yet its function is to carry water through the valley safely. I must take care of the stream in my life. And the sound is continuous, no ebb and flow like the wind. The stream is. It does what is has to do. It is strong and unstoppable. It has to be or else land would flood. It has a continuous physical dynamic to outwork: to flow downhill.

I now have to leave this place and do other things. This has been a a day for writing, for looking at the landscape around me and for framing the big changes that are occurring in my life.

Thank you for this day.

Hopton Titterhill and Black Hill: Part 3

2010-03-09T07:51:00.002Z

Saturday 6 March 2010
Landscape. How I love that word. It is a word I use a lot in the context of my journeying and the environment that is laid out for me in my daily walk through life. I'm up on Black Hill now, just a couple of miles from Hopton Titterhill, and looking westwards. Before me is the wonderful hilly landscape of the Welsh borderland between Knighton and Clun. The sun has penetrated the hazy clouds in a few places, otherwise the light is subdued and shadowless. Today I am just going where I feel lead, no distinct plan of action as such. Now I am sitting by the roadside overlooking a revealed valley. Only since a year or so ago has this view been seen once again after many years of being obscured by a tall conifer plantation. The conifers have been felled and now the view has returned again and I could sit here for hours.

What does this view have to tell me about my journey? Revealing, or revelation. Something that was hidden for a long time but which can now be seen. It used to be there in one form or another - before the conifers were planted. Perhaps the view that I see of my life was also, too visible, once a time ago. A momentary glint in the eye of the Divine that set my life alive in the knowledge that it would, one day, be revealed. Now this phase in my life is opening up and I admire the view.

The sound of the wingbeat of a crow brushes across the hillside. A buzzard calls, far below me. I am on the edge of a view - at a vantage point. I am not in the view itself, that will come later.

The earth is still quite dormant and there are still tiny patches of snow in sheltered hedgerow edges. The valley has yet to wake up to the full energy of spring. Perhaps the biggest challenge I will face in my new job is that of dealing with different and more varied people once again. What can my view tell me about how I should relate to the new people I am about to meet?

Peace: hold your peace and know your own confidence and belonging.
Difference: everyone is different. Nature is diverse. It can be good, it can be cruel. Co-existance is a key to survival.
Sounds: just listen, and don't interfere with the balance of what is before you. Think before you upset the balance.
Creativity: is part of the natural energy of nature.
Light: and therefore energy, will come and go. Some days may be pale and shadowless, others will be bright and full of contrast.

Hopton Titterhill and Black Hill: Part 2

2010-03-09T07:49:00.002Z

Saturday 6 March 2010
The early morning light reveals a cloudy sky but touches of salmon cumulous where the sun highlights their form. Beautiful, not human sound, just birdsong and the occasional bleating sheep. The peace of this place is awe-inspiring. The dry morning air is clear as I look out form my vantage point of a pile of fragrant newly sawn pine logs down over a valley and on towards Stow Hill. There is a hint in the clouds that reveals a blueness that might promise sunshine later in the day. The air has a gentle cool breeze that moves only the very most delicate of grasses and cobwebs.

From the darkness of last night I am now venturing into the light - with a slow walk up to the top of Hopton Titterhill. This one viewpoint captures my imagination and I watch as the morning light on the hills before me constantly changes the landscape.

I sit in my stillness, trying to focus my thoughts away from the events of the past weeks. Small patches of yellow-gold sunlight make fleeting visits to the hillside just below me - not to any other hill, but to my hill. They last for only a minute or so then disappear, but their light brings colour and warmth to the greyness of the winter landscape.

Hopton Titterhill and Black Hill: Part 1

2010-03-09T07:47:00.001Z

Friday 5 March 2010

It has taken me nearly 5 hours to drive to Hopton Titterhill in South Shropshire. After busy Friday evening traffic, roadworks on the M1 and at Warwick, a stop at a service station and a generally steady, unrushed and hopefully petrol efficient drive I have finally made it. It is around half past midnight. A cloudy sky means that I can't see any stars but at least it means that the temperature will not get too near freezing tonight. I don't really want to sleep in the car when it is that cold.

A cool breeze gently waves through the tress on the hillside around me and the candle flame flickers wildly in its glass holder. At least it is dry and the wooden bench here feels welcoming. I've been looking forward to meeting it for several days and it is good to be back here again at night. The car park is well sheltered from the wind and I don't feel too cold.

Alone; with my drawing pad, pen and a candle. Just Being in this darkness that awaits the new dawn and my welcome to the landscape.

Today was my last day at my current work. Last week was an anxious time as I handed in my notice and, fortunately, this past week has passed by fairly quietly in the sense of 'if that is what he wants to do then so be it'. I can hardly believe it has happened. Now it is time to put the past three years to one side and begin a new path on my journey.

It feels strange to now be at this table. In the flickering candlelight I am surrounded by dense blackness and I can't make out anything of what is around me. The candle just lights me and my immediate surroundings. A long period of waiting and patience has passed by. I remember the kestrel I wrote about last year and how I distinctly felt it was giving me that word: patience. Now I am in the darkness of leaving. Just a candle flame to light me. Just the thought of the new light that will enter my life tomorrow. I have reached the edge - and now darkness. Almost death: the ultimate change. Here I am, dying to the old and awaiting the resurrection. I am in nature's womb - forming, changing, anticipating. The heartbeat of the candle burning to keep me alive and focused. The darkness around me reaches into the trees, into the sky and into the earth. I cannot see out of my womb, I can only hear the environment around me. I can feel it, through the firmness of the earth beneath my feet and the touch of the breeze upon my cheeks. I can smell the soil and the pine trees. Yet I can see nothing. Like my new job, I only have thoughts and ideas that play with the senses. I didn't bring my drum with me as it doesn't like the cold. Perhaps I should have done. An owl hoots in the woodland a distance away.

I look around, away from the candle light and it isn't ever really truly dark. The tress are just perceptively silhouetted against the grey sky. It is a touch windy and I can hear leaves rustling along the ground and occasionally the pages of my pad get lifted up. I must be careful not to get too cold. A new day awaits.

Change

2010-02-28T21:09:00.003Z

I have just handed in my notice at work - as I mentioned in my previous blog. It has been a very emotional time. Three things were hard: having been there for three years and only giving my contractual week's notice was not easy; trying to find a way through the politics and management views of my going to a competitor; and having to leave some dear work colleagues to pick up the pieces.

It has been easy for me to loose track of the big picture view that here I am embarking on a new stage in my life's journey. It has been my decision to take this step. I pushed on a door and it opened before me. It is like beginning a walk into a new landscape. I am unsure of what I will find. I have an overall view around me, but what I will find at the level of detail I am unsure. It is a risk and I just pray that this initiation of stepping out of my comfort zone will bring the experience and maturity I need. I wish I could leave my current employer on a totally positive note, but I know that to loose a (hopefully) respected member of staff in challenging business times will not be too favourable for them.

I pray for strength and peace in the next few days as Change becomes my very real and close companion.

A Skylark Sings...

2010-02-26T21:03:00.003Z

Another fall of snow subtly covers the high ground of the Pegsdon hills. It isn't too cold and although the sky is overcast northwards, on the flatter plain, patches of sunlight brighten the cold winter landscape. A skylark sings unseen in the bleakness. In a vaguely sheltered spot, sitting on a log, I look out at the landscape below me - tired of the long cold winter and dormant nature.

The landscape and I, we both seem to be waiting. Darkness, cold and uncertainty keep close and energy seems hidden and tired. Yet, possibly, change is waiting to greet us when the time is right and the spirit awakes. There may be, yet, unwelcome moments of cold - like this snow - that brings fear, uncertainty and hardship for all. But something is waiting, gathering momentum, gathering energy and awaiting an outworking.

I seem to be following the season of winter closely. I has been a long, dark and cold. I haven't written for several months as somehow my thoughts have been focused elsewhere. But although I have not written, I know that I have been carrying the spirit that is contained within my writing. It feels as though the learning effort that has journeyed with me through my blog is now carrying me though my landscape and into a new place.

I pray for continued blessing and deep wisdom as I travel along my path. The spring landscape is there before me, waiting.

The skylark sings unseen in the bleakness.

* * * * *

This was written a few days ago. Today I handed in my notice to my employer and will start a new job in a few weeks time. It is a very anxious and emotionally challenging time for me. It is about taking risks. I am having to say goodbye to the familiar, to close work colleagues and to a job that I have enjoyed very much. I have decided to move on with the main aim of personal development. Moving on is a risk, but so is staying put. I decided that I could no longer be complacent about my work environment and need to be proactive to seek continued development.

I remember in the autumn of 2008 specifically praying around a campfire with my drum for change. I often feel that things move slowly for me - cycles of a year seem to crop up. Now just over a year and bit later, I am now seeing the fruits of that prayer - so I believe.

The landscape is calling to me

2009-12-26T21:55:00.001Z

The landscape is calling to me
- from the darkness of the inside
into the brilliance of the cold sunlight
I step into a sharp and bitter landscape
that now gradually reveals its colour
from beneath the melting whiteness.

From the high expanse of blue
light warms when sheltered from the biting wind
crystals fade to reveal the greenness of corn
and the saturated leaf blackened earth.

The landscape is calling to me
Where snow lies and creates form
the land reveals its essence of hollows and ridges
and the lowness of the morning light
brings places of cool shadows
in contrast to the melting warmth.

I see gliding red kite, buzzard and kestrel too,
long tailed tits chatter in the cold branches
and then, just a few paces away, beneath a tree,
a squirrel: gnawing a yellow maize cob
as in stillness I sketch the spirit of the land.

The landscape is calling to me
with subtle water trickling with graceful bubbles
sneaking their way from the confines of the frozen
- an element of such surprise and change
it creates movement, mirrors and presence
where usually, seemingly none.

It seems to take a long while
to adjust to hearing the voice of nature
and to quieten to the senses around me
- I feel overwhelmed with awareness.

Winter Solstice

2009-12-20T21:30:00.003Z

The landscape of snow before me - white, sparkling with diamond-like ice crystals that reflect the blueness of the cloudless sky above. Light seems wild and demanding, even the shadows cannot hold any secrets. Against the silvery and almost glossy white, bramble leaves - between me and the sun - reveal their transparent colours: greens, reds, oranges and yellows. And against the whiteness the enhanced shapes of trees stand - revealing their deep forms and colours with enhanced presence.

We sit around the candles that we have lit and, like their peaceful and warm light, we find a spirit of sharing and like-mindedness. Ten souls have gathered to reflect on the past year and to look to the new. In the warmth of our special place we drum for each other and for others - particularly those who may not be able to celebrate this festive time as we are able. Through times of silence and meditation we are able to journey in our minds or reflect on our path. Through the enjoyment of warming and delicious food we feel a sense of sharing and belonging that many of us have be patiently waiting many weeks for. We acknowledge each others presence and share a spirit of connection and encouragement. We all have our own path and yet today, amidst the cold and snow outside, we have found warmth, fellowship and friendship and, hopefully, something to take away with us that will bring the sacred into each and every part of our lives.

Living Universe

2009-12-01T22:45:00.001Z

Reflections based upon an article in Resurgence magazine, No. 256 (Sept/Oct 2009): A Journey of Awakening by Duane Elgin. www.awakeningearth.com

My summary of the main points in the article:

The Universe has usually been perceived as being inert and non-living. This has led to our materialistic, consumerist, unsustainable lifestyles and environmental destruction. What if it were, instead, unified and uniquely alive? This would change our perspective and transform our understanding of the cosmos, the nature of human identity and our evolutionary journey.

1. Where are we? The universe is almost entirely invisible and is continuously regenerated by the flow of large amounts of life energy which include consciousness or a reflective capacity enables systems at every scale to exercise some freedom of choice. It is a living and learning system that is alive, subtle, intelligent, purposeful and free. We need to discover the humility of a living systems perspective to rediscover our home.

2. Who are we?: We live within a living universe that arises, moment by moment, as a unified whole. We are beings the universe inhabits as much as we are beings who inhabit the universe. Our life is inseparable from the aliveness of the living universe. Our aliveness and consciousness extend beyond our biological bodies and reaches into the living universe. Our bodies need soul-growing experiences and we can open to a larger sense of self that connects into the subtle aliveness of the universe.

3. Where are we going: We need big changes to live sustainably. We need to discover a common sense of purpose for pulling the human family together: reduce needless clutter, develop authentic relationships, have meaningful work build caring communities and develop creative expressions.

We need a living universe paradigm and understand that our bodies have biological and cosmic dimensions. We need to communicate with the depths of the universe.

I found this an inspiring and thought provoking article that led on from a housegroup discussion last week where I was talking about the creativity of God within the universe and in creating man and Jesus. Although I might question some of the points made above, I thought the idea of a living universe fell neatly into place within an ecological framework. Could it not be said that the underlying life energy is the spiritual energy of the Creator God with the eco-Holy Spirit enlivening all living things and Jesus the embodiment of the earthen elements (air, fire, water, earth and spirit) in human form.

This next passage is copied from the article 'Christians and Druids' by Richard Thomas (http://druidnetwork.org/en/interfaith/articles/richardthomas.html):

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.

This is something that most Druids will recognise. The ‘Awen’, or inspiration, is both the driving force of the creation, and is also responsible for its beginnings. One of the central features of Druidry, the desire to understand the energy of life itself, to honour ‘Awen’ and to draw it into oneself, is also a central feature of Christianity. The language is different, but the meaning is strikingly similar. This is prayer, and prayer, for each of us, is a desire to enter into the sacred, the divine heart of the Universe. For each of us, prayer can be song or silence, action or stillness. For each of us, it is a sacred space where we are called into a relationship with the sacred.

So from the very first words of scripture, Christians and Druids begin to find common ground. The ‘Breath of God’, the Inspiration, the ‘Awen’, moves across the darkness and chaos of matter. Those two small words, ‘moved upon’, barely reflect the strength of the original Hebrew. They are words of storm and power, and reflect an imagery that itself creates movement and response. The language is both mystic and sexual – the Spirit of God penetrates the chaos of unformed matter, inseminating it, bringing it to life. These same ideas are echoed at the start of the New Testament, when the Spirit of God ‘overshadows’ Mary, bringing about a conception that is both human and divine. And so Christians, as well as Druids, can understand the formation of our universe as a form of birth. We can speak of the Spirit of God making chaos pregnant with meaning, form and purpose. We can speak of the dark warm woods, the wild animals, the buzzing insects, even the great seas and mountains, as both spirit and matter: rich and pregnant with the divine nature. Druids and Christians have common ground not simply because we share the same humanity, but because we have a similar understanding of our nature: we are creatures of both matter and spirit. And in speaking of the things that are sacred, our spirits reach out together towards this ‘something’ that is common to us both.

Both of these two explorations of the nature of the universe seem to have much in common and speak of connections and interconnections between ourselves and the universe that surrounds us. I am left with wondering how a purely evangelical Christian perspective might fit into the equation. With an emphasis on a mostly paternalistic God, required personal relationships with the Trinity; literal Biblical interpretation and sinner/saved duality, something somewhere seems to have lost the beauty, mystery and magic that is present in this great created cosmic creation in which we find ourselves. Both passages also speak to me in a language that I can understand and relate to and it is a great joy to find writers who can express thoughts and ideas in such a way. There is a weaving of words, ideas, story, history, nature, mysticism, possibility and creativity that allows room for one to reach out into the realm of personal exploration without the anticipation of judgement or wrongdoing. This is my spiritual path and from time to time it draws me in to explore inwardly and outwardly - to connect with myself and with all that exists around me.

One query I have is how much of our body, consciousness, soul or whatever exists externally to our physical bodies. The first passage alluded to this and I come across it from time to time - is it energy, an aura, prayer....?

Communication

2009-11-29T22:06:00.003Z

What is the distance between you and God? Can you close the gap?

If God didn't speak to you for a while what would that do to your faith?

Should not the living God speak living words into your life?

What do you rely on to maintain the spiritual energy of your faith?

What is your spiritual life anyway....?

Why do I love to draw hills and trees?

Well there are some thoughts from church this morning. I'm not going to answer these questions now but they were thought provoking... depending on how you view God, communication between you and Him/Her and what actually is a 'spiritual life'.

Dreaming of Stones

2009-11-24T21:55:00.001Z

I'm remembering a landscape of stones. Stones of size and stature that embody a landscape with form and shape. Stones that hold mystery and meaning. Stones that integrate with other beings and elements to create diversity. I imagine it is beckoning me and awaiting the feel of my fingers and tread of foot.

The winter arrives with a promise of cold and darkness, and a landscape that opens to allow the wind and rain to permeate to every place and being. To me, the winter brings another source of life and energy. Not that of spring or summer, but one that dwells in the secrets that the wind whispers in the trees, in the transformations that winter light can bring to the hills and in the scents that arise from the dampening earth. It is strong, earthy and wild, yet possibly lonely but adventurous. You have to take yourself out of a comfortable place in order to seek it and be energised by it. It isn't for the unprepared - being cold and wet is not a good place in which to be.

In about four weeks I'll be back in a landscape that owes its being to the commanding nature of stones. Dartmoor. It will only be a short time there - just a couple of days. Not nearly long enough to retreat into it from the busyness of life and to get to know its subtle qualities of existence. For some reason my mind is dwelling on the bare rocks and stones that form the high wind swept tors, the softness of the mosses that cover rocks in the woodland and the cold colourful stones in the beds of clear streams. I am eager to meet them again - to touch, hold and smell them, and to acknowledge their presence in the landscape. Just like the ancients who created stone circles, the people who made hut circles, the farmers who built eternal walls and the destructive quarrymen have all done in the near and distant past. Stone is the landscape there and it has connected with the lives of humans for thousands of years in many differing ways.

I want to learn something from the stones this winter. I know I cannot hold more than just dreams nor expect nature to give up secrets just when I am there. I just have to be, to just observe and see what guides me.

Allotment Beginnings

2009-11-23T21:26:00.008Z

It has been a good couple of months now since I first stepped foot onto my allotment. It was a bare patch of rotovated soil that gave me a blank canvas upon which to start my journey into food production on a grander scale. The plot is on a fairly secluded site surrounded by high hedges about half a mile from the runway at Luton Airport.

With no real idea what had been on the plot before hand, nor any idea what the soil was like there, my main initial task was to lay out a path up the middle. This was easy as it just involved marking a pleasing curvy path and throwing down some grass seed. Then came the digging by hand. This was my only way of really getting a feel for what the earth was like. When I first started in September, the soil was dry, very hard, full of flints and impossible to dig with a spade. There had been no rain for many weeks and the spade was soon abandoned in favour of a garden fork. Over the past couple of months the plot has now been dug and I completed the task a couple of days ago after a spell of rather wet weather. The contrast in digging conditions from when I first started was amazing. In parts soil was completely waterlogged with standing water at the bottom of the trench and almost impossible to do anything with. All I could do was just loosen the earth and let a bit of air in. Now that the earth has all been turned I can let the winter do its weathering job and I should be ready to plant in the spring. The soil seems very lacking in organic matter and what with all the stones and flints present will probably dry out quickly. I did start to remove quite a lot of the stones I found and quickly managed to build quite a large pile, but there were so many that I then began to only remove the biggest ones that my fork hit. At least I've got some air into the soil and found a few worms - though not that many. A mole has even dug a tunnel under my path - I don't get them in the house garden at all.

I keep hearing people say how time consuming allotments can be. I hope to prove them wrong by careful planning of low maintenance crops and efficient weed management. I've already got a small and very cheap push mower to cut the path, and I think that a good quality hoe will keep down many of the weeds - as well as intensive planting of a wide variety of crops. I am mainly planning to grow root crops, though the stoney nature of the ground will be a problem. I don't want to grow things that require a lot of regular watering, spraying against caterpillars or protection from slugs. I gather that pigeons are a problem on the site so I may have to invest in some wire netting for young plants. With the dark winter evenings ahead of me I'll have to sit down and do a bit of research to find out how best to utilise the plot.

I am surprised at how little composting goes on in neighboring plots. A huge amount of topsoil and organic matter is just piled up with other rubbish to be taken away by the council on a regular basis. I'm am quite amazed at this and will probably go and remove some of it to start my own compost heap so that I'll have something to add to my soil in the spring. The topsoil seems very thin on my plot and the last thing I want to do is remove anything from the site! I know that I'll remove vegetables, but any other organic matter that the system produces must be recycled back into it to help improve soil quality and fertility.

About two-thirds the way up the plot I've created a large circular patch of grass. Turning some of the plot into lawn is probably cheating a bit in the sense in that it is reducing the area in which I need to do much, but I wanted to create a space in which to sit, have picnics or become a play area for my daughter. In fact, when I look at the photo it does seem as though there isn't much space that isn't path, but I am sure the perspective is deceiving as there was a lot of digging involved! I'll probably be narrowing the path anyway in the spring when the soil has settled down a little.

I'm not really planning to blog much about the allotment unless there is something significant to say. This is really just a summary what i've done so far.

Being Still

2009-11-02T21:22:00.004Z

'To create is always to learn, to begin over, to begin at zero. Part of the discipline of art as meditation is the discipline of struggling always from the beginning - "In the beginning," one might say.' Matthew Fox, Original Blessing, p198.

Somewhere in North Hertfordshire on a Sunday Morning...

This feels like the first time in months I have been able to just sit. To sit quietly. To sit without the feeling that I should be doing something else. To sit without being anxious about anything. To sit with only a very slight chance of being disturbed. Just occasionally I seek out a place like this. A place where time has no value and where I can place to one side all the things that demand my attention and just give myself permission to just 'be'. I am away for the demands of work, I know my family are safe and I have just finished a run of busy, but very creative and inspiring weekends. I am here, alone - apart from the presence of many non-humans who surround my temporary sacred place.

I have been in this place for about an hour now and I've decided to get out my sketchpad and write. It seems impossible and so idealistic to "go-slow" and to savour the more natural side to life amidst the demands and anxieties that abound in work, the family and life in general. I'm not going to explore these here as I am reluctant to dwell on the negative things that can occupy my thoughts at times. All I will say is that trying to live a positive and empowered life as encouraged by so many personal development advocates can be very hard work! I've stepped out of my comfort zone several times recently by volunteering to organise a grass maze and children's quiz at the Luton Hoo Walled Garden Apple and Pumpkin Gala; and running a craft activity in Hitchin's Market Square for the Triangle Community Garden. Both left me incredibly energized and I didn't enjoy coming back down to earth again! Some people seem to have so much energy and a seemingly insatiable appetite for doing stuff and achieving things. I know I am very hard on myself when I look at the skill-set of other people and I have to learn how to be constructive in such situations.

I am in my lonely place, a sacred place I'd call it, just for a few hours this morning. What will it teach me I wonder? I am not alone here. Although I am in a place where no people will pass me, I am conscious of the many non-humans that surround me and so I don't feel alone. A moth flutters on my umbrella; a spider crawls up my sketchpad; several other small beetles and invertebrates either crawl over my hand or over the white pages. There is a ladybird too. A few birds are tweeting in the trees and I am surrounded by trees. Trunks blackened by the pouring rain - stark against the bright golden yellows and browns of the vivid carpet of beech, oak and sycamore leaves. Even in this wetness beneath a heavy grey sky the woodland is awash with dense colours that the spirit of autumn brings. It is a time of death, of harvest, of fruitfulness; of shedding unwanted things, preparation for hard times and of giving back to the soil. Mosses look a deep healthy green and beneath the carpet of leaves I know there is a thriving community of fungi, invertebrates and microorganisms. I see some very tiny toadstools that have forced their way through the decaying organic matter up into the freedom of the space of the woodland floor.

It is warm for the first day of November, about twelve degrees centigrade according to the weather forecast yesterday. I'm feeling quite cosy, though I have a good few layers on and a wind-proof coat which I certainly need today. I'm on the lee side of the hill and up above me the trees are facing the fullness of the very strong wind and rain that is pouring in from the south-west. Where I am, blades of grass are just gently swaying, but later I am sure I will feel the full force of the wildness. I'm glad I have a large umbrella to shelter me from the wind and the rain, I know that I need to keep as warm and dry as possible if I am to stay here for any length of time. The wind and wet can soon cool the body, so I huddle up tight and keep warm.

I've just been re-reading Matthew Fox's Original Blessing. I wish it wasn't quite so heavy going, one day I'll get round to trying to write a more easily accessible version of it! It is basically a book about 'rediscovering' the blessing of Creation given to us by God.

As I look out at the woodland around me, the following things come to mind:

Escapism is key to renewal

There is colour even in death

You are never alone in nature

Man's survival should not be separate from nature

Weather waits for no-one

Growth is always present

Beauty is always present

Patience

Do I prefer shelter or do i like the wind and the rain? How do I deal with comfort zones?

What can I share with others?

A tree has its own leaves and yet when it sheds them they mingle with those of trees around them (to ensure a mix of organic matter?)

Journeys involve leaving, separation and time of returning home

How can I change on my return home? How can I maintain that?

How can I be a change

How, ideally, should I deal with work and family?

Being peaceful and strong is a gift (like a tree)

Giving of that which has sustained you may be a sacrifice, but it may ensure your survival in the long run (leaves, money, love....?)

How does nature cope with rain? Growth, waiting, indifference...?

Nature is always creating, transforming and never static? How is that reflected in me? Was Jesus like that?

I watch the leaves tumbling down though the branches and give thanks for this place. It is time for me to leave and see what else the day has to offer me.

And when the mist comes down

2009-10-10T20:58:00.001Z

An October afternoon up in the woods above Croft Castle, Herefordshire

And when the mist comes down
The silence of this grey shroud
subdues all sound and heightens
the call of the tiny goldcrest.

And when the mist comes down
the memory of the morning's
orange sunrise seems distant
and the brilliant moon
that kept the landscape wake
will not be seen tonight.

And when the mist comes down
the soft drip, drop of water
off the dense, darkest green pines
surrounds the lonely traveller.

And when the mist comes down
a gentle breeze waves
the golden bracken fronds -
the only movement in this shaded place.

And when the mist comes down
I walk with meditative footsteps
on the long awaited dampness
that the autumn now brings.

And when the mist comes down
the landscape hides its form
and only my feet and my soul
can guide my solitary path.

And when the mist comes down
My world has shrunk to that
which I can only see ahead -
the distance is no longer visible.

Lyngham Vallet: A Place to Be.

2009-10-10T20:56:00.001Z

An October morning on the edge of Bircher Common near Croft Castle, Herefordshire

A place to be: where the valley lies, awakening to the cool, almost imperceptible pale salmon light of the new day.

A place to be: where shelter from the cold morning breeze is given by a thick gorse bush looking out over the trees below.

A place to be: where waves of bracken cascade down the valley sides under the birch and oak.

A place to be: where blackbirds and others call through the silence.

A place to be: where deep in the dark conifers the grunting of dear echoes over the landscape.

A place to be: where the subtle changes in the colours of the leaves call to the onset of autumn.

A place to be: where this small valley seems to hold treasure and peace.

A place to be: where, earlier, in a car sleeping. Cold and uncomfortable, yet beneath a moonlit sky.

A place to be: where a welcome can be given to the new day.

How the mind can play with words.

2009-10-10T20:54:00.001Z

I was walking down from Croft Ambrey towards Croft Castle recently and happened upon a time when the poetic side of my brain seemed to awake from deep dormancy to intense creativity. Every part of the landscape seemed to speak to me and I responded with my voice in words that flowed with ease and freedom. I was reluctant to stop and try and write everything down as it would spoil the presence on the experience, so I sat down in the walled garden a short while later to try and jot things down. Alas, the creativity had gone and I was left with only a few memories that in no real way captured the real essence of what I had thought. I don't why this happens - perhaps it is to do with stimulation from the natural world or a relaxation of the mind when time is spent away from day to day thought processes.

Anyway, this is what I will write after looking back at my notes a day later:

Down the grassy hill I walked
towards the great old spiralling chestnuts
and now beneath a fruitful apple tree
the poetry I sang seems faraway.

I'll never understand the poetry of life.
The twists and turns like the falling of leaves
and the breeze that carries thoughts
like a bird on the wing
with freedom it flies in the wilderness of space.

A jay - from branch to branch
with a flash of white;
and a pigeon a fluttering of grey.
The crow, dark and heavy with steady flight
and a squirrel hurrying away
with chestnut to a hidden place.

....

And I can't remember anything more - but it went on for ages.

The Vine

2009-09-08T20:49:00.004Z

The Vine
Reflections on the sermon given at Stopsley Baptist Church on Sunday 6 September 2009

Building a church based on New Testament principles.
What does the word church really mean to us and how can we engage with a new vision of the meaning of church in our lives? If the we take the definition of church to become one that is a body of people, and the physical building that we all call church becomes a community centre, how will that change the way Christians relate to others within their own body and with those in the wider community at large? How will it effect their relationship with Christ?

Some people may immediately wonder how much more is it possible to do because, surely, SBC is already a very missional and many members are active in the local community. Others may be so tied down to work and family responsibilities that forming a more outward perspective may be hard. Others may be terrified at the thought that it may involve loosing security and comfort.

I suppose alot of it depends on your relationship with God and your spirituality. If going to church on a Sunday fulfills your needs and this is your "God time" then that is Ok. I've no idea how many, but I expect a large proportion of the church do take their Christianity seriously enough to give it a certain amount of attention over the rest of the week. Some, at the extreme end - and I am one of those - may find Sunday church to be the time when they can feel distant from God because little there relates to their own experiencial perspective of God.

I liked the illustration of church being a interlinking network of elements rather than being and isolated box in the darkness. A very ecological perspective! All of nature is an interconnected set of systems and processes where nothing exists in isolation. These connections enable life to exist and perpetuate. I'd even say that inanimate objects have their place and form part of the ecosphere. An analogy was used regarding the potential of an acorn that contains all that is needed to produce an oak tree. When an acorn begins its journey of transformation it won't even start to grow unless it has various combinations of light or darkness, heat or cold, water, oxygen, time.... A gardener may love his acorn that he holds carefully in his hand, but unless he does something with it it will not release the potential locked up inside. God, the ultimate gardener and carer for his vine, Jesus, would have expected even him to bear fruit. I wonder how Jesus felt and how he was pruned? To me, faith cannot just be a "Jesus loves me, I'm alright" affair. I can't just be an acorn thinking that all is alright and that I'll grow into a magnificent tree. I need earth, light, energy and a habitat in which I will thrive.

Church should very much be the framework of people and community networks in which we relate to the world around us. It should be everything from formal meetings and home groups to social networks and work structures. I would call the times I spend with friends drumming around a log fire 'church'. It is there that we meet, share, talk, pray, realise intentions, seek guidance and value fellowship in a safe and unthreatening environment. We can be who we want to be, we can sit beside differing beliefs and share a welcoming smile. It isn't a 'Christian' group, but for me that doesn't matter. I can take it on my own level and be enriched in ways that are meaningful to me.

The Vine (John 15:1-7)
There was a quote along the lines of "Fruit bearing is not a human possibility; it is Christ's work through us". This seems to imply that you may not really be able to bear fruit unless you are a Christian. It also contains the idea of original sin which I struggle with - I am more of an "original blessing" sort of person (see Matthew Fox's work on the subject). Many people bear fruit and having a diversity of "vines" keeps a well balanced system in order as happens in nature. Rely too much on one thing and the whole ecosystem can collapse. Nature always promotes and thrives on variety, whereas monoculture needs an unhealthy input of unnatural elements to make it work. If we remove ourselves from the ecosystem that supports us, we will not last very long. We need to belong. Jesus' anaology here with how systems are found in nature is something I hadn't really seen before. "Remain in me" (John 15:4) belongs in quite an ecocentric passage, for it warns about the dangers of ignoring that which sustains us, supports us and gives us life. From a Cosmic Christ point of view, we ignore Christ, the animating Spirit of the Earth, at our peril.

Being and Doing
How should we go about "Being and Doing Church"? I am sure there is much that could be drawn out of that phrase...

I face a huge battle personally with the concepts of being and doing in my life. Half of me is always wanting to be "doing" something: gardening, walking, cycling, working, exploring personal development ideas, being dissatisfied with where I am at and getting depressed at not being like others whom I perceive as more successful. Then there is the quiet "being" half which is the mystical, quiet, listening, observing, meditating, solitary, nature aware spiritual side. The two always seem to be antagonistic with each other. Getting the 'being' balance right is hard because taken to its extreme you could 'be' so much and exist in such a state of relaxed ease and contentment with the present that you would never get out of bed in the morning. How you go about being active for your faith, missional, a learner and a disciple in a state of being rather than doing would probably provoke an interesting discussion at a workshop or talk on the issue. I think that it is a core principle of much Celtic spirituality and personal development work and is an interesting area which I find fascinating and could go on for hours about.

Night-time and The Gift

2009-09-02T19:42:00.002Z

I've recently spent a few days camping near Fordingbridge in the New Forest. It was very much a family holiday and so I didn't get much time to myself to explore places and ideas at a deeper level. I like to be comfortable in a place so that I can explore it at my leisure and see in what way it might speak to me. There was an area of woodland near the campsite which I was able to explore - mainly it seemed late in the evening once "Piglet" had gone to bed and we had cleared up the tent and had coffee. Then I had a bit of 'me' time.

Going out into woodland in the encroaching dark is an interesting experience in examining what fears we have of dark unknown shapes and things that suddenly dash off in the undergrowth. Our minds are so programmed with scary thoughts, but in reality there is little or nothing, naturally speaking, that can harm us on a night's walk.

The woods were generally very quiet - just the soft swish of bats, the rustle of leaves in a breeze and the occasional hoot of an owl. Once, where I could walk out to meet the river that flowed silently through the still meadows, again all was quiet. But in the darkness I heard a gentle splashing sound and though the dim light of the lowering moon three swans swam down to river to where I was sitting and then cautiously turned up a small stream and into the tall vegetation and willows of the river bank.

With a couple of nights of clear skies I was able to lie down and gaze up at the stars above me. I don't 'do' stars so I have no idea where I was looking - apart from straight up! I am sure an occasional meteor streaked above me and are those satellites - the ever so tiny fast moving pinpricks of light that are almost imperceptible?

The Gift
So there I am gazing up into what we think of as the infinite expanse of space. For once I don't feel frightened at the thought of all that up there. I feel that I am on a gift, a gift given to us that gives us food, shelter and somewhere to exist. It is our protective sphere of earth that enables us to be part of this huge evolutionary experience. Is it a Divine gift? You could look at it that way. There may be other alternatives that are proposed but to me, in this place, the word "Gift" was true to me. A gift is treasured, valued and given thanks for. The giver is respected. We are receivers. How could I think otherwise when I was surrounded by lush meadows, deep woodland and hedgerows bursting with berries.

I didn't want to go to bed. I wanted to stay up, enjoy the darkness, listen to the breeze and just sit by candlelight.

Experiencing the Woods
Sometimes I am intrigued at how silent and un-wildlifey woods can feel. Occasionally I would do an exercise of thinking "what would a Druid do or feel?". How would they view or feel about a particular place or event. It is a bit like the "What Would Jesus Do?" sort of thing. To my mind I find it easier to think about the former as I can identify with that more easily - and I'm not here going to explain or justify my thoughts or how I wouldn't necessarily differentiate between the two, and anyway I use the term 'Druid' loosely to mean "a deep nature lover of great wisdom" and as it only has five letters it is quicker to write than "a deep nature lover of great wisdom"!

So in the wood, at night, how do I feel? What can I hear? What can I smell? What can I sense? Well, only the obvious things really - nothing too enlightening, but then you can't always force things just when you want to experience something new. As I have said above, you need to tune into a place.

And not just in the wood. What about when things are stressful in the family or when work isn't going too well? How would "a deep nature lover of great wisdom" deal with things? Theory is easier than practice.

Summerhouse
The nights are closing in. It is 8.30pm, dark and pouring with rain outside the summerhouse. I can hear it beating on the roof and dripping off the sides. I like being here in the rain as it masks out the sounds on the traffic and neighbours and I feel quite cosy and isolated here. I could do with more light though but I do like my candle.

More on the Christian Druid

2009-08-18T21:32:00.004+01:00

Here is a passage from What is Druidry (first published as Principles of Druidry) by Emma Restall Orr . It is available at www.whatisdruidry.org

The Christian Angle

A significant proportion of Druids do not identify themselves as primarily Pagan. There are those who declare Druidry is not a spirituality or religion, and many hold that it is a path of mysticism, a wisdom school, within which one can hold any religious belief. This allows for Druids who are purely searching through the mind, without an acknowledgement of spirit other that as life force energy. A good number of these non-pagans blend the philosophies of Druidry with those of Christianity.

For a Druid Christian, the Earth and all creation is an expression of the deity as presence, and therefore deeply sacred. While there are Christians who acknowledge this without moving into Druidry, others find that the philosophy significantly strengthens and broadens their faith. Deepening the acceptance, within the framework of Christianity, of the power and Beauty of the divine gift of the physical, there is opened up also the respect for sexuality, for birth, our genetic inheritance and with it reverence for our ancestors. The Earth, its flora and fauna, humanity and all creation become an altar to God. In an age when environmentalism, the importance of family and community, interest in folk traditions and natural medicine are all increasing, the point at which Druidry and Christianity meet becomes clearer.

The openness of the Druidic language, which allows for any colour and mixture of god and ceremony within its essential philosophy, invites the Christian to relate his own imagery into Druidry. There are many points of meeting; for instance, the Mabon. The sacred child, the sun reborn in the darkness of Midwinter, is comfortably woven with the birth of Jesus. The importance of divine sacrifice is also shared, acknowledged in Druidry at the harvest with the death of the corn god, the cycle of decay and regeneration through the seasons of the year, and the process of dying to the self in the mystical journey to inner peace.

Christians within Druidry come from many different churches, from the simplicity of Quakerism to the highly ritualistic, from the focus on Jesus to the honouring of a thousand saints, and each interacts with the Druid philosophy in a different way, each creating a different Druidic practice. Some strands of Christianity are easily plaited with Druidry, such as those where particular saints act as spirit guardians at, for example, healing springs.

There are some Druid orders who only accept Christians into their membership, while others would accept non-pagans. The vast majority, however, are not restrictive in this way and, indeed, many Druids actively work on the borders where the traditions meet, bridging the gaps and addressing the issues where misunderstandings have arisen. Interfaith conferences held over the last five years have inspired an increasing tolerance and understanding, not only at the border points but also more deeply within each tradition.

A number of those who blend the two do so from a point outside the Christian Church, although remaining within its faith. These Christians or Christic Druids retain a clear understanding of the Christian deity, honouring Jesus Christ as the saviour, the key and the gateway in whichever way they are most accustomed to or inspired by, yet stepping away from the structure of the religion which they regard as political.

For the wider Pagan and polytheistic Druid community, these Christic Druids are acknowledged and respected simply as revering another of the numerous gods.

Some Christians within Druidry describe themselves as of the Celtic Church.

The concept that a unified and peaceful Celtic Christianity existed in these islands long before the arrival of Roman Catholicism is one that was contrived in the sixteenth century by those seeking to justify the Reformation. The Protestant reformers claimed that the older church, which had been overwhelmed by Rome, was a simpler and purer form of Christianity, and therefore by rejecting Catholicism they were simply embracing an older native version of the faith.

It is understood now that this was a political argument with no foundation. The Christianity that did reach Britain and Ireland from the fifth century CE and before the spread of the Holy Roman Empire was a chaotic and fractious affair, filled with evangelical fervour and a horror of Paganism, of nature and sexuality. The idea that many Druids and Pagans were naturally and easily drawn to the faith because it resembled their own is an extension of the myth of the purer, peaceful Celtic Church. The conversion of kings took place as an acknowledgement of a more powerful god of battle, not a move to a god of love.

For those eager to find inspiration within Christianity and through the earliest texts, the tale of the Celtic saints, men and women who struggled and succeeded in finding peace and harmony in this era of intense violence and uncertainty, are a rich source of inspiration.

The notion of Celtic Christianity is nowadays an issue quite separate from the imaginary ideal of a romantic pre-Catholicism. For many it is that part of the liberal Church which stands on the borderline with Druidry and Earth spirituality, acknowledging the history of these islands, bringing to the fore the saints whose faith influenced our ancestors, honouring the power and beauty of the land and seas.

The Druid Christian

2009-08-17T22:19:00.001+01:00

I have been pondering on whether my term for there being a 'Christian Druid' was inaccurate and, as I have come from a mainly Christian upbringing, so perhaps the term 'Druid Christian' would be more helpful.

But I hate labels, even though they help to form an identity around who or what you are. It is like having a coat hanger upon which you can hang all your favourite bits and pieces so that they don't get all scrumpled up and dusty at the bottom of the wardrobe.

To all those who have commented on my previous blogs about Christian Druidry I give a big thank you. I really ought to sort some stuff out and try and build a proper framework around the subject - as I have probably implied, it would not be Druidry as such, nor Paganism but fairly general and holistic view of a practical natural spirituality.

We all want identity, we all want hope, we all want security; some of us need the 'spiritual'. But the 'spiritual' has to be real to us. It has to be real, authentic, trustworthy, boundary-less and true to our soul. It may well have to be kept private if we are not in a secure place of sharing. I find it hard work, mentally and physically, to embrace a lifestyle that I perceive would be true to my spirituality. Some people may find it easy to walk their chosen path, but I don't. But that spurs me on to learn more and to try and incorporate something practical in my daily lifestyle.

It is a place of mystery when art, poetry, music, writing, nature and the desire for the 'other' meet and explore in creative playfulness. It is a place of unknowing where the unexpected may happen. It is a place of prayer when you reach out from within into the space of the otherness. It is a place of slowing down, when the time of our world meet that of the earth. It is a place where fear of darkness or the unkown lessens. It is a place where your inner soul finds strength and belonging.

I don't know what to write
I want to explore with words
I want to touch the cool leaves
I want to run through the fields
I want to sense prayers that call
to the unseen and receive the
gifts of the mysterious.

I want.
How unfortunate a phrase
typical of our unsustainability.

I am what I write
I am exploring with words
I am touching the cool leaves
I am running through the fields
I am sensing prayers that call
to the unseen and receiving the
gifts of the mysterious.

Summer Path

2009-08-16T20:52:00.002+01:00

A warm summers morning with high cloud and a mostly blue sky sees me walking along a wide footpath between two hedges. This may once have been an old trackway, now it is a place that allows nature to bear its precious goods. Between the corn fields this old trackway is warm with a gentle breeze floating over the closely trimmed hedgerows. Shadows of tall grasses and herbs ripple over the grass upon which I am sitting. There are bees on the purple knapweed, and many white butterflies dancing around the flowers - yarrow, clover, and so much more.

I've met hardly anyone on my walk today but in the space of perhaps just ten minutes of my sitting here two separate couples have walked by, one single person and a group of about 5 cyclists. And then no-one else. Who is this person sitting with a notebook on the grass in the middle of nowhere they must wonder.

The wind whispers around me, cars hum in the distance and flies buzz here and there. It is peaceful. Blackberries are turning from red to black. Tall hogweed stems reach upwards, now brown and dying, holding their fragile seedheads above the surrounding grasses. These strong verticles are reflected in the vapour trails that cross the sky above me.

Today my mind feels bogged down, dull, heavy and struggling to think about anything clearly. I hope the fresh air and the exercise will free some creative energy. I need something.

There is a huge richness around me that looks so easy and natural to nature. Yet it has to have a place to thrive and grow creatively. Creativity needs a place in which to grow, to be nurtured and to be fruitful. The fields around me are so managed with almost enforced ecosystems, and yet this broad pathway is a place of freedom and refuge for the plants and insect life to do what they need to do. All too often I feel as though i am not able to grow and flourish as much as I could. I know that is a negative thought, but it gets to me at times and I always seem to struggle with it.

This pathway is a beautiful place to be. The path is well worn and it looks as though it may be mown one in the spring or so. There are occasional gaps in the hedges where I can look outwards into the surrounding fields and countryside. It can be too easy for me to concentrate my view in the near and tangible. There is so much to look at and be stimulated by at whatever is close to hand, but sometimes I must look outwards - beyond the comfort zone - into the outer environment. I step aside from the path temporarily and walk into the field. It is bounded by bright red poppies, invisible from the path. The harvest has passed through this field year but it will be back another time. It is place where birds (pigeons and crows) fly with freedom - way from the boundaries of the hedgerow. I walk onwards, slowly. Soon my path will end, but it will open out into another path with new things to look at and new views and experiences.

I am writing this later in the evening at the top of the garden as the light fades. I feel more rejuvenated and responsive now. Being outside has really cleared my mind before another week of being chained to the computer at work.

Thank you for my walk.
Thank you for the freedom
For the flight of the butterflies
and the lightness of the post-combine straw.
Thank you for the breeze
That holds the smell of the sweetpeas
the flight of the bees
and the whispering leaves.
Thank you for the path
that took hold of my burden
and took me on a journey.
Thank you for my family
for the delight they bring.
May my mind find clarity
when words fail to appear.
May I know my path
and the joy it brings.
And for the other things
that are known by you
I ask for blessings
wisdom, truth and wisdom.

Thank you for this day.

Climate Change

2009-08-16T20:08:00.001+01:00

I think that the phrase "Global Warming" is not a good phrase to use and I would much rather talk about "Climate Change". Whether or not man is responsible for the various manifestations that are perceived to come from the change in climate may be open to scientific debate but, to a deep ecologist, there can be no removal of the effects of man's activities on the environment from the impact this may have. Can the earth continue to self-regulate itself purely to the advantage of mankind? I believe that even small changes in a local microclimate can change the wider macroclimate. There are no closed systems in the natural cycles and rhythms of the development and running of the earth. Perhaps the earth is doing 'her own thing' irrespective of man's activities, but does that absolve us from any responsibility for our actions...? Have we evolved to such an extend that we can exist separately and independently from the natural world?

Garden thoughts

2009-08-16T20:07:00.000+01:00

I'm out in the garden on a warmish August evening. We've yet again moved things around and the garden table and chairs have moved to the top of the garden by the summer house. We wanted to put up our family tent and the only way we could do it was to move the trampoline to where the table was, move the table to the top patio, move the tomatoes there to where the trampoline was earlier on in the year and then put the tent up on the lawn - and it only just fitted!

From this new place for the table I am now sitting: hidden from view from the house and our neighbours but still able to look out over the top of the garden.

I'd like to live outside in the garden more but it takes a bit of effort and it isn't always practical around the family but like all things it just needs a bit of re-visioning.

The garden, like last year, is full of growth. With a wet summer around us the garden seems full of vigour and creativity. The earth that seems so cold and bare in the winter is bearing huge amounts of greenery. I'm not sure if the tomatoes will ripen, but I'll certainly get many jars of chutney off them nevertheless. I've already got about eight jars of runner bean chutney which I am looking forward to tasting in the autumn. The garden has never been a place to explore artistic creativity but I hope to gradually change that by accumulating a few odds and ends and adding a bit of alternative interest here and there. Not quite sure yet what though.

The mint and lavender were covered with bees, flies and butterflies today. I'm now watching 2 female blackbirds on a fence just a few yards away. One looks like a juvenile, both seem to be wary of me but not unduly concerned as I tap away at my keyboard.

Is God a plant?

2009-08-16T08:26:00.004+01:00

I've just finished reading 'The Voice of the Earth - an exploration of ecopsychology' by Theodore Roszak (Phanes Press, 2001). A big juicy book that delved into the realm of psychology, ecology and an exploration of ideas into how we came into existence on this earth and where we might be going.

To be honest, much of the book was too deep for me and difficult to absorb in many places. I have often said that the subject of ecopsychology interests me, but the book did reveal how I only understand it at a very superficial level. Without a deeper and more technical understanding of Freud, Jung and psychology in general I just have to take what bits I can understand and see how it adds to my awareness of an ecological self. I am, though, glad I read the book as it was quite enlightening in parts. And odd bits of it will sink into my thoughts and writings anyway.

It is a big question - does our mind exist solely within us or is does it somehow have a wider field of operation? Is there a wider creative 'mind' that belongs in the universe? And do the two minds have any interraction?

When I look at the plant life around me, and then consider the fact that throughout the whole of creation humans have only occupied a small timeframe of existence in Gaia, then I wonder how human-like that cosmological creative spirit might be. Does a humancentric idea of "God" reinforce the ecological separation that we face in our lives - the paternalistic industrialisation of society, consumerism of desirables, ecological unsustainability, financial greed and political and social instability? Is God a plant? A bizarre question indeed but, at a superficial level, if the world has a creator God then it must surely have some 'plant' characteristics. After all, we humans have only appeared on the earth in the last tiny fraction of the time it has existed.

I know I keep struggling with all this God stuff and keep looking for ways to help me frame an understanding. Sometimes I think I have I have it all sorted but then something will happen or someone will say something that gets me questioning again. Should I bother thinking about it? Is it ultimately all a waste of time? No, I think not. I have my time here on this green planet and I should respect both as a gift to me. When I look around me all the things I see people believe, I don't see one set of people who have obviously got it right at the expense of all the others. I see people who do amazing things because of their deep beliefs - whatever their religion. If my belief system can empower me to do value things in my life, then that is a place I want to be in.

My mind seems very much attuned to the ecology and presence of plants. I'm not an animals person, nor an insect person, and nor at times a human person. But stick me amongst plants and I feel very much at home. They inhabit a very different world to the one in which we live and one that I can only observe from the outside. I admire people who know a lot about the folklore of plants and have learnt to work with them.

When I awake my ecological self and take my mind of the busyness of work, family and all that is going on around me, I feel a deep sense of peace and belonging in the journey that I am walking. It feels like a return to home, but also to a place of deep mystery, challenge and unknowing. At times it may feel like a refuge, but at times it feels like entering a den of lions.

How do you bring about global change and environmental respect to diverse cultures where there is little awareness of a personal responsibility to the environment? I don't know whether we have the ability to do that. With so many people striving to work, repay mortgages, own cars, shop more, compete for jobs, seek western affluence, satisfy personal 'wants', fit into business, political and social structures etc, there may be little time for more 'earthly' needs - whatever they may be.

Not sure if this is all very coherent.... I just wanted to jot down a few things.

Camping and Drumming

2009-07-29T20:50:00.001+01:00

Recently I spent a few days camping. I spent one night at Eastnor Deer Park campsite near Ledbury in Herefordshire and then three nights at the Resurgence Readers Camp held at Green and Away, a tented and 'green' conference centre near Worcester. With four days at my disposal I wanted to make sure that I used them wisely. The Resurgence camp was a great opportunity to meet a diverse group of people but, as I had found last year to be so emotionally challenging and inspiring, I decided not to attend any of the talks or activities this year. I talked lots, did quite a bit of washing up and enjoyed just sitting around chatting to people. It was great to spend time with people who shared many of my interests and ideas and I appreciated not feeling quite so isolated.

There were some things that were inspiring to me about my time way and I will just recount them here. I don't want this to be a diary as such so I'm just going to write what comes into my mind and not focus on times, places or people as such.

I had pitched my tent in Eastnor Deer Park on the south-western edge of the Malvern Hills and walked up to the monument on the hill above the campsite. During my tea I had been watched by two doe Roe Deer and five stags then appeared out of the woods to watch me as I left the tent and began to walk up the hill. It was about 9pm and the light was just beginning to fade. The rain laden clouds were giving way to a much clearer sky and there was quite a cool breeze. I took my drum with me and enjoyed a decent time drumming in the approaching darkness. With the air being cold and damp, my drum was distinctly sounding flat but it was wonderful to play it and listen to how it sounded with the breeze in the trees. This was the first night of my holiday and I felt a great release of freedom from the isolation and restriction I had felt at work. I had driven three hours to get to this place and now I was at home in the landscape, the wind and the rain. There was one moment of looking up when I was thinking about light and immediately seeing the only star in a patch of sky that was very moving.

I took my drum on a gloriously warm and sunny morning up onto Midsummer Hill on the southern end of the Malvern Hills. Walking up to the hilltop just after 6am was a wonderful experience and the views were superb - so clear under a cloudless sky. There was a strong breeze, but in the lee of the hilltop and the concrete seat, I enjoyed a great time of drumming. Weaving seemed to be the theme - weaving the sound of the drum through the landscape. I find that small chants can come naturally to me in places like this. I can't always remember them as they come and go with the flow of my drumming and whatever I am thinking or praying about. It is a very "in the moment" sort of experience.

The River Teme runs beside the Green and Away camp and I took my drum down the river bank one morning after breakfast. It was warmish, mostly sunny and no-one else was about. The river was significantly higher than last year and the water a muddy brown with silt from recent rains. The Indian Balsam was in full flower and long-tailed tits fluttered around seemingly unperturbed in the willow trees just beside me as I drummed. I then sat down and spent an hour or so drawing my experience, by which time other campers were out walking and enjoying the river too.

I spent an hour by myself in the yurt 'sitting room' drumming. This is almost one of my most favourite places in which to be. Quite, surrounded by soft cushions, warm in the summer sunshine and very welcoming.

I had a good walk up onto Croft Ambrey and then a few hours drawing in the walled garden at Croft Castle. Between the many rain showers there was lovely sunshine, but it was so intermittently wet that I didn't get as much drawing done as I would have liked.

Driving from Leominster with my mother to our old farm. It was a beautifully warm, clear and sunny evening and the countryside around Tenbury Wells and towards Hanley Child looked stunning.

I'm not used to talking so much and so when faced with so many interesting people who all share many of my different interests it was fun but quite tiring to practice quality communication. I did appreciate that some people sought me out from time to time as I felt I was always giving, always being the one to initiate conversation - and I was trying very hard to be pleasent, chatty, respectful and friendly to all whom I met.

Visting the Knapp and Papermill Nature Reserve. This has to now be one of my favourite places on the planet! I went there twice this year having fallen in love with it last year. The river, the old apple orchard, the woodland, the meadows.... sigh!

Finding time to do some drawing that wasn't rushed was wonderful. I did a couple of pictures at the Resurgence camp that I put up in the yurt and those that saw them and realised I had done them were quite appreciative of them. I felt I had contributed something in a quiet, sort of unseen way to the camp. If i go again next year I might draw upon this and do something a bit more.

Woodland Evening

2009-07-19T21:25:00.001+01:00

Against the oak tree I sit, my mind cluttered with flirtaceous thoughts: things dipping in and out of my thinking, teasing and all competing for my attention. The day, past, has devoured my energy and so I have stepped out on a small journey to find settlement and calm from all that clusters around me and space that sits outside my immediate needs.

In this place I am amongst my 'other' friends. The greenery around me seems so distant from the busyness of my work, family, and various preparations for creative experiences. I ask for a touch of the other; the language of the landscape and the poetry of the breeze in the trees around me. Here, with only a slight breath that moves the leaves of bramble and oak I absorb the cool stillness. Stillness like the presence of the silent trees whose sense of time seems to belong in another perspective - their slowness of being shames our competitive spirit.

And the song of the birds carries through the dimming light - not songs of high energy like in the early morning, but songs of passing, patience and subtlety.

How small I am in this place, where tallness draws from the undisturbed earth and which is reflected in my new expressions of artwork. How weak is my ability to exist here unaided. How much I have lost though my ancestors and the desire of the world to take nature away from existence.

One day I will return.

I leave, settled.

I give thanks to this place of blessing.

* * * * *

I see four hares as I leave the wood.

Reflections

2009-07-16T21:11:00.001+01:00

I'm sitting in the summerhouse on a cool and overcast July evening. I'm not sure what I am going to write about, I will see where I am lead.

Direction
I've thought a lot about direction over the past few months, mainly in terms of career and personal development, and have found it a bit stressful as I really don't know what to do and so much interests me!

Creative Energy
My focus now seems to have returned to my creative side. Perhaps because I know I ought to make the best use of the warm summer months when being creative is easier. There is more time and space to appreciate all that the earth can show me and I know it will pass by all too quickly. I seem to have found some positive focus for my own personal artwork. For me, things seem to evolve slowly and I seem to be feeling a sense of a more definite connection between various things around me and my creative energy. I won't expand on it here as I don't want to try and spend writing time describing things that are very visual. Through my job designing greetings card I have taken my artistic skills into new territory and I feel things are beginning to merge in my creative side that incorporates nature, spirituality, gardening, imagination, drawing, sculpture and much more.

Blog
Being inspired to write and to keep adding to this blog is not always easy and I could so easily give up! I don't feel as though it has had its time though, I think I have to dig deeper to get material and to keep the mind thinking and the soul nurtured. I am not in a very stimulating environment that keeps the blog-fire burning! Time is also precious.

Prayer
I'll end this note with a sort of prayer. Excuse any vagueness, but I am always cautious about bearing some specific details or mentioning names in public.

There is a stillness in the garden
a stillness that awaits, listens, welcomes and yet
bears strength and growth that is unseen
by the minds that are excited and seek stimulation.
May my spirit dwell in the garden of my soul,
to be calm, to not anger, to not worry, to not grow weary:
may there always be a silent inner strength
to be who I am meant to be, to grow,
to create, to love, to honour and to respect.

To all persons, human and non,
may I give myself freely and yet with wisdom,
understanding and strength.

To my family, J and E
I pray that we will be close and loving
like the creative love that gifts us with this earth.
When tired, sick, angry or frustrated
may peace fall like the raindrops
that have now gently begun to fall
upon the garden around me -
touching, cooling, refreshing, healing:
a presence that absorbs all incongruent energy
giving freely and with the knowledge of
its passing and revealing the new.

I ask for blessings
and the welcome of others
to guide and inspire us
in the dreams of our souls.

July Morning

2009-07-13T21:10:00.001+01:00

(I am sitting at the edge of some fields near Lilley)

Morning clouds reveal an increasing blueness from above their grey, rain-laden shrouds that hugged the summer landscape over night.

A warm westerly wind waves the oak branches above me, pushing eastwards to leave a dampened earth that begins to give up its moisture to the warming breath of air.

Grasses and cow parsley, with seed-heads gold and blackening brown, fill the verges and bow to the promising sun.

A slow slug delights on the dampness of a carpet of dying grass.

Wren, skylark, crow, yellowhammer, tits and others give their song to that of the breeze and a distant, high up plane.

Hover flies dart and zigzag around the grasses and black flies buzz their presence in an instant.

The golden barley, with down-turned heads and long fragile awns will soon be food for the growling combine. I hold and smell their presence, soon to dry to golden treasure, or so the farmer hopes.

The hedges, trees and woods are now an almost uniform deep green - like the single colour upon an artist's palette with just the shadows and highlights in separate tones. The greens are merging; the flowering plants are merging into their golds and browns. The highlight of summer is the culmination of the flowering season - diversity becomes one in the processes of post-flowering and seed-setting. Softness of growth becomes hardness of seed and brittle stems. This is a time of preparation and formation, an awaiting of the harvest of fruit and seed.

Purple is all around me in the subtle light that waits the full sunlight that will later bathe the land: blackberry flowers, hogweed seedheads, goosegrass seeds and leaves, thistle flowers and rosebay willowherb.

Birthplace

2009-06-25T20:57:00.002+01:00

A few days ago I found myself driving along a Worcestershire hilltop and then turning into a small country lane that would take me down a steep road towards the farm where I was born.

I hadn't been back for a few years and it was a hugely emotional moment as memories of my childhood came flooding back. I had my daughter with me and it was the first time I had taken her there. After a good descent the road levels out at the farm to give superb views over towards Clee Hill that rises majestically from the distant Teme Valley and Tenbury Wells. The valley bottom is still much further on but here is a tiny hamlet here of one working farm, a chapel, a few houses and our 'farm'. The surrounding fields, mostly taken over by surrounding farms, now probably have little memory of the acres of apple trees that once stood on this quiet hillside. Although the house has been altered and the surrounding buildings are used for domestic/office uses or to stable horses, the essence of the place is still there. The first nine or so years of my life where spent in the great farmhouse and in the surrounding fields. Such freedom I then had to play and explore and to be part of the local farming community.

It is a life that seems so distant now. We all have to move on. Time does not hold us captive to anything but our thoughts and memories. We are transient in so many ways. I cannot relive my past. I can only experience the present in the context of past experiences. The farm was my birthplace, literally, and my formative childhood. It held me through those early experiences that made me who I am today. My journeying this year seems to be taking me to places that are emotionally thoughtful, longing for change/development and, hopefully, taking me to a more mature awareness of my path. Going back to my 'home' area is always a struggle emotionally as I seem to have a deep attachment to that part of the world. I probably have my father to blame for that! I feel as though I want to draw upon the energy it gives me, but I am not sure how to do that, or if it is right. It is a creative energy of poetry, art, growing/farming, landscape, growth, nature, and belonging. It can be easy to wish that some parts of life had been different and that we could choose an 'alternative universe', but we know we can't. I am here today, where I am, because that is how things are. How I face the future, that I can change or influence.

Visiting the farm was hard - perhaps I feel a deep sense of grief - but it was enlightening in a positive way. It gave me a sense of energy that if I want to change, I have to initiate it. I can't hang on to the past but I have to ensure that when all my 'presents' fade into the past, they enhance my memories and soul in a way that will make me feel that I have achieved something.

The Hovering Kestrel

2009-06-14T20:34:00.003+01:00

I watched a Kestrel this morning. It was a warm and sunny morning and I had just entered a smallish field of rough meadow - full of tall grasses and flowers/plants. A kestrel hovered not far away. High above the field, at about tree top level, it was facing the oncoming warm breeze and making continual fine adjustments with the delicate fluttering of its wings. It would glide to a new location, hover, survey the ground below then move on a little. Then it would sweep back over the field to begin a new transect and begin its search from a new location. I watched it for around ten minutes before it moved away to perch in the nearby trees.

Is there a lesson an patience and perseverance here I wonder?

On reading a little on the web I discover that although hovering requires more energy than, say, gliding it can be more productive food wise. Apparently they can see into the ultra-violet which makes tracking the urine trails of their favourite food, the field vole, easier.

Song of a Robin

2009-06-14T20:09:00.000+01:00

A robin sang beside me one recent evening, its song filling the cool, still and darkening air. Why, my friend, do you sing so close to me? Surely you can see me just a few feet away writing in my sketchbook, whilst you sing your presence from atop the trampoline safety net? You have chosen that spot from which to give the garden your song this evening. Your tuneful phrases weave through the other sounds that I notice: the sound of traffic, the rumble of aeroplanes at the airport, dogs barking, the songs of other birds in the neighbourhood, the subdued deep thump, thump of next door's party music and the chattering conversation of friends among friends.

I hardly noticed you at first, but now I am aware of you. Your song was almost too loud and sharp for me to focus upon, but now I welcome you as your presence seems almost incompatible with the man-made sounds of man in the landscape. But then you choose to depart, to leave your perch and head for the top of a nearby tree; and then you are gone. You gave me a moment of peace and otherness that only nature can bring. You leave me a memory that lingers on amongst the other discordent sounds of the evening.

Bracken

2009-06-07T10:09:00.001+01:00

The woodland floor is damp from the morning rain. The soft mass of leaf litter and other decaying organic matter forms a cool carpet beneath the tall oaks. I sit facing a small clearing and look out over the tall bracken that arises from the earth and uncurls towards the sky. Its dark green stems rise straight up with large fronds branching out horizantally. The apex is formed by a tight mass of intricately curled up new growth that will rapidly unwrap into the woodland space. Now, at around 4ft tall, this mass of strong verticals contrasts with the diagonals and horizantals of nearby bramble plants which tangle through the field layer. These are perennial whereas the bracken will entirely die down to soil level at the end of each year.

I look more closely at the bracken stems. I did down into the deep leaf litter, and see where it arises from an bulbous part of the rhizome that reaches throughout, and deep into, the woodland floor. There can be a sizeable amount of the plant buried beneath the surface and we see only a superficial part of it. I break open one of the main stems. It is tough and can easily cut the skin. There It is made up of many large strong fibers which separate to reveal a thick syrupy sap that covers my fingers. There must be a large amount of moisture held within these young plants. Some of last years decaying stems are still standing and these are now dry and brittle and can easily be crushed in my fingers.

The large flat and spreading fronds begin to shade all the woodland floor - taking advantage of the available light before the leaf canopy fully forms above them. The fronds have a strong mid stem and then the soft and delicate parts of the leaf reach outwards. They are beautiful to touch. The outer edges of the fronds are a more yellowy green than the main parts of the frond. They are almost like huge feathers.

Bracken always feels cool and has a wonderful fragrance. I wonder what ecological value they have. I do some research on the internet at home and find out more details that I'm not going to repeat here.

They are plants of strength and beauty but, like the bramble, they persevere, they compete, they dominate and form an important part of the ecology where they are present by changing both micro and macro habitats in may ways. Here they will significantly add to the biomass of the woodland and through their decay will add to the organic matter in the ground layer. It has no predators and so is a great coloniser where conditions are right.

Hawthorns

2009-05-30T07:45:00.005Z

We recently had a holiday in the small village of Farnborough just north of Banbury. It was mainly a time to be outdoors, going for walks and spend time with the family. I didn't find it easy to create space for anything really deep and meaningful. I had a few walks by myself, but these were mainly a time to just enjoy the exercise, to try and do some drawing and just to "be" away from the office. There was one moment on one of my walks when I really felt something tug at my deeper spiritual psyche and this is described here.

On a warm, sunny, still morning I find myself walking over a field of pasture with grazing cattle scattered around me. As I walk down off the top and over the crest of a small rise I come across a group of around fifty or so large hawthorn trees that seem to draw me into them. I wonder why these trees are still standing here? There is a patch of gorse not far away, but otherwise this is a large field of probably quite ancient pasture bounded by old and mature hedges. There is a farm just on one side of the field and I wonder if this patch of ground has a long history of settlement and a long disappeared more functional use. Did this patch of trees once cover the whole hill? Was there an old barn or house that once stood here? These trees feel like a site of antiquity and memory, but I seen not direct evidence of any building having been here.

Here is a place that draws me into its presence - to sit down at the base of a tree, to get out my sketchpad, to observe and to write.

The hawthorns stand amidst the new green spring grass, their heavy and fragrant blossom bright in the sunshine. Each tree has its own character and presence within the group. Their trunks are old and twisted - some single others an intertwining of multiple stems that form many variations in shape and form. It is like each tree has a different pattern to follow in its design. For some, the trunks rise straight up, others have gentle clockwise turns - some even seem to have knots with branches criss-crossing over and under each other. Some look like a thick rope of woven cords.

Hawthorns are often a symbol of dark and impenetrable hedges and thickets but here I can walk freely on the grassy openness between the trees. Here, cows will seek shelter from the sun or the rain and there may be rabbit holes here and there. The earth may be always damp and cool here. In winter, hawthorns can create an unwelcoming place with cold dark shapes, defensive thorns and bare soil beneath black rotting leaves.

Apart from a gentle breeze in the leaves and blossom this place makes little sound. In the distant hedges birds sing and the gentle murmur of the M40 a couple of miles away always intrudes on this landscape.

There is a solitary oak tree in from of my sitting place. Like the hawthorns it is misshapen and seems out of place here. Its main trunk lies at around 45 degrees and then divides into double trunks, one of which bend down to the ground. The churned up mud at its base shows that it is used as a scratching post by the cattle and, indeed, there are patches where the bark has been totally removed.

I touch the trunk of one tree, examining it more closely. Devoid of the sharp thorns that cover the branches and twigs the bark is soft and warm and strongly textured - home to spiders and other invertebrates.

A small group of buttercups add a touch of yellow to the ground which is strewn with cowpats, fallen blossom and hoof holes in the soft earth. Perhaps a small spring arises here, just enough to dampen the soil.

A few chaffinches dart amongst the branches around me, singing unseen.

I give thanks to the place and leave. I don't know why this place attracted me. Some places just seem to be a source of inspiration. For me, it isn't usually a beautiful view that inspires me or something else of wonder in the natural world. It is sensing something in what could be very ordinary and missed by many people. Perhaps it was just the shape and form of the trees that I perceived as something unusual; perhaps it was a sense of discovery; or perhaps a deep tuning in to a moment when the boundaries between spiritual worlds became thin.

* * * * *

Later on my walk I pass within about six feet of two young fox cubs staring a me from an earthen hole in a bank under a hedgerow.

As I stand in a wheat field, a hare appears and walks towards me, stopping every so often to eat a leaf of the growing wheat. Motionless I watch it. It almost seems oblivious to me and quietly passes by about ten feet away. Another close encounter with a hare.

Wheelbarrow Oven

2009-05-04T18:39:00.005Z

Today I built a small oven in the garden. I had salvaged some bricks from a recent bit of wall demolition in the garden and I used these, plus some chicken wire and tiles, to build a small oven on my wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow I obtained from a pile of fly-tipping on a local road last year and yesterday I had bought a bag of charcoal from Croft Castle in Herefordshire. I made some bread dough and was successful in baking four bread rolls and also cooking a barbeque for the family evening meal. Although only a small oven, it worked very well but I need to be more careful about stabilising the temperature. The first two rolls took an hour to cook whereas the second two burnt in under 20 minutes! The barbeque worked well: sausages, home-made burgers, warmed ciabatta rolls and a fresh salad.

I had been wanting to do something like this for a long time and, as I am currently thinking about the element 'Fire', this was an ideal project to attempt.

Drumming on Croft Ambrey

2009-05-04T09:10:00.002Z

On Sunday 3rd May at about 8.30am I arrived at the car park at Croft Castle. It was empty which was a good sign as I thought I might then have the chance to be up on the hill by myself. It is the Bank Holiday weekend and there will soon be many people visiting the castle and the hill.

I walk up to the top of the woods and take off my walking boots and socks. The long dew-covered grass which I first walk though is freezing cold but on the main path the shorter grass and dry earth is much more comfortable. I have my drum with me and I begin a meditation walk that takes me up to the hillfort, around the main rampart and up onto the top of the hill. It is cool, but the sunshine is bright and clear between the clouds. It is an amazing morning. The light is so clear and the colours are beautiful. I look carefully at the views, trees and the landscape around me as I walk slowly and steadily, carried by the gentle beating of the drum. The drum performs superbly in the warming sunshine. Its sound seems to resonate with the wood of the trees. I watch a buzzard in the distance and try and work out how to mirror its flight with my drum. This is a wonderful place to be and, as I complete my playing and meditation, the first of other walkers start appearing on the footpaths around the hill. I set my camera up on a sock and walking boot and take some pictures of myself with my drum.

I wonder when the last time a drum was heard in this landscape. I am sure it would have been common in Iron Age times, but who else has drummed up here? It is a superb location to listen, to watch, to observe and to meditate. The views from the hill are magnificent and, on a bright spring morning like today when the leaves are coming out and the landscape is in full spring awakening, they are probably at their best.

Hopton Titterhill: Part 2 - Sunrise

2009-05-04T09:08:00.004Z

Continuation of previous blog entry...

Sleeping in the car was uncomfortable, but well worth trying even though I only had arund a couple of hours sleep. I got up at 4am just as the sky was beginning to lighten and decided to climb up to the top of Hopton Titterhill. The sky had clouded over but there were a few promising signs that it might be clearing. Apart from the hooting of an owl and the singing of a skylark over a nearby field, the woods were fairly silent. I could easily find my way in the dim light up the forestry tracks and I eventually walked out into the clearing at the top of the hill. The light was improving rapidly now and I climbed up the final steep slope onto the top of the sort of mound that forms the hilltop. The air around me was now filled with birdsong - robins, blackbirds and anything else. The sounds were wonderful. The grass was heavily dew laden and small cobwebs were scattered everywhere. Bilberries were in flower - beautifully delicate pink bell-like flowers on yellow-green leaves. An occasional bumble bee could be seen buzzing around and braving the coolness of the morning. It wasn't too warm. I walked down from the summit and followed a small circular route of forest tracks and mountain bike trails back up to the top again.

Although the cloud cleared from above me and to the West to leave a clear blue sky, a long bank of cloud to the East obscured much of the sunrise. Hills to the West a few miles away did see the morning sun on their tops but I only had a few minutes of fleeting sunlight to awaken my hill. The cloud was increasing and it didn't look as though I would be seeing much sun for a while now. I played my drum for a while but the cold and damp made it feel as though I was playing a pancake! Some warmth would have been good as my hands were frozen.

Although the view from the top of the hill is mostly obscured by trees this was a great place to visit on a May morning.

Saw blackbird, blue tit, buzzard, chaffinch, goldfinch. Wood sorrel was everywhere.

Hopton Titterhill: Part 1 - The Journey

2009-05-04T09:05:00.000Z

Hopton Titterhill is a hill a few miles west of Leintwardine in south Shropshire. Like many of the hills in the area it has been planted up with conifers but the top remains open. Here there is a small but steep rocky hilllock that rises out of a patch of open heathland of mainly grass, billberries and bracken. Much of the view has been obscured by the surrounding trees, but it is still a spectacular location commanding views for miles around. My Father would have taken me up here as a teenager and it would a have been a much more open place back then. Now I am making another visit to the hill to await the sunrise on a May morning.

It is Friday evening on the 1st of May and I leave Luton at 7pm on what feels like a mini pilgrimage. I am always amazed at how long it takes to prepare to go away, even for a couple of nights and now, after a busy week at work and an almost impossible wait, I set off up the M1. This is my time, my time to enter a wilderness, my time to journey and my time to see what nature will bring to me.

It is cloudy, with sunny intervals. I drive steadily with the busy traffic, seeming to head towards the setting sun and a distant clearing western sky where a bright band of cloudless sky hugs the horizon. At one point the sunshine is dazzling even though the rain clouds are dark above me and raindrops cover the windscreen. I am surrounded by the brightest of light, turning newly formed leaves into almost un-natural greens and fields of oil-seed rape reflecting an impossible yellow. A few miles further and the brightness has gone - a blue landscape emerges under rainfilled clouds that have hidden the sun. In the dimming light everyhting has turned a shade of green-blue, all apart from yet more of the swathes of yellow. .

As I pass Coventry, another band of brightness on the horizon guides my way and a lightening sky shows huge cumulous clouds. Unfortunately I have to keep my eyes on the road more around here, but the last transformation occurs as I follow the M42 west around Birmingham to the M5. The great billowing clouds seem to flatten out into flat black forms with a lighter, clear atmosphere behind. These are the last clouds I see this evening. The light is fading fast and I have to concentrate as I join the twisting road the Tenbury Wells at Ombersley which seems quite busy with traffic.

Finally, as it approaches 11pm, I reach the hamlet of Hopton Castle and I can just make out the dark form of Hopton Titterhill ahead of me. I continue along the narrow country lane up into the hills and then turn onto the forestry track ascending to my destination. I drive up the rough track for about half a mile or so and enter the forest. There is a clear, starlit sky above me and, almost directly ahead of me and leading my way is a half moon lighting the landscape.

I park in the car park, eat a croissant and boil some water on my small gas stove for a hot chocolate. Then I sit to write my notes on a picnic bench by torchlight.

Here I am in a forest bathed in moonlight. As the moon dips down behind the trees so the long shadows of the pines begin to fade into a deeper darkness. All is still, just a whisper of a slight breeze surrounds me, but I can hear a more distant ripple of the trees on the more exposed higher edges of the forest. I can hear a sheep, a dog, an owl. Something patters by in the nearby trees and then runs off - presumably scared by my light. A very distant aeroplane rumbles past way above me. Then all is quiet. A few occasional noises of birds in the trees and the scratching of my pen on my sketchpad. The trees are still whispering in the darkness, almost barely audible. I almost struggle to hear anything - I feel my body is making too much noise.

This evening has been a time of journeying, of seeing changing weather patterns and observing the light and the clouds around me and how they interact with the landscape. By covering a large distance myself I probably saw more varied cloud formations this evening than I would have done if I had stayed in one location.

The Energy of Spring

2009-04-26T21:30:00.001Z

A sunny and surprisingly warm start to the day finds me sitting beside a tall and mature hedgerow overlooking fields near Hitchin. Most nights recently have still been quite cold, even though the days have been warm. There has been little rain over the past few weeks so the ground is quite dry - on the surface anyway. This feels like the first warm spring morning although there is a coolish breeze.

The chestnut trees on the hill in front of me are well in leaf now and the remaining tress in the landscape are forming a distinct greenish tinge. In the past couple of weeks since I have been out there has been a dramatic change in the landscape as Spring weaves her creative dance over the earth. Bluebells carpet the woods and hedgerows are bursting forth with nettles, ground ivy, red dead nettle, white dead nettle, hedge garlic and 'cow parsley' (or whatever it is).

The grassed edge to the field here is buzzing with flies, hoverflies and other vague unidentifiables whilst a beetle and a woodlouse are spotted in the grass beside me. Life has exploded into the landscape. A white butterfly flickers by; I am sure I can hear some long-tailed tits nearby; I see a blue tit and several chaffinches; pheasants in the field and a couple of distant hares. Elderflower buds are forming well.

There is so much energy in the landscape now. I am now in a month of thinking about Fire - my final element to ponder over, in my four month vague study of the elements. The sun is providing so much energy to the landscape today. From the distant sun the radiation is pouring though the hazy atmosphere onto the landscape, warming the earth beneath my feet and supplying energy for the photosynthesis of plants. And yet the amount of cosmic light that reaches our small planet is only a fraction of that produced by the Sun. So much is just expended into the depths of space, and yet here, there is one planet that uses that radiant energy to create and evolve life. It is placed in what is probably a very unique location in space in order to receive just the right amount of energy to enable successful growth of life. The earth reflects and absorbs the light to such varying degrees. Soil, vegetation, water, clouds, roads and buildings etc all interact with the sun's energy in so many varying ways. Perhaps it is the leaves of plants that make the best use of the light energy via photosynthesis. I am surrounded by greenness that reaches out to the sun.

I watch several birds flying over the field: a crow, and something small and faster. I acknowledge that this requires energy expenditure. We humans like to be warm. We like to seek out warm sunny days, to our warm-bloodiedness the sun is welcome.

So much energy goes into growing crops in the landscape around me. Tractors and farm machinery burn fuel to enable them to pull ploughs, cultivate the soil, spray chemicals and harvest crops. Fertilizers and chemicals all required energy input into their manufacture as well as their application. Harvesting and processing of crops requires a large energy input to, in effect, enable the energy capture in the seeds by photosynthesis to be extracted by other purposes - feed or processing. There is always a transfer of energy from one form to another and of course 'entropy increases as matter and energy in the universe degrade to an ultimate state of inert uniformity' (a web definition of entropy).

This hedgerow is a concentration of energy capture and production. An organic system for taking the suns energy and producing the physical structure of the plants around me. It requires the presence of the other main elements, water, air and earth, to form the living structures of the trees and undergrowth. The whole hedgerow is designed to maximise the potential of the light and to enable a diverse range of plants to co-exist with each other on this sun-facing edge in unique niche habitats. It is Gaia working at her best. Somehow it seems as if the potential for the earth to be creative is so often ignored. The large flat mono-culture fields may be highly productive in crop terms and have a maximum output economically for production and harvesting, but it isn't how nature works. The earth may have a huge potential for creating growth and diversity but not for generating profit.

Easter and Sustainability

2009-04-24T19:59:00.002Z

Firstly, a few random notes:

Easter church sermon notes: Surrounded by love that awakens in the light : man extinguished the light of the world : Man put to death Jesus : Man put to death creation and nature : we killed the light : the Easter love that grows from the earth and becomes a sacrifice for all : what response does this demand form me? : What is the sacrifice?

I am reminded of Satish Kumar's great analogy of the apple tree that provides an abundance of fruit. Many varied organisms will feed upon its apples and there is no discrimination on the part of the tree as to who should eat them. It freely gives to all who are hungry: birds, wasps, humans, fungi, slugs - a huge diversity of life will devour the fruit and release the precious seeds inside.

Sustainability is a word that is used a huge amount these days in many varied contexts. How can we relate to it? How does it tie in with the apple tree, and how can it be linked to the Easter story of love, sacrifice, death, resurrection and new growth? How is God linked to sustainability, the ongoing creation/existence of the earth and His intervention in the process of human evolution?

The culture we live in is geared to the supply of products that meet our wants and needs. We are always wanting more. Perhaps, until recently, there has been no real sense of there ever being a finite supply of food, clothes, entertainment, computer games, holidays and anything we may desire (for the majority of the Western population at least). The recession we are now in is, I hope, awakening many more people to the realities of our lifestyle based around economics of money, meeting needs, resource exploitation and selfishness. Development of a modern society has been based around fulfilling the needs that people have, There is little sense of doing with what we've got.

I wondered, as we are part of the divinely created universe, why God has allowed us to deplete resources and expand beyond our abilities. From my Christian perspective and background, I feel very much as if God has left us to get into the mess we are in. There seems to be something slightly amiss when I think about how God is perceived as a personal saviour and friend at an intimate level and yet globally seems to be absent. God is always in the 'people', rarely in the 'earth'. God is in the micro of our lives, but not in the macro, one could say? A more ecological view of God readdresses the balance. You become aware of just how linked your personal experience of living is connected to the bigger global picture.

Does the future look bleak? To every generation the future may look sacry - it is always a place of change, uncertainty and unknowing. The mechanics of society and culture are deeply engaged in a set process, visionaries seek alternatives to the present way of doing things, but how do you motivate and mobilise change across a country, millions of people and systems that exist.

I am uncertain of my role in all of this. What is my part in being a ecological self seeking to change the world for the better?

Going back to Easter, there may be a sense in which the crucifixion of Jesus represents the crucifixion of our earth. Exploitation and ignorance put to death that which supports, teaches, heals and sustains us. Nature becomes that which must be sacrificed, but it knows that it can never be fully put to death. It will always survive.

And what about the role of, and connections of, humans to Nature? Sometimes it seems as though we have evolved beyond that which the planet was designed for. We no longer seem to be living in harmony with the earth. I wonder if we are really part of it now - have we become like cancer cells that grow and grow and take over the host body? Who knows.

Listening to the Landscape

2009-04-18T21:47:00.001Z

Hoo Bit Nature Reserve, Easter Monday

It is early in the morning, about 8.30am, and I am sitting on a stile overlooking Hoo Bit Nature Reserve. This is a small patch of chalk grassland tucked away in the middle of the woods above Pegsdon. It is cool, misty and damp and it could either rain or turn out warm and sunny.

What can I learn about communication from this landscape?

I am surrounded by birdsong. I would like to have been up here several hours ago to hear the main dawn chorus, but I didn't make the effort. The air is still filled with the songs and sounds of many birds. This is a place where birds have the space to communicate without constraint. There is singing, cooing; pheasants, tits, pigeons and a wealth of songbirds whose melodies and utterances carry across the surrounding woodland and into the morning air. Sounds that seem natural, no birdsong seems out of place in this landscape.

Human noises, whether the chatter of people talking, or that of distant cars and aeroplanes, would be an intrusion in this soundscape. The song of birds is never, I assume, full of idle chit-chat; or created just for the fun of it; or caused as a by product of other activities (in the sense of how we create noise by driving cars just to get us from one place to another). I expect that, for birds, their song is truly a matter of survival - whether for mating, feeding, warning or territory marking. We humans have no significant predators in the natural environment here and so our communication would have significant differences, methods and impacts here. Humans would always be talking and chattering and many may be oblivious to listening and really observing to what was going on around them as they passed by here.

So much birdsong and yet most of the birds are invisible to my eye, hidden away in the trees and undergrowth. Air is such an effective medium for the carrying of sound and birds are perhaps adapted to using it more than animals do. How many animals do I hear in places like this? I am aware of the presence of deer, rabbits, squirrels, mice, stoats and other animals by more subtle clues, but birds just want to shout it out! They are a very vocal component part of the landscape.

I notice how noisy pigeons are when they fly around - wings are quite "flappy"!

Trees and plants are almost the reverse of birds, highly visible and yet totally silent to our senses. In the grass are some violets, almost unseen at first glance but then I become aware of the delicate purple flowers. These must be first of the grassland flowers to appear here before the grasses really begin to get growing. Cowslip buds and spotted orchid leaves indicate some flowers that will appear later. I wonder how the violets are pollinated? Some plants and small and inconspicuous. Others, like the bramble, are aggressive and vigorous colonisers. Thorny and untouchable, yet producing a wealth of flowers and fruit to the benefit of other wildlife.

And the trees - still and silent. Crowded in the woodland, but yet always finding their own space. Buds are beginning to open and varied green tinges are beginning to cover bare branches. I wonder what a tree communicates or symbolises to a bird? Perch, food reserve, roost site, song post, territory marker, nest site, security...? Trees can be very symbolic to humans - often in green imagery and art the human form is depicted as blending with that of a tree. Connection? Spirit?

A flock of pigeons rises noisily from a distant oilseed rape field. The 50 or so birds twist and turn as a group before landing again in a different part of the crop. How do birds fly in groups like that?

Two male blackbirds appear briefly at the edge of the woodland, squawking twisting through the undergrowth - a display of male aggression?

The ecology of the landscape is a total interaction between the elements, organic and inorganic. It is always changing. Every part of the landscape here is managed by man somehow, whether that has been in the past or now in the present. The whole ecosystem and it component parts revolves around this intensively farmed landcape. Even this nature reserve is managed by the clearence of invasive silver birch, the fence built all around it and the conversion of an old reservoir into a bat hibernaculum.

The landscape has to accept the weather and adapt to the changes that we impose upon it - within the limits of what it can tolerate of course. It changes all the time, one big organic system where everything has an effect on everything else.

Here I can learn about being still, observing, learning, touching, coaching, encouraging, nurturing, not damaging, clearing, space, colour, inspiration, individual needs, networks and communication.

* * * * *

I had been up here last week and one reason for my returning again so soon was to try and identify some birds I had seen then. At first I thought they might have been something exotic, but I am sure they were just Jays. For most of my time here I heard nothing unusual and I thought I might have been disappointed, but then the group appeared again, flying from tree to tree and traversing the woods around me. What first had caught my attention was the variety of sounds they made. I almost felt I was in the depths of a tropical jungle with sort of whooping, hooping noises and other loud grating/see-sawing sounds. It felt a bit spooky - a small flock of medium sized birds that seemed to command the woods around them and take hold of the soundscape for themselves. I have always known the typical Jay alarm call, but here there seemed a variety of bubbling and chattering noises as well as a loud call that just filled the space around the trees. The birds were always moving and always keeping well ahead of me so I could only really identify them in flight.

Ecological Communication

2009-04-03T20:56:00.001Z

I have always been interested in how I can develop my communication skills. I've been on a few courses and have a pile of varied books on my bookcase on the subject, but somehow I wondered if there might be deeper and more creative way to enhance my skills. Somehow, I think I need a personal motivation to take things further. It occurred to me that, as I feel I can relate to nature so well, perhaps this is the doorway to exploring the subject from a more relational and perspective. This might bring about better results. I know I have read much about how the natural environment can improve our health, well-being and confidence. Somehow I would like to build a stronger foundation based on nature, ecology and improved methods of communication. It is about improving the way I relate to people, work colleagues, friends and to build networks with those around me. Isn't this the core of natural relationships between the elements of the natural world? If I can understand more about how these relationships work, the dynamics of them and their relationship at an ecological, spiritual, emotional and physical level, then I am sure I can bring about a change in the way I work.

I don't wish to advocate a romantic environmentalism approach in any of my thinking even though it is easy to do so because being out in nature gives us, usually, a rather pleasant feeling. From a more deep ecology/Gaia based view of interconnectedness, then communication is a key factor is living sustainably and respectfully with and within the natural world. Once you become aware of your presence and belonging on the earth from an ecocentric viewpoint it can become important to establish a personal mission of communication - between yourself and your soul, between yourself and others and between yourself and the earth.

Why do I bother with all of this? Is it all a bit airy-fairy? Well - it interests me and I enjoy thinking about it. It works for me.

Having drawn up a rough initial mind-map of the possibilities I realised this could be quite a large project. How should I progress with it? Is it worth the time and energy in doing so? What am I really trying to achieve?

I was looking out of the cafe this morning at a small tree planted on the edge of the industrial estate and wondered about what it could teach me about communication. Perhaps it could represent the following qualities: stillness, presence, grounding in its environment, stability in adversity, interconnection with the earth and other elements, able to hold its own conversation... qualities that I need in my life and in my relationships with others.

Goat Willow (Salix caprea)

2009-04-03T20:51:00.005Z

This attractive Goat Willow male catkin was in full flower in the lakes at Langford (Beds) a few days ago. I tried to photograph some of the many bumble bees feeding on the flowers but they were reluctant to come within camera distance and. if they did, I couldn't get a decent picture.

Oughton Head: Water Meditation

2009-03-23T21:02:00.005Z

In my attempt to think about water as one of the four key elements that occurs in the universe I looked at a map of my local area to see if I could find an interesting watery place. Whilst looking at the area round Hitchin, where I knew there were several small rivers, I decided to explore a place that was unknown to me and which turned out to be Oughton Head Nature Reserve. Oddly enough I didn't know of its existence even though I have cycled all round bridleways and roads near to it on many occasions. My search for water led me to a beautiful place of reedbeds, springs, trees and a reasonable expanse of water which seemed quite unusual for this part of the world.

In a recent blog I mentioned the geology of the chalk landscape around here and at Oughton Head there is a superb example of where the water from the chalk hills around Offley and Lilley emerges from underground. There is quite a steep sided tree-lined gully at the spring head, then there is then quite a wide and shallow river that extends through the trees to the main part of the nature reserve. On the morning of my visit I had cycled there over some bridleways that I hadn't been on before and so this was quite a day for new discoveries. The sky was clear with bright sunshine but a chilly breeze blew in exposed places. Celandines, violets, daffodils and trees full of blossom were appearing everywhere. Spring had definitely sprung.

At Oughton Head I find a place to sit beside the waters edge and begin to write:

At the spring head, a few hundred yards upstream from where I sit, the sparkling clear waters emerge into the bright and welcoming sunshine that is awakening the winter landscape. My first impressions were of a place of beauty but also of a place well used by the public. There were well worn paths down to the waters edge, several paths though the trees and a reasonable amount of rubbish (car tyres, bottles and bits of metal) and branches had been thrown into the water. It is amazing how water always attracts people. A place like this is a huge natural playground, presumably enjoyed by many young people. On this Sunday morning there were many people out and about: just sitting, walking their dogs, riding horses, out on their bikes with families or just enjoying a gentle stroll.

It is into this landscape that the clear, fresh spring water, permeating through the white chalk for goodness knows how long, emerges. It is welcomed by the sunlight, by trees, by birdsong, by people and by our rubbish. I am aware, however, that the water may not be as pure as one might imagine. Has the chalk filtered out all the chemicals from fertilizers or from road-side ditches I wonder? Water is all too often not viewed with the reverence that it deserves. It is a sacred and integral part not just of the landscape, but also ourselves and the whole of life depends on it. It may well be a convenient waste disposal system but it is also a living ecosystem that is apart of our bodies.

The water is so clear here, it isn't often I see such clear water in this part of the country. The bottom of the river is only one or two feet deep, but about 10-20 ft wide or more in places. A breeze ripples across the surface of the water, the tiny waves casting a myriad of fine lines of light across the chalky river bottom. As the wind strengthens and declines I watch the patterns made both on the water's surface and below - always changing, always moving, always interacting with the river bank and other objects in the water. Patterns that shift and change infinitely. Shimmering reflections are also cast onto the bark of overhanging alder trunks.

This huge rippled mirror seems almost unnaturally flat in the landscape. A barrier between the subterranean earth and the mirrored infiniteness of time and space above it. A boundary between two unknowns. When we look into the water we see down towards the deepest depths, but also up into the reflected sky and beyond. Both merge. And the mirror moves, gently and silently - a huge mass of water in graceful gentleness. I scoop up a handful of water and smell its fragrance (but I don't drink it).

I wonder how much life is in the water here, particularly on the more undisturbed parts away from splashing dogs and playful children?

I'm getting cold now, so will move on.

***
Azolla filiculoides (Water Fern) - reddish carpet, like duckweed, on the water in nature reserve.

Water in the Landscape

2009-03-16T21:09:00.005Z

A sunny, spring like day finds me sitting up on the hill above Barton Le Clay, and then in farmland near Lilley, to reflect on water in the landscape.

Barton Hills:
I wonder how much of the landscape around me is affected by water. There is a fairly clear sky above me with hazy cirrus clouds and the inevitable white vapour trails that scratch across the blueness. Water put there by nature and water put there by man.

The edge of the Chilterns here is quite a spectacular sight with the land dropping down steeply below me in a series of deep gulleys that cut through the chalk. The steep slopes are covered with the barest of short grasses and I wonder how this chalk escarpment was originally formed; what action of water has taken place over the millennia to shape this landscape? I found a small leaflet on the web about the geology of the area and it described how the landscape here was formed. Originally the area would have been under water but geological movement meant the seas lowered and the land folded to create the chalk escarpment. The action of a huge ice sheet that covered the landscape and erosion (around half a million years ago) sculpted the chalk ridge into the current landscape.

Hawthorns cling to soil here, perhaps rooting in ground disturbed by rabbits and their burrows. I think about how rain falls on the soil, is taken up by the hawthorns, helps form their berries which will subsequently be eaten by birds. Many animals and birds only get water through the food they eat and this must certainly be the case for all the rabbits around here grazing on the fine chalkland grass.

The ground must be very permeable to water and able to hold vast quantities of water within its structure. There seem little signs of erosion so the chalk must absorb large quantities of rain quite quickly. In fact it is a freeze-thaw cycle causing soil creep that apparently causes soil erosion here, and the numerous small parallel ledges that run along the hillside carrying large masses of soil downwards. There is a small spring and stream at the bottom of the gulley I gather (where the water hits a more impermeable and clayey Lower Chalk) but I haven't seen it yet. The chalk itself is a product of ocean-dwelling organisms. The rabbits seem to be able to dig in the top soil and chalk here quite easily. Piles of soil and small crumbly pieces of chalk litter the grassland. Perhaps the soil here is reasonably deep, though on the nearby fields the white of the chalk is evident on the top most parts of the field where the plough has dug into the surface chalk.

There are piles of horse manure (I assume) up by a fence. A good source of organic matter to hold nutrients and water in the soil. I think of horse digestion and the role water/liquids has to play in it.

Trees and plants have a great ability to use soil bound water. Growing on such steep slopes must be a challenge and I look across at the woodland on the other side of the valley. As plants colonise the ground so the amount of water held within the soil must increase, making more available to the plants and the larger species to then add to the mix. The amount of organic matter held in the soil will increase and surface evaporation will probably be less. Plants can then use the water more efficiently rather than allowing it to run off or soak away.

The large fields around here may be good agribusiness with crop production and chemical input carefully controlled and monitored, but the amount of water available is not so easily manageable by the farmer. Water is a crucial factor in crop production but we can't control the weather. In dry soils like this the use of fertilizers and possibly drought resistant crops will probably enable crops to survive dry conditions. I expect the amount of water-holding organic matter in these fields is negligible.

Seen several bumble bees, speedwell, Brimstone butterflies (around and about) and violets (yesterday).

Lilley:
I gaze out over some fields and hedges and wonder "What place does water have in this landscape?"

I am immediately tempted to say that it helps plants to grow, but I decide to look for another answer.

Water is present in the air when it rains. The atmosphere is filled with water and humidity. The space it occupies changes under the effects of gravity, pulling the water to the earth and the plants upon which it falls. Subsequently most of the water will find its way into the particles of soil if it doesn't evaporate. The water then becomes an intrinsic part of the landscape - bonding with particles of soil, roots, organic material and living organisms. Something seen - the falling rain, suddenly becomes invisible to the eye, abosorbed into the darkness of the earth. So much water much be absorbed into the earth - the chalk deep below. Some will be evaporated by the wind and some will be taken up via plant roots into plant bodies and, again, later evaporated from the surface of leaves.

Ambition To Meaning

2009-03-13T19:21:00.004Z

I watched Dr. Wayne Dyer's film "Ambition To Meaning" on DVD a few days ago and made a few notes:

Origins:
"Returning to nature" is more about "finding your own nature".

All of us have originated from nothing - all being originates from non-being. Perhaps the ultimate non-being or nothing is Spirit. We have all originated from Spirt.

Striving and Ego:
We are always striving, trying to do or reach something. We identify ourselves by our possessions. The more we have the more our ego desires. It seeks gratification and affirmation. Is my value dependent on what I want to accomplish? We can be so competitive, that's another thing the ego wants. The ego teaches us that we are separate from God. If the Spirit is everywhere, then it must also be in me - I must connect with it.

Meaning:
How do we move into the meaning of our lives? We must surrender, there must be trust - live by it and don't let it control you (?). Do you live an inspired life? Do you get inspired? You have to keep practicing until it comes naturally (?).

Trees reaching for each other. How do I think in images?

Ambition:
If I don't have ambition would I get anything done? It is all about where the energy comes from. Is it just pure ambition and the desire of our ego, or is it a greater thing that draws upon your Divine purpose? What is my own divinity capable of achieving? The ego always makes you "right" about what you say and think. Stop interfering with your life - let it be done to you. Die to the ego and begin to live a life of love and connecting to the Source. If you ever think "what if my life has been wrong", then that is a tragedy.

Giving up is good. There is a spiritual solution to every problem.

Life-changing Events:
Sometimes we can undergo "Quantum Moments" when something happens that makes us re-evaluate who or what we are. This can change our values as follows:

Men's values before: wealth, achievement, accomplishment, pleasure, respect
Men's values after: spirituality, personal peace, family, God's will/sense of purpose, honesty

Women's values before: family, independence, career, fitting in, attractiveness
Women's values after: personal growth, sense of self-esteem, spirituality, happiness, forgiveness.

Virtues:

Reverence for all life

Sincerity/honesty

Gentleness/kindness

Supportiveness/service

Serving:
Sometimes you just have to show up and the music happens. Everything is there, waiting for you, just wait for it to show up. The things you want for yourself - really you should want them more for other people. It is not about what I can get, but how can I serve? Then the Universe says "How can I serve you?" Your purpose will always be found in service, that is how God thinks. Touching people's lives is the most important things. Your attention should be "How may I serve?", don't focus just on outcomes. Live in meaning, live in virtues.

Reach out to a fellow human being in need and forget the ego.

You don't necessarily attract what you want, you attract what you are. Forget about yourself.

You are only a thought away from changing your life.

Prayer for a New Day

2009-03-13T07:23:00.001Z

I welcome you
This new day.
I reach out into the air
This new day.
I breathe in your freshness
This new day.
I reach to touch the earth
This new day.
I walk on your firmness
This new day.

I say not to the negative
This new day.
I look for the positive
This new day.
I say yes to peace
This new day.
I ask for balance
This new day.

I ask for inspiration
This new day.
I awaken to your gifts
This new day.
I seek the unknown
This new day.
I embrace all I encounter
This new day.

I ask for new paths
This new day.
I ask for guidance
This new day.
I ask for wisdom
This new day.

I ask to be welcomed
This New Day.

Woodland Emerging

2009-03-08T20:47:00.004Z

Woodland near Wrest Park, Silsoe.

The spring sun is bright in the cloudless sky. I'm in a patch of planted woodland, possibly limes, where the tall regimental creamy coloured trunks reach up the to the high canopy that murmers in the cold westerly wind. The landscape is full of strong verticals casting long parallel shadows hugging the ground. A bright green carpet arises from under the brown, crisp leaves of autumn past. The Dog's Mercury is so vivid when back-lit sunlight passes though their translucent leaves. The colour seems almost unnatural after a long cold winter. It is one of the first plants of the year to reach up out of the cold soil and into the space of birdsong: tits, chaffinch, blackbird, crow and woodpecker. A similar striking green is shown by the mosses on some decaying tree trunks. In contrast, there is the tall climbing shimmering dark green ivy, the almost mustard green of some sky high mistletoe, whilst a nearby field remains an unconspicuous pale green and expectant.

On the woodland floor the soft, crumbly drying leaves are being consumed by the earth and its inhabitants. The flat leaves are dissolving away leaving a curled fragile framework of stems and veins creating a more delicate and airy feel than just a wet mass of leaves of winter. These leaves will form new soil and, as the dog's mercury and bluebells reach up from the soil below, so their shapes will enter the shadows and be broken down further.

I look at a patch of earth that has been disturbed by either deer or some other animal scratching away at the woodland floor. I pick up a handful of the earth and smell it - it is so fragrant. So different to some soil I smelt last week in a recently ploughed corn field - you could hardly smell it at all. It just seemed to lack vibrancy, life and organic matter. Here, the earth is so beautiful. In this patch, no more than a foot square, I find a large number of snail shells - so much life in a small area. I don't think I had ever thought about how many snails lived in an area like this!

This is spring in motion and transition. A time of growth and hastening decay. The transparent and spacious landscape will soon be filled with leaves.

Earth Meditation

2009-03-06T22:02:00.002Z

A hazy morning with a cool breeze and there is a feeling that the clouds might clear to reveal sunshine later on. There is a sense of spring in the air. There always seems to be something about the air at this time of the year, hints of new fresh smells that are the beginnings of the spring awakening. And then there is just the joy of breathing slightly warmer and air and not feeling so cold.

I'm sitting on a pile of rubble on the top of a hill overlooking Luton below me. It's actually a pile of road planings. The black, tar encrusted stones are cold, sharp, coagulated lumps of rock hard brittleness. Piled up against the hedgerow probably for use to repair the large farm tracks that criss-cross the landscape here. Tracks that are well made and get heavy use from walkers, cyclists, horse-riders and large farm machines. The rubble is becoming well colonised by mosses, grasses, mugwort and numerous other species of flora. The baron and unwelcoming surface becomes home to much wildlife. Perhaps I should have carefully disturbed some of the stones to see what invertebrate life I could find, but I didn't think of it at the time. It wasn't a really comfortable seat upon which to sit!

The air is filled with birdsong and the hedges here seem alive with birds chirping and fluttering. I hear tits, chaffinches, partridge, skylarks and was that a goldfinch high up in the tree, black against the grey sky? The gentle hum of the town rises from the valley below me. New Elder leaves are breaking from their dormant boughs, reddish green leaves, about one to two centimeters long begin their journey of growth into the spring air.

The edge of the track here is one of those edge of town dumping grounds for all kinds of rubbish and litter. A meeting place between the urban and the rural. It is like an unofficial boundary that rings urban areas, an outward spreading of urban waste and disconnectedness that is symptomatic of modern culture.

There are many cycles of growth and decay in nature. The earth - we quarry stone, process it, build and then demolish and dump. The rock finding its way back into the superficial crust of the earth. And likewise with so many other resources such as plastics from the millennia old oils that end up in landfill. Why is this process any more destructive than the natural processes around us? It is the processing that is destructive - releasing pollutants and changing natural cycles, such as the carbon cycle. We are interfering with nature.

I take a closer look at the uncultivated stubble of the nearby field. Present are large flints, white and cream against the pale soil. Litter fragments are strewn over the surface: a CD, pieces of plastic, bottles, cans, paper... We demand so much of the soil and have high expectations of its productivity. It a sense it has become a substance of abuse. We force upon it the production of crops, fertilizers and heavy machinery. It is such a thin and fragile surface of the landscape. I notice the fields and their visual smoothness, undulating curves of production. The underlying landscape form is, of course, natural - according to the geology of the land, but the crops just lie on the intimate surface - waiting to be shaved off by the combine. There is no real dynamic ecological system as in, say, a woodland. Does woodland produce a greater biomass I wonder? What are the timescales of production - are they greatest in cultivated fields?

Brrr, I'm getting chilly!

Mind, Conciousness, Ego and Nature

2009-02-28T07:39:00.001Z

Reflections, paraphrase or direct copying of part of Ecopsychology (Roszak, Gomes and Kanner. Sierra Club Books, 1995) that I have picked up to continue reading again:

The concept of the "Mind" is usually usually seen as a label for the "psyche" or "mental processe" that is unique to any individual and doesn't exist beyond their existence.

There is a line of thought that has suggested that the Mind is the sum of all the natural processes and the information that emanates from an individual. Mind is also an immanent (existing or operating within; inherent; (of God) permanently pervading and sustaining the universe) property of the universe. Thus Mind is not just the property of an individual, but exists beyond it. Mind is more fundamental that consciousness, it encompasses all consciousness. Buddhist philosophy reflects this, apparently.

Do I agree with that? How do I feel that my mind may in some way extend beyond the property of my being? Can I exist beyond my physical nature? How about the idea of a universal consciousness that is so often talked about? Is God the Mind?

Consciousness would therefore be a property of the Mind that allows us to have a self-reflective experience. It arises out of Mind and exists in various relationships with it. In our urban-industrial Western culture consciousness is often experienced as being separate from Mind. We have developed our modern culture and society through being conscious of our actions, creativity, developments and life enhancing abilities. But has this ability to self-reflect, be addicted to knowledge and to process information taken us too far and have we become alienated from the grounding to the earth around us?

Then there is the Ego (a person's sense of self-esteem or self-importance; the part of the mind that mediates between the conscious and the unconscious and is responsible for reality testing and a sense of personal identity). We could consider the "Ego" as a collection of cognitive (the mental action or process of acquiring knowledge and understanding through thought, experience, and the senses) abilities that quite simply exists to serve our various need-fullfilling activities. So... we have needs and our Ego enables us to fullfill those by our desire to be something...

So if our Ego takes over much of our thought processes - it can get overstimulated and used to excess and this is the cause of our split from natural processes or rather it would lead us to believe that to be so. Our urbanised and industrial culture tends to reinforce this conviction.

Our culture seems to have inflated "distinction making" so that it dominates our Ego and entire consciousness. We could say that our conscious is split from Mind - and I am not now really understanding this passage - and this reinforces our separation from Nature even though we are immersed in it. Domination of Nature occurs, and exploitation - because of the imbalance caused by our Ego......

Thus when we have wilderness or deep nature based experiences psychological changes take place within us that is a shift from that which is culturally reinforced - dualism-producing reality becomes more of a non-dualistic mode. Consciousness becomes dominated by the need-crazed Ego leaving a simpler "nonegoic" awareness in its wake. This seems to encourage a greater openess to Mind - that is, to the more natural flow of information from nature. If you open you mind to natural processes then nature reinforces itself; likewise cultural processes reinforce culture.

This can make the transition between being out in the wilderness/countryside and returning to the urban world difficult (don't I know it!) because of the widely divergent forms of egoic processing and accompanying different modes of consciousness. People can feel "open" and "airy" in wilderness and "tight" and "turgid" (swollen and distended or congested) in urban culture.

How do people enter the wilderness experience psychologically? Some may cross it physically but not psychologically - they may take cultural comforts with them and not really cross the boundary to the extent they could do. Some wilderness experiences are designed to develop skills dictated as "useful" or "empowering" by our culture, and if that culture is destructive towards nature then there is a problem. Nature is exploited to meet the voracious needs of culture.

Humans have the idea [...] that we are above natural processes rather than immersed in them. We have thought, and continue to treach our children to think, that we can control nature, at least most of the time, and we have felt validated in the belief by the modest success of some of or own inventions.

Woodland Earth

2009-02-15T14:50:00.004Z

It is a cold February day and much of the snow we had over a week ago is still lying on the fields. The landscape is so very different with snow on the ground, all the trees and snowless areas seem so much darker to look at, there appears to be very little colour around. I've walked out from home and seen many deer today. When I look across fields and into woodland, the snowy ground between the trees makes deer loose their camouflage and they can easily be seen running off between the trees. Apart from the snow making their food more difficult to find - I found many places where deer had scraped away a covering of snow to get at the grass beneath. The snow must make them more vulnerable to predators or hunters. In one place I passed within about 20ft of two muntjacs standing motionless against a woodland backdrop. At any other time I might not have seen them, but today it seemed as though they had nowhere to run to.

A patch of woodland beneath some scots pines hold my attention and thoughts for a period of time. I sit on the damp and cold earth against what I think was a small hornbeam. The ground is criss-cross covered with the long, double-stranded scots pine needles. Around me I also see small twigs, cones, hornbeam (?) leaves, moss, pieces of bark, deer droppings and bird droppings (from roosts in the tree above me). I scrape away a small patch of this surface litter to reveal the lower surface of finer decaying organic matter - about an inch deep above the actual soil level. I see a couple of centipedes and also a some new nettle shoots with fresh green leaves. A fine, long deep-magenta root reaches out horizantally into the surrounding woodland. How many of the tall dead nettle stems are linked I wonder? All poised to expand again with new spring growth. As I scrape away some more leaves I find some small creamy long objects which I at first assume are strands of some fungi. I then realise that they are small bones. I uncover more and find some vertebrae and they must have been about an inch long. Perhaps this was a rabbit at some stage. I don't find a skull, but I didn't want to disturb the earth more than I had to.

I find several deer scrapes made where deer have cleared a patch of woodland floor for a temporary bed. The ground is brown and almost lifeless under these trees. The leaves and wood look almost black in places. February can seem quite a dark month yet I know that it will imminently take on a whole new meaning and dynamic. I don't stay much longer as I have got cold. I'm dressed for a brisk walk today and not with warmer layers for sitting round in woods in a cold wind.

A Cold Day on Croft Ambrey

2009-02-04T21:08:00.005Z

I had the chance to visit Croft Ambrey (National Trust) in north Herefordshire on February 1st. I spent the day wandering around this wonderful hill and woodland to which I am always returning when I get the chance. Much of the focus of my writing was to reflect my continuing focus on the element 'air' and to see how it related to the landscape through which I was walking. The headings I give are various approximate locations along my walk.

Fishpool Valley
It is nearly mid-morning and very overcast with a high cloud cover. A moderately strong and very cold wind blows giving a high wind chill over the partly frozen ground. There is an occasional snowflake in the air. I expect to find little shelter from the breeze today. The valley is seeing much change as trees are being felled/thinned and the area more carefully managed by the National Trust. It seemed as though many of the trees may have been wind blown and these were now being cleared.

As the wind waves though the trees, I hear the creaking and groaning of branch against branch. I am sitting on a long log, just above one of the pools by the victorian water mill, with my hands getting cold as I write. A wren chatters below me in some rhododendrons and I can hear the gentleness of water tumbling out of the pool and down the distant stream. The water on the pool is gently rippling and grasses and leaves around me are agitated but not really being moved from their place. There are some blue tits nearby too. The trees in the bottom of this valley are relatively still, whereas those on the high edge of the valley move in the unsheltered wind. A gorgeous red fungus catches my attention on the ground in front of me (probably Scarlet Elf Cap) - such a bright red amidst the winter shades around me.

A fish jumps in the pool (I assume that's what it was that made a splash) and ripples expand across the deep grey-turquise depths - a strong colour against the greys of the ashes, oaks and maples. People walk past, talk and chattering echoes around the tall bare trees that listen. How much have these trees heard over the years? Silent witnesses - absorbing, unresponding, but ever present and feeling the sound around them.

On the pool there is now a beautiful reflection of the trees and valley skyline, mirroring the grey valley in the turquoise water. Then a wind arrives and the surface image dissolves into a blur of ripples - gone, for the moment anyway.

Wild Arum leaves are appearing out of the partly frozen earth, several inches tall already. I see quite a few old fallen trees, blown over by the wind perhaps, where the surface soil is too thin and fragile to allow a root system to gain a stronghold. Branches and twigs suffer in the wind too - a sort of natural pruning of the weak or the dead by nature.

Opposite Leaved Saxifrage is just coming into flower on a rotten tree stump and so is Dog's Mercury on the soft muddy bank of the tiny stream.

Lyngham Vallet
A greater spotted woodpecker flies up from the ground near me and flies up into a nearby tree.

I am sitting against a pine tree on the side of the small valley looking towards Bircher Common. I am sheltered from the wind that carries the sound of the high canopies above me. There are the tall thin ashes below me, many of their slender trunks have the orange Trentpholia algae on the north, sun-shadowed side of their greyness. Another bright colour against the winter hues and the green-black of the background conifers. Tall grasses on the woodland floor, a pale creamy brown, sway in the breeze. Fragile stems and feathery heads that held the long forgotten seeds of summer. Their dark green basal leaves forming tussocks, rugged and strong - secure in the earth below.

The wind seems like long breaths, with periods of calm for many minutes before gently gathering strength for a longer period of activity; then calming again. A gentle, slow rise and fall of energy.

I wonder how (or if) conifers are more adapted to better withstand winter winds than deciduous trees, even though they may be covered with pine needles. Perhaps the fine feathery nature of the needles offers less wind resistance than larger flat deciduous leaves. Perhaps the branches are lighter, finer and yet more flexible in windy conditions.

I see and hear two jays and hear a buzzard calling.

I come across a line of oak trees and observe that there are still some dead leaves rustling at the very top of one tree, whereas all the leaves have disappeared from neighbouring trees. Why are these leaves still high up in the canopy? Is there a small area that is more sheltered from the wind, or are there fewer branches in their vacinity to knock them off?

Bircher Common and Dionscourt Hill
The sun is now out and it is just after midday. I am now out on the common land and in a good easterly wind. I find a small pool on the hill top at the edge of a field, beyond is a clear view of Clee Hill in the distance. The pool has ice around the edge furthest from that facing the wind. I look to see how the ice has formed - small ridges where surface ripples have been blown against previously formed ice. Frozen in the shallow ice are patterns created by the wind catching floating duckweed and froth.

My eye catches something sparkling above me and what I assume is a foil party balloon gently passes - a delicate, twirling, silvery object against the blueness in the sunshine. It is just too high above to make it out in detail, but low enough to make me wonder if it will get caught in trees further up the hillside. It floats silently, westwards and is gone.

I pass some sheep and pick a few pieces of sheep's wool off a hawthorn hedge. It is amazing example of ideal insulation. A think coat of very fine hairs that traps air and reducing heat loss from the animal. With even a small piece of wool between my fingers I can feel it keeping in the warmth. The individual wool strands are all wavy and create a beautiful interlocking structure of wool and air space. No wonder it is used for making clothes, but I wonder whether the most effective use of wool is in its rightful place on the back of a sheep - processing and weaving surely reduces much of its effectiveness as an insulator.

A willow tree by a roadside catches my attention. Its trunk has divided and one half leans out at a seemingly impossible angle to hold up its branches. Air creates space around the tree and the branches have to be held upright against the force of gravity. Only with the aid of a significant root system can a tree maintain the balance of its above ground structure. Space is hugely important for a tree and I am often thinking about how plants and trees organise their stems, branches, leaves and flowers spacially. Air is also important for seed dispersal for many plants.

I come across a stream. There is a large pipe carrying the water under a farm track and, when the water exists, it splashes into a small, but deep pool forming a mass of agitated air bubbles perhaps 3-4ft long and 1-2ft deep. I think of the process of aeration/oxygenation where oxygen is dissolved into moving water and which can help support water life downstream.

Croft Ambrey
I am sitting on some dried bracken on the top western side of the hill overlooking Shobdon Hill Wood. It is mid-afternoon and the sun shines in the valley below through a rare gap in the clouds - a strong beam of light cutting through the clouds and light haze. A small pool reflects a silvery light amidst the sunlit fields which are a bright yellow-green. There is only a slight breeze in my sheltered place and patches of beech leaves gently rustle where they still remain near the bottom branches of their trees. The brown bracken around me I am sure gives an almost imperceptible rustle and crackling as it dries out in the wind.

The air is always beautiful up here in this quiet place and has, no-doubt, been appreciated even by the iron-age people who once lived here, The idea of fresh air to them may have seemed odd as their air would always have been fresh - apart from perhaps a hut filled with wood smoke, smelly bodies or dead animals! Hills like this are surrounded by a space full of air which separates their presence from other hills around them.

How the wind can change in a landscape like this. One part can be calm and still, another can be so cold it takes your breath away! And it can come form so many directions depending on the topography.

A crow croaks loudly and glides not far away - a being of blackness with a deep, loud and echoing call.

On the top of Croft Ambrey the wind doesn't seem so cold now. Clouds are moving quickly and the valley is lit up with patches of fast moving sunlight. For about half a minute the whole of the hill around me is bathed in clear sunlight and then it has gone. The light, cloud, wind and natural patterns constantly change in this landscape. They all interact with each other in a graceful play that belongs to the earth around me and not to my time or place.

The sun sets and my journey off the hill must begin.

I give thanks.

Red Kites, Buzzards and a Kestrel

2009-01-25T20:32:00.003Z

Although rain was forecast for much of the day, I decided to go out for a bike ride and, fortunately, it didn't really materialise. I cycled down towards Whitwell and then stopped by the side of a road going up towards Preston. I had my eye on a sheltered place by some woodland and thought I would just stop and see what happened. It was a quiet road and, as usual I wasn't expecting anything to happen.

As I approached my stopping place I noticed two red kites circling around a magnificent ivy covered oak tree by the side of the road. The birds were very distinctive - large birds of prey with a noticeably forked tail. The peace of the place was disturbed by five rather strung out runners who seemed to take ages to pass me. I just stood with my bike an the grass verge wondering what to do and where to look before sitting down on the ground with my sketch pad. Once the runners had finally passed and my gaze returns to the kites, a car pulls up and a man gets out. He had seen the kites and, as he didn't know what they were, stopped to have a look too. One kite was so close to us, just gliding silently and gently, and only a few yards above us - you could almost count the individual feathers when its tail fanned out. Our talking probably encourages it to leave and it glides off over the fields. The man drives off.

The air is quiet. A few blue tits (?) are in a nearby hedge and I hear the sound of crows and a pheasant in the distance. The westerly wind swayes the woodland trees, I am sheltered in this place. The air is cool, not cold. The sky is heavily overcast and a fine mist fills the landscape as a light drizzle dampens my sketchpad. The kite returns and I watch it circling around the tree, graceful, quiet, delicate - then away over the fields it goes. In the sky I also see seagulls and two ducks flying over far above me.

I cycle on a few hundred yards. A kestrel dives from the top of a telegraph pole into the field only a few yards in front of me just as a car approaches. I have to move into a gateway to allow it to pass. The kestrel flies up and then down again into the tussocky grass. Then up it goes and it lands on a power line about 10 feet above me. Then off it goes and lands on wires over the middle of a field. I turn round and see a buzzard scareing some crow in a distant wood. It flies over the fields and into woodland behind the kestrel. A red kite is also in the sky and I see these three magnificent birds of prey together in the same field of view. Two buzzards appear above the woodland and circle behind the kestrel, still perched on its wire. Their rounded tails, slightly upturned wing tips and less graceful flight easily separates them from the kites.

It was amazing how a seemingly insignificant patch of road could suddenly provide so much activity and interest.

Landscape and Development

2009-01-23T07:58:00.001Z

There are two things I could write about today. I could write about smells that I like, such as that of silage and farmyards (which you don't get alot of around here), or I could write about new roads, capitalism and society. Let's go for the latter.

With our local paper yesterday came a glossy brochure outlining a possible new northern bypass around Luton. I noted that in one of the tables that this would potentially have a strongly adverse inpact on the landscape value of the area. This does add to the list of other developments in the area, such as the housing which is proposed on our doorstep, and it will probably lead to infilling and other developments over time.

My initial reaction was that of sadness that another patch of countryside with a high aesthetic value would be forever changed. That is what man does. He has changed his countryside for thousands of years. I said "his countryside' and wonder if we really should see it as belonging to us? The landscape is seen as our domain, our playground, our development land and there for the production of our foodstuffs.

Yet we are in a recession. On the radio last night, and I have heard other voices commenting on the same thing, there was the realisation that perhaps we have to change we do things. Perhaps the banking and economic systems we have must change. Can we continue to grow, develop and expect the same standards of living
that we have enjoyed? Are there other models that could work? Yet we still seem have the necessity to plan for large scale construction projects that I am sure could be designed differently. It is hard to know what to do. I've been stuck in Luton in traffic and know that streets created decades ago were not designed to cope with the high volume of cars and traffic movements we get now. How do you resolve the conflict between car usage expectations and existing town infrastructures? The easy and most cost effective option for planners and residents to agree on is probably to tarmac over an open field. You can have all the space you like out in the countryside. Who cares whether that hedge, that tree or that bit of field is lost from agriculture?

So, should I support the road scheme or not. I mean wildlife diversity could increase along the roadsides and around road junctions where trees are planted. What is lost, that I think is more of what we humans think about, is the peace openness of countryside that does not have elements of human development. Farming and agribusiness can just get away with it even if the fields are bland (at least you get a good view) but stick a noisy dual carriage way in and you instantly get noise and air pollution and a loss of the sense of "getting away from it all".

From what I perceive, most people here don't go out of Luton that much (huge generalisation I am sure!) and would probably rather see an improvement to their town scape and a loss to the countryside. It would be a great help to drivers, I admit that, and residents who can't pull out of their drive safely into a roads full of traffic.

In years gone by people stayed within their communities and did not have the freedom to travel as we do today. In many ways I wish I cold do that, but I am not sure I have the freedom and luxury to be able to pick and mix how and where I work and live.

Connections: Air, Deer and Drums

2009-01-18T21:42:00.000Z

Had an interesting day today that was inspiring on many levels. Sometimes you can just get caught out by the unexpected when you begin to make connections with the environment in which you live.

Meditation on the air around me
After a wet and windy night I find myself out for a walk on a cold and windy, but sunny day. I find a place to sit against a fence post at the edge of a field. The ground is very wet so I find some drier dead nettle stalks and sit upon those. I am sheltered by some tall holly bushes and face the sun. It is actually quite pleasant and warm though I am wrapped up well.

Today the air seems excited. A wild wind blew in the night and the roads are littered with twigs, small branches and leaves. Large puddles have formed and not yet had time to drain away. After the cold weeks of Christmas, the air senses a hint of warmth where the wind is calmed and the sun is allowed to warm. The wind is blowing from the north west; brisk, bringing a gentle swaying to the nearby trees. It feels welcoming, alive with hope and a sign that Spring will bring warmth though that may still be a long way off.

A blackbird flies across the field in front of me from hedge to hedge, a constant two to three feet above the ground, on wings made to give effortless flight. It's feathers: formed to create strength out of the lightest of materials - quills full of air yet strong, almost weightless; for flight and insulation. Their design and construction has evolved with air in mind. The blackbird's flight is a movement through the unseen, it enables so much and is vital for survival, feeding, reproduction and escape from predators.

In a hedge a little way away, a large holly bush stands. Its glossy leaves reflecting light from the sun in the sky behind it: glistening spots of white when caught in the breeze - a mass of twinkling, almost like fairy lights on a Christmas tree.

The sky is clear with some hazy cirrus (?) clouds way up high and some smaller faint whisps of white passing hurridly just above me.

I am in a sheltered place with only the gentleness of a light breeze to move the fallen winter leaves and blades of grass a little. Without their leaves, the hedges are transparent to the wind. The dense evergreen of the nearby hollies provide a welcome wind-break.

The air is wonderfully refreshing to breath in. It carries the scent of the damp earth and the winter vegetation. Because of the form of the landscape in my corner of this field with the trees, hedges and gentle undulating fields, the wind circulates around me - one moment on my left cheek, then on my right. Then all is still but another moment brings another change in direction to my face.

The sun and the wind will probably dry the landscape a little today if it stays like this.

Sounds are carried through the air to me. Distant cars, aeroplanes coming into the airport and those way up high, unseen birds behind me, the wind in the trees and the passing of five noisy motorbikes on the nearby bridleway. I am brought the smell of their exhaust too.

The air has no real tangible visible form, yet it affects all the objects in the landscape. It is like an omnipresence that can only be shown to exist by the reactions it has with other things.

Newly formed molehills are scattered around the field nearby. How do they relate to the air? The are made by a mole that breathes air. The tunnels so formed are full of air. The soil itself contains organic matter, either living or dead - leaves, grasses and perhaps even the woodland that may have once stood here centuries ago. Soil organisms break down the organic matter, some by aerobic methods. The texture of the soil depends on the air spaces between the soil particles. The soil upturned is aerated by the mole and now it is exposed to the wind to dry out.

A group of birds, assorted tits probably, is nearby. They make their presence known though calling and by movement.

Where the trees and hedges cast shadows in the sunlight there will be patches of cooler air. Different microclimates, not just around different parts of the field but also deep in the hedgerow. The air is affected by the temperature and humidity around it.

I give thanks to the place and I move on. I've got too cold sitting and writing.

Deer and a Hare
I am now in a patch of conifer plantation and surrounded by tall Scots Pines. I sit back against one of the tall bare trunks that just give life to the top canopy layer far above me. What can I learn from this place that is so different to where I was previously? At first I sense nothing new (apart from remembering that woods can be dangerous places in the wind). Inspire me please...

Out of the dark depths of the wood, three stags and two does walk towards me. I just catch sight of them as they appear out of the darkness into the dappled sunlight - their bodies and huge antlers bathed in a creamy light. Their shapes blending with those of the trees and branches of the woodland. They are about 20 yards away and, with the sun in their eyes, they probably don't seem me until I am startled by their appearance and turn my head to look at them. They pass behind me and run off into the distant trees.

Air. Deer. Silent. Unseen. Freedom. Running. Wind. Wild. Like a gust of wind appearing out of nowhere: present, then gone.

And then I see a hare. Again, only a short distance way. I almost thought it was a small muntjac deer at first. Grey, tall black-tipped ears, moving in and out of the shadows between the trees. Gently and quietly. Then it's gone.

I have to go. Have to be somewhere.

Drums
I'm in a tipi with my drum, with others, gathered around the open fire. The air is filled with herb and wood smoke, and the respect we show to each other and to the drums we hold. I remember the deer I saw earlier today. My drum skin belonged to a Red Deer, once running wild through the air. Freedom. We drum. Creating a sound, vibrations and resonances that fill the air. The deer is alive again in the air around us.

Connections.

We just have to be aware of them.

Thank you for this day.

Return to Painting

2009-01-17T21:16:00.007Z

I've just painted a picture - at last! For many months I have been wanting to try out a particular style of illustration and get back into my own personal painting. A week or so ago I outlined this picture whilst waiting for some friends in a pub and I at last sat down today to paint it. I was inspired by my drum making day in December. We actually had some warm sunshine in a sheltered part of the garden this morning and I did some of the final pencil outlining onto watercolour paper whilst sitting outside. The painting was then completed indoors with inks where the light was more consistent.

Meetings

2009-01-16T07:43:00.002Z

This year seems to have got off to a good start and I feel I have shed my autumnal blues. Work is very busy, more stimulating and challenging and I feel in a good frame of mind all round.

After about half a year of thinking about it but, for one reason or another not progressing with the action, I visited a local Pagan Moot one evening this week. I am uncertain as to whether to write much about it although it was very thought provoking. Why did I go? Because when I've been in a place that, to my perspective, has been very anti(?) the ideas they may have I was naturally a little wary. One thing has stuck with me is that people may be more readily able to accept each other for who they are than for what they believe - I know this is a huge generalisation and not always true (and I haven't got time here to expand fully on what I mean). I had some interesting conversations that covered ground that I resonated with, but I need to be a bit more careful that my liveliness, personal humour and phrases of language do not get misinterpreted when I am an unknown person.

I was given the task by one of the members, whether I should accept it or not, of studying the four elements (earth, fire, air and water) for a month each over the next four months and to find out all I can about them. I will do this as best as I can and report back at various stages.

I'll go again because I am sure I can learn from the people there. I am not ready to engage fully with them, but I need people to share with and learn from. I have to embrace new opportunities and new ways of doing "people" stuff.

Have also joined Facebook this week and that is proving quite exciting!