« May 2009 | Main | July 2009 »

June 30, 2009

Running on empty

As you may know, I run a half marathon every Sunday morning; it's the one run of the week which I time, so I race against myself, always looking for a fast one.

But this Sunday, and for no obvious reason, my body was finding it hard. The spirit willing, but the flesh complaining alot. Who knows why? It wasn't as if I'd got wazza'd the night before.

Anyway, after six miles or so, I was wishing myself home; but facing another seven miles, and much of it hard hill. Everything was hurting; everything wanted to stop, but everything knew I couldn't, that stopping wasn't an option, so I fought on, pushed and pushed again, carried on, one step and then another, one hill and then another, hard pavement, pounding feet, sweat in the eyes, until I made it back, shakiy hand turning key in door.

And how happy I was! I was staggering around breathless, sweaty and gasping for water - and laughing. If I sat, I laughed; if I stood, I laughed; if I stumbled, I laughed. My time was slightly slower than usual, but I didn't mind. I was more happy just to have done it today, because today was hard - and one day i wouldn't be able to do it at all.

So I was Mr All-Smiles, impossible to upset. It was as if all the nonsense had been cleared out of my body, and I was just left with what I am - happy.

This is what we are when we reach empty.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 08:30 AM | Comments (0)

June 24, 2009

Dog Days

As I said in my last post, I was away for the Solstice. I was a long way away in Thirsk. On the Saturday night we had a Midsummer Fire and at this fire, my friend who is madly into Jeanette Winterson at the moment, read a short story called Dog Days which had appeared in a Sunday mag the week before about how a dog had entered a persons life and warmed them into life.

“Love is not one thing, one kind….Love is chaos because it is bigger than any of the boxes it comes in……He was so tiny the day that we brought him home; he grew, and so did love. He stole my shoes, my cardigans, my pens, my gardening gloves, my string, my car keys, my heart. In return he gave me the sun. Running, running, running, running, running.”

In the story the dog was black. We got up early the next day – about 8 of us and went down to the river for a communion under the morning sun of the longest day. Apparently in Oxford it was a dull day but in Thirsk, the sun was warm and bright and barely a cloud. The birds – racket is the only word I could use, all weekend, singing their little hearts out. I had picked the spot so we could hear the noise of the water, which sends me anyway and knew we would have to just be unselfconscious as the dog-walkers walked by. Well in Thirsk there are a lot of them. I was not far into the first prayer when the Spirit came as a black spaniel and jumped into the river behind me. Later followed many other black dogs and quite a few other kinds too, all the way through. One of the dog walkers had her wellies on and got into the river with her dog and waded up it. We had sung a song and one woman walked past. She said she thought it was a baptism so put her dog on the lead. We started talking to her and she said that once the nuns in the place where we were staying had helped her at a difficult time in her life. Even now, every time she walks past she remembers their kindness and knows she’s being looked after. We carried on and just as I had finished giving out the bread and wine, a cheeky little border terrier bounced up. I am meant to dispose of the elements in a sacred way so I gave him half of the rest of the bread and then he sat down (obviously been told that if you want something you must sit and ask nicely) and looked up at me with the most melting pleading eyes and ears alert with excitement at the prospect of the other half of the bread, head slightly cocked. So I didn’t disappoint him.

As someone who calls my dog my spiritual director, it was the most wonderful communion. I was very glad my own dog wasn’t there. She’s a border collie and she wouldn’t have messed around with the river. She’d have been at that bread and swiped it before I would have seen her. She did this once with some wafers I’d put down just for a moment that I was about to take to some old people for their mid-week communion many years ago!! Communion was chaos because it was bigger than any of the boxes it normally comes in. Hooray! Thank you dog friends.

Posted by Tess at 10:10 AM | Comments (0)

June 23, 2009

shock-jock in shock

I am just back from doing an interview for local radio.

It was fine, though I suspect my previous blog may have over-estimated a little on the audience figures.

Not that I'm knocking zero; it has its own perfection.

It just left my 'shock-jock' tactics looking a little sad.

Let's just move on, shall we?

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 03:45 PM | Comments (0)

The secret of radio

I'm off shortly to do an interview for local radio; book promotion and all that.

I've always been told that the secret of radio is to imagine that you are speaking to just one person.

Of course on local radio you often are...

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 08:39 AM | Comments (0)

June 17, 2009

SAD or Summer Averse Disorder

No, I jest. I couldn’t in all honesty say I’m averse to British summertime. Like everyone else last year I felt deprived of the cleansing of a hot summer as I entered the autumn and I feel the same about cold winters. I LOVED this winter and the gorgeous warm Spring. However, I have just been preparing for a Solstice celebration that I’m part of over the weekend and I noticed how much less natural it felt for me than preparing the ones in the darker part of the year. My Seasonal Affective Delight is Autumn Equinox to Samhain (21 Sept-Oct 31) and I’m happy to throw in the bare trees, the bleak cold and the nights really drawing in of November too. Less keen once Christmas rears its ugly head but that’s for different reasons.

Yes, I have to admit it I am a winter baby and the darkness in my spirituality is quite hardwired into my soul. I feel I can trust it all a bit more if there’s some darkness around. Don’t know what that says about me except that I’m a card carrying 6 on the Enneagram. So here is my Saddo Adjusted prayer for the Summer Solstice for other Saddos who like the shadows.

This is the long day
This is the day for brightness, the lightness, the burnishing sun
This is the day when the warm earth is bursting with joy
This is the day for rejoicing and being with friends
This is the day for fruitfulness and creativity
For the summertime and for abundance
But this is the day that must pass
This the day that looks toward the shortest day
The day when the sun will begin to wane
When darkness will start to grow
When I am reminded that
Life belongs with death
Light belongs with shadow
Day belongs with night
Summer belongs with winter
Flourishing with diminishment
Brokenness with mercy
Relationship with the journeys I must make alone.
As the sun draws all to its zenith, I embrace with love all that must fade
And place myself in the divine rhythm of life death and new life.
May I greet all that rises to meet me with gratitude and compassion
As I set out this midsummer’s day.

Posted by Tess at 02:39 PM | Comments (0)

June 16, 2009

I dreamed a dream

It was my daughter's birthday, and we went to see 'Les Miserables' in London's West End - it was our sixth visit to the show, and it just gets better and better. Wonderful!

Unlike the travel. It was during the two-day tube strike, and my bus travelled the pitted roads like a snail with cramp. Oh, the problems! Being in a hurry, I got out and walked in the end. Eternity was fast running out. Once in the theatre, we discovered the couple in front of us had endured a four and a half hour journey from Bristol;and made it with five minutes to spare, as the orchestra finished tuning.

At half time, I got chatting with the couple from New Zealand on my left. They were looking a bit surprised by it all.
'Have you seen it before?' I asked.
'Well, we saw an amateur production in New Zealand,' said the woman. 'But it was nothing like this. In the show we saw, she was fat and middle aged - really, a very large woman. Liked her pies, if you know what I mean.'
It turned out she was referring to Cosette, the young and lithe love interest in the story.
'She didn't look anything like the Cossette in this show. So we spent the whole production wondering how the writer imagined this relationship could possibly work. Young good looking man; enormous middle aged woman.'

And of course, the writer had never imagined that. Its just that in amateur productions, in countries with small populations, casting choices are limited, especially if the director's wife has first pick of the parts. She'd probably wanted to play the part of Cosette all her life; but sadly fulfilled her dream 25 years too late, by which time it was a nightmare.

On the way home, we travelled via the northern line, one of only two lines operating. So did the rest of London, and it was ridiculously and utterly packed, crammed and unpleasant. Though surprisingly, I exchanged more smiles on that hellish journey than I have done in the previous five years on the tube.

Momentarily reminded that we were powerless human beings, in control of nothing, there was plenty of reason to smile.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 01:13 PM | Comments (1)

June 15, 2009

True Happiness

Wipe your tears
My beautiful friend
Let me tell you a secret
Your true happiness
Does not depend on anyone else
For when you recognise
And celebrate your uniqueness
By dancing to your own tune
Then true happiness
Will flow through you
You will know happiness
With all people
In all situations
You will depend on no one
But you will love
As you have never loved before

Posted by Shelliz at 06:48 PM | Comments (0)

June 08, 2009

the bare truth

Today, I am looking at bare earth.

It is not sad; it is not happy; it is just bare - dark, cleared and sparse amid other more colourful and lively beds; beds busier with life.

This earth - it has not always been bare. Things have grown here before, I remember. And they may do again; I mean, never say never, eh?

Though today is all we can sensibly speak of; and today it is bare. So very bare.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 03:45 PM | Comments (1)

June 07, 2009

Healing open wounds

Take the wound and rub it raw
Pick off the scab and rub some more
Find the salt and pour it in
Expose the pain and screams within
Allow it all the time it needs
Let it weep and let it bleed
Feel the hurt and feel the pain
Feel the anger and feel the shame
Feel it all, until you feel no more
Then spent, sit quietly at Nothings door
Push it open, step inside
What grows from Nothing, will be your guide.

Posted by Shelliz at 06:02 PM | Comments (0)

June 01, 2009

The greatest moment in the history of the universe

I'm so, so pleased; so amazed! My emotions are all over the place! I've been dragged to hell in a handcart, and it's like, really amazing, the best day of my life! I can't believe it!

It's so amazing, like, incredible! My favourite three acts in the final of 'Britain's got talent' actually were the top 3 - Diversity, Boyle, Smith. At last! I'm in tandem with popular thinking! After years of being out of kilter, Mr fucking weirdo, and completely at odds with public assumptions, way hey, hey - I'm the man, I've made it, my finger's on the people pulse, and I'm over the moon!

I knew I had to give it my all, up my game and really go for it, and well, here I am, and its the best day of my life, and I'm really grateful to you for voting like me. Keep phoning, please! And now I want to go and do it in front of the Queen at the Royal Variety performance, which would be an even greater day of my life, and completely mind-blowing, and everything I ever wanted, and wished for!

I just can't believe this is happening! It's going to change my life completely! All my life has been leading to this moment, and now I'm living the dream, i don't want to wake up! etc best day etc greatest day etc life-changing etc so amazing etc have I not used the word fantastic yet? etc etc

Welcome to June, everyone. I hope I've go things off on a suitably upbeat note.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 02:15 PM | Comments (0)