Breadmaking and the Soul

Satish Kumar was talking at the Resurgence Camp last week and launching the idea of Slow Sunday - regaining Sundays for the family and reducing the need for shopping, travel, computers, email, etc (good for reducing carbon emissions too!). He suggested that having a day off each week is an ecological imperative.

He was reminded us of the value of making bread as an example of the spiritual, aesthetic and art in practice. There are numerous things you can associate with baking bread: you are in physical touch with the ingredients, mixing and kneading them; you can think about the origin of the ingredients - particularly if you are using organic or traditional varieties of corn; you can smell it; it requires patience - waiting for the yeast to work, perseverance, you can't rush it, it's about slowing down; it can be like a meditation; it is like working with the body of the Cosmic Christ - Communion (can you imagine the body of the Cosmic Chris in a factory made wafer?). It requires love care and patience.

What was then great about the talk was that people were then given the chance to go out into the sunshine and actually participate in a group bread making session. I didn't because I had already spent an afternoon a couple of days previously in the kitchen making a bucket load of bread for the camp. People were so excited by it though and all making little rolls or asking questions.

This weekend I decided to make some more bread myself and not just use our breadmaker. We had a friend staying and when I said I was going to do that she got so excited. In the end she made two loaves - the first since being at school many years ago. She was so inspired by the experience and I found it quite amusing showing someone else how to do it. We made a couple of wholemeal loaves with mixed seeds in. I still can't seem to get things to rise too well as I don't really have an ideally warm place for it, and even waiting for nearly two hours didn't produce results I would have liked. But she loved it and it was a great sharing experience!

Perhaps I could hold a bread making party or a meal with lots of different types of bread. I'd love to make some outdoors in a brick oven or something.

In the Sweat Lodge

I had been very apprehensive about doing a sweat lodge at the Resurgence Summer Camp last weekend. I thought it might be a bit too "spiritual" in ways I would be uncomfortable with. In then end, having talked to a guy about his experience with one on previous years, I went for it and I really appreciated how well lead it was and how comfortable with the experience I was. It felt very neutral and that it was up to me to approach it how I wanted to. Being in a small tent, with some red hot stones, about ten people, a large jug of water and complete darkness was fun. With just our thoughts, singing, freedom to express ourselves and a good deal of humour we had a great time. Oh, and outside it there just happened to be a hole dug in the ground full of mud and water for us to fall into and gaze up at the star-lit sky!

In the blog "On my Dartmoor Stone", April 2007, I had been struggling to cope with the sense of immense darkness and loneliness I felt within and beneath a stone I often visit on Dartmoor. In the sweat lodge I returned to those thoughs but here I felt another experience that sort of healed those uncertainties - the absolute, yet safe darkness from which I come and will return to (physical or just the darkness of the unknown past/future); the immense heat of creation that formed the rocks now glowing in front of me and which dwells at the centre of the earth; the refreshing water and hot steam that cools and gives us life; the intimacy of other beings in a completely unshameful way; the music of our communal song and an intense moment of escaping to a different place.

Sometimes you just have to do things that take you out of your comfort zone.

Three Books

I have bought three books in the past week which should keep me going for a while:

Ecopsychology. Edited by Roszak, Gomes and Kanner. Sierra Club Books, San Francisco, 1995

A collection of esays on psychology, nature, Gaia, wilderness, ecology, earth. I'm only a little way into it. It's quite heavy going, but very inspiring and thought provoking. I had been looking for a good introduction to the subject and this seems ideal.

Soulcraft: Crossing into the Mysteries of Nature and the Psyche. Plotkin, Bill. New World Library, Novato, California, 2003.

Looks like a good general practical book on nature/soul work: imagery, animal tracking, silence, pathways, journalling, relationships.....

The Wild Flowers of Britain and Ireland. Coates, Charles. Frances Lincoln Limited, London, 2008.

I have several flower books, but this looked a good buy as it had higher quality identification paintings and also good general notes on each flower that combine technical facts with folklore and other information. As I want to increase my flower identification and knowledge skills, this combines several books into one.

Knapp and Papermill Nature Reserve

The Knapp and Papermill is a nature reserve owned by Worcestershire Wildlife Trust and I walked around it a few days ago. The visitor centre had an interesting notice board upon which visitors and the Warden could note down the wildlife that had recently been seen on the reserve. What inspired me though was what may have been quite mundane to many people but which, to me, was a beautiful work of nature and creation.

The reserve has an old apple orchard which you approach as you walk down to the stream from the entrance. The huge old apple trees are on a gentle hillside bordered by the river and trees at the bottom and woodland on the other sides, forming a small enclosed orchard in a small valley. I love meadowsweet, but here were clouds of the beautiful cream flowers, red stems and almost turquoise leaves carpeting the orchard. There were also docks, greater willowherb, umbellifers (may have just been Cow Parsley), convolvulous, tall grasses and brambles all intertwining over each other between the trees. There was a beautiful assemblage of creams, greens and pale browns. Occasional white butterflies speckled and danced in the dappled sunlight. The stream murmured in the background, the air was still, very warm and it was mainly sunny. The tall apple trees towered upwards, already laden with small fruits and their high canopies umbrellering outwards. The grasses gently swayed in the breeze and mistletoe clung to many trees.

Why describe it? A lesson in observation. It was a beautiful place, an ideal place to be after a long walk in hot sunshine over the nearby Suckley Hills. Sometimes a place just reaches out to me and almost asks me to join with it in appreciating creation.

Resurgence River Meditation

These are my reflections on an early morning meditation at the Resurgence Summer Camp 2008:

We gathered in the campsite, about 12 of us, at 6.30 am on a warm and sunny July morning. I knew we would be going down to the river and, like the others slowly joining the group, had decided not to go barefoot. One man turned up barefoot and was asking if it would be alright to do so and was wondering what the ground would be like. We agreed it would be fine for him and, as I was slightly envious of him' I said "I will journey with you". So off came my shoes too. It the end, as we silently set off, three of us hardy men felt the coldness of the early morning dew beneath our feet and the soft refreshing grass.

Walking, slowly, silently, in single file. Trying to keep a rhythm between our breath and our careful footsteps. Down the field, through the trees, over the stile and out into the flat grassy sheep-shawn grass of the meadow alongside the river. Alders stretched out along the river bank of the River Teme which meandered through the red soil of the rich earth. The tall Balsam with ornate pink flowers, magnificent constructions of origamied petals, joined the clusters of nettles over which we could peer down to the gentle waters to our left. Along the sheep path we journeyed, dodging nettles, to a place where the alders provided a shaded resting place overlooking the calm waters for us mindful walkers.

Green Woodpecker, Pheasant, sea gull, a Wren singing, crow, possibly Blue or Great Tits; and was that a Kingfisher I just heard flying past down the river? And a Dipper too?

In the distance a farmer was irrigating a field: I am aware of cycle of the water from the river to the crops to the food eat. Connections are everywhere.

We rest for a while. The perfect sound of a singing bowl drawing in our focus. Others sit, but I stand, listening to how the ringing fills the air and intermingles with the trees. How do I feel about it I wonder? I had never come across the sound of these in practice before this weekend, but the it seemed to blend in. I liked it.

I touch the alders, bright green in the sunshine. Their rough bark softened by the algae. I run my fingers down through the crevices in the bark and sense the variety of the different ages of trees. Even though I am with a group of people, still no-one has said a word. I am amazed at the peace and awareness to the experience that these folks bring. I don't remember having been with people who have revered meditation like this before - perhaps they all knew what to expect, perhaps this is in tune with Buddhist practice.

We are eventually called by three rings of the bowl to gather and begin our journey back. We pause in one corner of the field for one final look over the meadow. We stand in a circle, asked to bow to each other and then to bow to the "Masters" (whether that be to Jesus, Buddha or whoever - I'm not used to some of these rituals!). At the exact same moment we all face the sun to do that a group of three or four swans takes off from a patch of water out of view to our right and fly across the meadow in front of us calling distinctively. Looks of awe and amazement fill the us all. This was an incredibly moving moment.

* * * * *

There are probably many metaphors that could be applied to the swans appearing when they did. Swans and Masters, Royal and Sovereign, Nature as Teacher. It is up to me to read into it as much as I want to. It may have been coincidence, but perhaps this was a true moment where Nature, God and humans interact. Like the butterfly in the tent later that day (see previous blog). When you spend time outside, you experience things in a different way. Someone wrote to me recently and prayed that God (or was it Jesus?) would reveal Himself to me in a real way. Perhaps this was that moment. Perhaps the whole weekend was a revelation for me. I felt deep love.

Thank you, June, for your guidance and showing me a practical outworking of slowness and mindful meditation.

Resurgence Summer Camp 2008

I have just returned from the Resurgence Summer Camp held at the Green and Away tented conference centre in Worcestershire. I hadn't been before and was a little apprehensive at what I would find. In the end I came back on an emotional high, not an ecstatic or adrenaline filled high, but a deep feeling that I had at last made some deep connections within me that had been yearning to find a home. I could write at length about many things, but perhaps they will evolve into further blogs. Instead I offer a summary of notes from my notebook and a glimpse into some personal experiences.

• A group of 100 or so people with whom I felt a deep affinity and connectedness with at many different levels


• A great campsite: vegetarian food, all meals outdoors, wood-burning showers, solar power, compost toilets, camp fire and all intimately surrounded by trees.


• Although I didn't attend many of the main talks (too much already to think about) I found the workshops on creative writing very inspiring. I would have done the Deep Ecology one but got tied up with a very interesting discussion group on the use of spirituality in daily life


• Talks by Satish Kumar were very inspiring as was his idea to promote Slow Sunday and to get us all making bread


• The morning meditations were hugely profound to me. It is ages since I have been in such deep group meditations and these were unique to me. Very holistic, very open and I felt completely free to be who I am. The silent walk down by the river for an hour or so at 6.30 am on a beautiful sunny summer's morning was amazing. I'll write it as a separate blog


• Spending time in the kitchen cutting boxes of cauliflowers, chopping piles of carrots and cucumbers and making a bucket load of bread was a big highlight


• Washing all the kitchen pots, pans and utensils after the first evening meal


• Sitting on my own in a large yurt on a hot summers day surrounded by comfy cushions and just listening to muted sounds of the camp outside


• Showering out of doors and looking at the campsite around me


• Swimming in the nearby river on a hot summer afternoon with cows looking on


• The Sweat Lodge and subsequent mud bath! I had been apprehensive about this but after chatting with someone I went along. It was great, only about 10 of us, but it was well lead and I felt no sort of scary spiritual undertones. It was very dark, very hot and great fun!


• Wildflower walk: we were all given magnifying glasses and went to see what flowers we could find around the campsite. Everyone found this fascinating.


• Conversations. I had too many to remember!


• The meeting on daily spirituality. I was deeply moved by this gathering/sharing when we all stood together to hold hands. Don't know why, but I wanted to cry! Perhaps I was feeling no longer alone and some of the people had walked a path similar to that which I have done (as had others on the camp). We were joined by a butterfly and a baby toad by the way!


• Walking barefoot for several days


• Listening to the band Dragonsfly, and the storyteller (pictured)


• Helen Moore, eco-poet


• The Grief of the Earth


• Labyrinths being a form of body meditation and prayer (not that I walked the one there though).


• An apple tree shows unconditional love: all are welcome to have an apple, humans, birds, wasps and worms etc.


• Love is not the same as liking.


• Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it (quote from Mary Oliver, Poet)


• Teach me


• Sitting under a tree is a temple


• Creation is always ongoing


• Hold a bread making/eating party


• Make beautiful things - slowly!


• When God made time, he made plenty of it


• Why waste finite materials to save infinite time?


• Art is good art when you use it in your life

And more!

The camp was gift to me to appreciate and unwrap. I could have done much more, listened more, spoken to people more and thought more, but I did what I did and I feel profoundly moved. Thank you to all the people I met, to all who organised it and to the whole of Nature and the Great Creator for being there for us.

Observation and Reflection: Summer Hedgerow

Observation:
It is a warmish July morning near Offley. A strong breeze flows over the landscape and an occasional light dusting of rain dampens only the air. The barley is golden and in the distance I hear the first distinct hum of a combine this year. I'm on a bridleway passing through the fields and I reach a patch of low hedgerow alongside a small field of set-aside grass. A short length of grasses and an abundance of flowers captivates me for an hour or so as I sketch and observe a community of nature full of energy and life.

The obvious flowers are the lilac Scabious and the deep red-purple Knapweed. Their flowers reaching above the herbage to be alighted upon by bees, butterflies and other insects. Other flowers I find are a small Cranesbill, Agrimony, Black Medic, Skullcap (?), White Clover, Bryony, Blackberry, Ragwort, Plantain, Yellow Vetchling and a few other species - as yet unidentified.

The butterflies are amazing. Silently they flutter around the flowers, sometimes dancing, sometimes fighting (?), sometimes still on a flowers, sometimes always on the move and never resting. I see Marbled Whites, Gatekeepers, Ringlets, Large Whites and a brown (Heath Brown?). I watch the bumble bees with loaded pollen sacks on their legs, again possibly five or six varieties buzzing about. Hoverflies and beetles gather around some of the flowers and small Grasshoppers chirrup around me. Occasionally I see them jump around my feet. The are small and so well camouflaged against the browns and greens on the foliage at ground level.

Buzzards and circling nearby, calling. Do I hear a skylark? Another unseen bird flutters in the hedgerow in front of me.

Beside me was an area of set-aside unmown grasses. Just standing and watching the movement of the grasses in the wind was inspiring. A mass of light, feathery, soft, shimmering seed heads all waving and moving en-mass when caught in the breeze. Perhaps almost a mist - a strong blurred movement of the lightest brown, almost irridescent grasses.

Reflection:

Thank you for this place of the dancing butterflies, this hedgerow belonged to them today - theirs to savour the Scabious and Knapweed - amidst the waves of the breeze, the chirping call of grasshoppers and the calling Buzzards. This patch of creativity, of nature in its fullness of fertility and reproduction was a singular patch amidst the surrounding blandness of barley fields. An explosion of colour: lilacs, purples, whites, yellow and pinks amidst the lushness greenness of growth. A place of peace and yet deep creation. I had been asking all week for a deep place of revelation to be shown to me today and this patch of nature doing what it does best seemed to present itself to me on many different levels. Just admiring the striking beauty of the Marbled White butterflies on the Knapweed was one thing. Thinking about how this micro-haven of nature removed my thoughts away from work and life and things was another. I was perhaps most struck at how such a length of hedgerow, perhaps a hundred yards or so in length and away from the reach of the farm sprayer could produce a vidid island of creativity. How much do we dominate nature and quell its creativity, life and beauty? This small area was like a living body in itself, an interrelating system of diversity built upon the connectedness of so many different species. Ecology at its best. But, of course, I do not wish to anthropomorphosize the place as necessarily a place of beauty and with intrinsic natural goodness from the point of view its 'self'. I look upon it from the outside, and for all that live their, each part of the flora and fauna is struggling with survival - a constant synthesis of life and death. As I step away and continue my walk I feel that I am leaving behind something special.

None of this is essentially new to me. What I am attempting to do is to really begin to observe the landscape around me and place it into a psychological framework - and write about it too. I have spent many years just observing, but now I want to think about it in a deeper way. To explore, to be inspired, to learn, to journey...