Hopton Titterhill and Black Hill: Part 2

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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....?