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November 30, 2011

Advent. Time to open some windows.

The season of Advent starts tomorrow, the 24 day journey to Christmas and it's all about opening windows.

And without sounding pushy, I do hope your advent calendar has windows with a view; windows with a chocolate sadly lack this.

Oh, and som practical details: I got most of my calendars online this year, but ran out and so hurried to Smiths where I found some nice small ones with envelopes. (I insist on nativity/wise men/star scenario and amazingly you can still find them if you look.)

So Advent is a festival of window opening and about openness, about opening up, unfurling our tight selves, about fresh inner air, fresh sights, fresh being. Wonderful!

It's therefore a revolution against being closed in, closed up, sealed in by the half-light of mind-tightening obsession.

As we pull back each cardboard shutter, we let in the light.

As we open each window we let in the air.

And wherever we are, we acquire a room with a view.

I hope its a good journey for you. I'll be tweeting an advent journey if anyone wants to walk it with me.

But in the meantime, 24 windows of opportunity for you and with each opening we say:

'From closed to open, from stale to fresh: the advent-ure continues.'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 08:21 AM | Comments (0)

November 29, 2011

It's a sin

I am using this 'gift time' to become better acquainted with Thomas A Kempis, he was born in 1380 in the lower Rhine region of Kempen and ordained as a priest in 1413. He spent most of his life in the monastery at Zwolle. His writing was first and foremost for other monks, but caught the attention of the world and has since been translated into many different languages.
His book of writings known as 'The Imitation of Christ' continues to be on the best sellers list all these years later.

The Imitation of Christ www.whitecrow books.com
http://bit.ly/vXG9kr

Today Thomas is talking about sin and temptation and he tells me
'Believe me, there is no state so holy, no place so secret that temptations and trials will not come to you there. People are never safe from them as long as they live, for they come from within us - in sin we were born'

And while I find myself agreeing with Thomas that sin comes from within, I would rather say that 'Once born sin comes and takes up residence in us'

Maybe I see 'sins' in a different way to others, but to me

It is a sin if someone grows up with no self worth seeing themselves as stupid, ugly or not as good as others because noone took the time to make them feel special and valued for who they are.

It is a sin when someone grows up feeling unlovable and therefore unable to give or receive love because noone has bothered to show them any kindness or tenderness.

It is a sin when someone grows up always fighting and grabbing what they feel they need to fill the gaping emptiness inside because their emotional needs were not met when they were small.

It is a sin when someone grows up to be a bully, wanting to impose their power on others because they were belittled and made to feel powerless when they were a child.

It is a sin when someone grows up and continues to be a victim of abuse from others, because this is what they know and feel familiar with.

It is a sin when someone grows up to look down on others, feeling themselves to be superior, because they have been indulged and not helped to consider others and their unique situations.

It is a sin when someone grows up always feeling frightened because noone has ever made them feel safe.

It is a sin when someone grows up unable to sit quietly and reflect on their own actions and on how they effect others, because they were not helped to do this as a child.

It is a sin when someone grows up unable to listen to the voices of others because noone has ever listened or cared about what they needed to say.

It is a sin when someone grows up unable to slow down and enjoy the natural pace and beauty of the world, because technology and flashing images have been always forced down their throats.

I believe all the above and many others are 'sins' that come from within us, they were all put there by others who held power over us in our formative years.

It seems to me all 'sins' in our world grow out of the way we treat our children.

Individually each of us has to decide to take the journey back to rescue our own inner child from the particular 'sins' inflicted on them and then maybe we can become better at not passing them on to others.

Posted by Shelliz at 12:19 PM | Comments (0)

November 28, 2011

Pippa Middleton strikes gold

I know I speak for the nation as a whole when I say how excited I was to hear that the publishers, Michael Joseph, a subsidiary of Penguin, have offered Pippa Middleton an advance of £400,000 to write a book about hosting parties.

Do you remember Pippa Middleton? Her sister married Prince William in the summer and many men apparently considered Pippa's bottom the highlight of the wedding. (How much of a compliment this is, I'm unsure. The 'wedding highlights' DVD is very short.)

Not that the £400,000 has anything to do with her royal connections. She's just a brilliant writer, at the top of her game, writing about the most pressing concern for the human race at this moment in time: the hosting of upper-middle class parties.

You may fondly imagine that I'm bitter, but you'd be mistaken. Sure, I didn't get a penny of an advance for my recent book 'Solitude - Recovering the power of alone': http://amzn.to/rarvra

But I am easy with that. I like my books to be fighters, to understand the struggle - to grow up on the wrong side of the tracks, and make their way in the world because of who they are rather than who they know.

I like my books to stand in the water as the tide of mass marketing forces them back.

And to hear them say: 'Fuck the tide.'

Yes, it's rather rude, but I warm to that spirit in people - and in my books.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 05:30 PM | Comments (0)

November 26, 2011

Why?

As I sit today I am frustrated and unsettled. Why?

Over the last 10 days since breaking my ankle, my home has gradually become more messy and I am unable to do anything much about it.
I am at the whim of others who do things in their own time and in their own way.
It is not my way, but because of the situation I have to sit in the mess and today I am finding it hard to see beyond these outer circumstances.

I know this is a madness that I am allowing to grip hold of me.
Why should it matter? Things will be cleaned up eventually, Why can I not just sit with it and allow it to be?

Yesterday I was taken to visit a friend with a new baby and I was content to sit and hold this little one for hours.
Not once did the outer environment come into my mind, not once did I want or need to to anything other than what I was doing.

So why can I not sit and hold myself today and allow the mess to be mess until such a time when it becomes not mess?

Maybe I can.

Posted by Shelliz at 01:20 PM | Comments (0)

In the beginning

While away last week with some clergy, a time of confession was introduced with this poem:

In the beginning, God laughed
And the firmament fumed and spluttered with pleasure;
And the sea shook the foam of his hair from his eyes;
And the earth was glad. The sound of laughter
Was like the swaying and swinging of thunder in mirth;
Like the rush of the north on a drowsy and dozing land;

It was cold. It was clear.
The lion leapt down at the bleating feet of the frightened lamb and smiled;
And the viper was tamed by the thrill of the earth at the holy laughter.

We laughed for the Lord was laughing with us in the evening;
for the laughter of love went pealing into the night.

And it was good.

Paul Sunday

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 10:13 AM | Comments (0)

November 25, 2011

What would Jesus do?

I recently had the honour of sitting in a fragile circle of clergy contemplating the church's response to poverty, recession, Big Society etc.

What should the church be doing?

It's a difficult subject because Jesus wasn't a political animal but a human animal - and so he didn't collude with any label, which is how most politics functions.

He would not have baptised the greed of wealth-hunters; but neither would he baptise the self-righteousness of certain protestors.

He didn't collude with the rich. His memorable reflections on the camel struggling with the eye of a needle places a cancer at the heart of the 'Haves' and their care-less pursuit of money.

But then he tells the story of the Pharisee, so honourable in his good works, thanking God that he is not like others. The whiff of needy and attention-seeking self-righteousness arises from many of the protesters.

The church is easily seduced by moral causes. It helps them feel important. 'We've got a homelessness project - isn't everyone else terrible! That's what we're doing. What are you doing?'

A good cause does not make a good person; a sick person with a good cause makes the cause itself sick.

And certainly there's no group so inclined to self-importance as a religious group with a cause.

For me, the church lives or dies by the quality of energy it nurtures and good energy only arises from grace; from the experience of a gracious place where our lives can rest and be loved and renewed.

Let the church be a place of grace and space for rich and poor alike. It is not about 'us' and 'them' for there is no divide: we are them. And when we allow that, when we accept ourselves as we are, we become strangely creative in the world.

I found grace for the journey in this fragile circle of clergy.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 11:10 AM | Comments (0)

November 24, 2011

Ankle update

Latest news on poorly ankle, I went back as instructed to the fracture clinic and was told I have not one but two breaks in the ankle, but as the ankle is not displaced apparently I am very lucky indeed.

After seeing the doctor, I was sent to the lovely nurse Simon who took off my makeshift casulty cast and I was able to say a brief hello to my bruised and battered foot before the new cast was put on.
It was quite exciting, I was allowed to choose which colour I wanted. So I now have one rather fetching green leg.

I have to return next week for another X-ray, but as long as the hospital is happy with the results, I will keep this cast on and in six weeks time I will be reunited with my foot and leg.

Meanwhile at last I'm finding a use for that bag of odd socks that I kept, I knew they would come in handy one day!

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

November 22, 2011

Why teachers drink

I was recently sent some reasons why teachers turn to drink.

This answer by a student was among them:

Q: Name six animals which live specifically in the Arctic.

A: Two polar bears, four seals.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 06:06 AM | Comments (0)

November 21, 2011

To Know and to Grow

Having been given this time, I am finding that lots of insights are bubbling up inside, not necessarily new, but things are surfacing and coming together in different ways. If you are at all interested in the thoughts of this one legged seeker then please read on, but also feel free to abandon them whenever you want to (I do have alot of time on my hands!)

All the time we live inside our human skin and know ourselves as defined by our body, we will make our plans.
For it is something that we need to do, but as we lay these plans down, we need to accept that we place them onto shifting sands.

For the world we are part of is an evolving place and our plans must therefore grow and change with it, for fighting against this bigger power is futile, akin to swimming against a strong current, it has the ability to wear us down.

It is a huge homecoming when we realise that every moment the place where we live is a living, breathing, changing universe, bigger and way beyond any limited human understanding.
And allowing ourselves to trust this deeper knowing is often at first very difficult.

As individual people we are so fearful and desperate to keep this little bunch of cells that we have come to know as 'me' safe, separate and in control.

But when we come home, we hear and recognise the bigger truth, which is
'We are not and have never been in control'

No human being has ever had that power. The Ego our early survival friend, has always taken it's job very seriously and pretends it has everything sorted and in hand, and the Ego can be a convincing little bugger.

But it only takes one small event to happen, that can start off a series of knock on happenings that shake and cause a crack to appear in the Ego's little hard exterior.
And then all that is within us, that knows without doubt, that it is part of this living breathing evolving place pushes against that crack.
Seeking freedom, seeking space, seeking contact with a more powerful energy source that is somehow known and yet seems alien to us at the same time.

Because the Ego's job was to protect us while we grew (and bless Mr/Mrs Ego for that as some of us really did need it's help)
It calls us back, using all it's powers of persuasion to convince us that we are not safe
'You can not trust what you do not know, stay safe, stay protected, stay here' it calls
But what it is really saying is,
'Stay small for if you grow, I will disappear and I am nothing without you within'

At first the voice of the Ego will be louder, for we are more used to hearing it and of course it has been a helpful friend to us in the past, but if we listen carefully we will hear it's whinging, it's desperation and it's manipulation. These are qualities we now do not need in a friend.

So if we allow ourselves to quieten down and really listen, not just with our ears but with every fibre of our being, we will start to hear a voice beyond the Ego, A voice from long ago and yet fresh at the same time. Our truthful fearless self is speaking, It knows we are awakening, it knows it is our time.

It knows we are part of this living, breathing, ever changing, evolving world. It calls us to go beyond our limited knowning and invites us to step into deep vast unknowing.

It's a voice that never gives us any certainties, but it gently encourages us to join in and go with the flow of energy, to trust and allow changes to take place inside ourselves to allow our own growth.

At this point to choose not to grow is to die to our own potential and glory. It's sad but sometimes it does happen, because sometimes the fear is too powerful and the Ego's voice can become too convincing. But the hopeful thing is that Life will always bring chances to grow and we will hear them knock again.

However if we are ready for the next stage of our growth we will hear that same timeless voice that spoke to Julian of Norwich in her cell saying
'All shall be well, all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well'
And we will walk bravely forward knowing that the hands that hold us are the safest hands we have ever and indeed will ever know.

Posted by Shelliz at 11:20 AM | Comments (0)

November 19, 2011

Gift?

Driving back from 'The Beautiful Life Retreat' I was talking with a friend saying that it would be wonderful if we didn't have to go straight back to work and instead had time to just sit with all the things that were coming up inside.

Well the latest news is Life has conspired with me in it's mysterious and somewhat dangerous way and I am likely to be off work until January.

On Wednesday morning, I slipped on a coat which had fallen onto the stairs and I have broken my ankle.
Yes it was painful at the time, as my daughter will vouch for 'I heard Mum shouting Oh Fuck!, oh Shit!, I think I've broken my leg!' and Mr Parke has kept the text to show how someone in complete and utter agony spells ambulance!

But the bigger picture is I feel at complete peace with what is.
All my short term plans have needed to change, and I am relearning ways of getting around and doing things with only one leg and the aid of crutches.
I am learning to slow down and take the time it needs to do things.
I am learning to allow others to do things for me.
I am learning to sit and be.

It feels a bit strange to say but I neither care or not care about breaking my ankle, It is just what is.

And the time off work, well that just feels like gift.

Posted by Shelliz at 12:24 PM | Comments (0)

November 18, 2011

Warmth in a cold sea

The last of my extracts from 'The Journey Home' this week.

And the chosen piece today reminds me of a brave soul on the last Glastonbury retreat: a woman who swims in the Devon sea every day. Yes, every day including Christmas.

The coldest sea I've swum in was in Whitby, on the N-E coast, and in Bournemouth in March this year. Truly paralysing. But the extract today is imagining slightly kinder water, though water with an edge:

'When swimming in a cold sea, it is most wonderful suddenly to feel a warm current enveloping your body. Perhaps you hadn't realised how chill you were until this gentle heat touched you. You are not sure where it is coming from, and suddenly it is gone, lost as quickly as it was found. It disappears into the depths and only the cold is real again. It is colder still for your recent experience of the warmth.

Then your foot again finds the warmth, elusive but there, felt and experienced. One leg and then the other leg is touched. And slowly you begin to understand the nature of the warmth in the cold sea. Sensing its origin and flow, you find you are able to hold yourself for longer in its grasp.

Our essence is the warm current in the cold sea. We are happy indeed if we learn to hold ourselves there.'

Enough. I hope you've found something in the readings this week. I close with the two latest reviews posted on Amazon for the book, (In it's Beautiful Life incarnation.) Both were kind enough to give it 5 stars.

Here's their experience:

5.0 out of 5 stars A smile in book format, 19 July 2011

Michelle Chand (Guildford Surrey)

A friend gave this book to me and since then I have passed on copies to many friends who had reached a turning point in their life of one kind or the other on the rocky road through life.
What this book is: unpretentious, eclectic, wonderful, insightful, kind and thought-provoking. I keep it on my desk, well thumbed, full of underlinings, highlighted passages and dirty turned corners, and dip into it again and again for quiet words of wisdom from a man who does not declare himself to be a guru or to have all the answers. He is just a man, and this is just a book, but if you have lost your smile, you may well find it within these pages.

5.0 out of 5 stars It works for me, 22 Jun 2011

Mrs D Lee

I first pick up the book from library, after fourth renew, I decided to buy a copy of my own. I am currently at the second reading and it is like new. I am amazed by the wisdom of the author, and when I feel anger, anxious and worry, reading a few pages help me calm down. It works for me.

To order: http://amzn.to/rFMRDx

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 08:24 AM | Comments (0)

November 17, 2011

A thousand pieces - maybe more

I'm feeling unsettled today.

What's it like? It's as if my life has been cut up into a thousand pieces - maybe more - and thrown up in the air.

I stand in the world distracted, waiting to see which way they fall, and trying to get back to now.

Such things have affected my choice of extract today from 'The Journey Home'. I was already thinking I must go and sit with my empty bowl, when my flick through the pages stopped here:

'Only one thing is ever required of us - that we give up everything we imagine we know. From here on, all assumed knowledge counts for nothing. Once we give up everything we imagine we know, our progress towards the truth becomes a good deal freer and life more hopeful.

Nan-in receives a university professor who has come to enquire about Zen. Nan-in serves tea. He fills his cup, as a good host might. But he carries on pouring until the cup is spilling over.

The university professor watches until he can contain himself no longer.
'It is over-full!' he says. 'No more will go in!'
'Like this cup,' replies Nan-in, 'you are full of your speculations and opinions. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 04:03 PM | Comments (0)

November 16, 2011

You hold the deeds

Something short and snappy tonight because it's late, and we're all tired.

How went the day?

These are in fact the last words in 'The Journey Home' - and the good news is, they were not written by me.

Enjoy now the old rascal for truth, Hafiz - still apparently, the most popular poet in Iran. (Though not, I imagine, amongst their leadership.)

Here goes:

'Light will some day split you open.

Even if your life is now a cage.

For a divine seed, the crown of destiny,

Is hidden and sown on an ancient and fertile plain,

You hold the title to.'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 06:08 PM | Comments (0)

November 15, 2011

In the eyes of a child

Because I have the honour of visiting my grand daughter Poppy tomorrow, you'll forgive me for starting today by looking in the eyes of a child.

In today's extract from 'The Journey Home', we're thinking about our capacity - or lack of capacity - to receive. It ebbs and flows throughout the day, doesn't it? So why's that?

Here goes:

'In the eyes of a child, nothing is yet fixed or rigid and nothing yet a threat. Instead, everything is new, everything is open and everything is possibility.

It is not surprising therefore that we are so often encouraged to become as a child. For all psychological and spiritual development is rooted in our ability to take things, hear things and see things in a new way, making fresh connections.

Spirituality is the art of making connections and when we do, this is a sure sign of our true selves bubbling to the surface.

Our personality will not be making fresh connections. Our personality is determinedly the same as yesterday.

But we are not our personality.

For those who escape personality, time ceases to be. Some people are more alive at eighty than they were at fifteen because the spirit, once released from personality, does not age. It is eternally youthful. The body may be far from youthful but the spirit is. The body may be tethered, but the spirit is free.

In this state, they become today's child, again and again and again, receiving impressions fresh every day.

Fresh bread is better than stale.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 03:05 PM | Comments (0)

November 14, 2011

In all conscience

When Bloomsbury said they wanted to re-publish 'The Beautiful Life' under a new name, 'The Journey Home', it gave me the chance to do add some material, as well as take a little out. I prefer the new version.

But today's extract was there in the original - and when it came to thr re-write, needed to stay. It concerns our conscience; or rather, our consciences.

Does this ring any bells?

'People tend to judge from their sense of conscience. This is something generally encouraged. 'Listen to your conscience' we are told. But this is not so simple for we have not one conscience, but two and they differ considerably. They are two twins, true conscience and learned conscience, but they speak with very different voices.

True conscience is a timeless place, a universal place and one full of light from which we make clear, strong, present and just assessments. This true conscience is a clean and concise existence inside us as a possibility now, and many may already have experienced it.

We are more familiar however with its twin, learned conscience. Learned conscience is comprised of guidelines we have absorbed down the years. It's a place of half-light, an unchecked assortment of codes and mesages, a bundle of unexamined assumptions, passed onto us by a rag-bag of authority figures in our past, and which we now assume to be absolutely true.

This learned conscience is an eager judge on all matters, but not a reliable one. It's conclusions are random yet unchecked by us. In listening to such conclusions, we are those who set out to travel the world in a second-hand car about which we know nothing. If we did know its history, we wouldn't dream of relying on it for our journey.

Sometimes people preface a judgement by saying 'in all conscience'. The question is: from which conscience do they speak, true or learned?'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 02:34 PM | Comments (0)

November 13, 2011

Time to

Time to be still
And notice my breathing

Time to listen for my heartbeat
And allow it to slow down

Time to visit the quiet land
Where words do not exist
Yet in the silence
Answers to unformed questions
Rise to the surface

Posted by Shelliz at 06:41 PM | Comments (0)

Listening for Truth

Earlier this week out of the blue a friend turned up at my door, she had uncomfortable feelings coming up inside her and wanted to say them aloud to someone else, my role was just to listen for truth was speaking to her from within.

As Joel S Goldsmith said 'We do not need any deep metaphysics: we need to understand the simple little truth that the still small voice is the power that destroys the illusions of this world.'

Sometimes when truth begins to speak it can be frightening, because sometimes what it says means giving up our comfort objects or changing patterns of behaviour that we have become accustomed to, but which are actually doing us no favours and often causing us harm.

For the last few years my friend has been part of an exclusive friendship in which she has spent nearly all her time with one other person. Recently this person has been working away and my friend is is questioning the different feelings that are coming to the surface.

One of them is the loneliness she feels, when her friend was around they always had somewhere to go or something to do, always kept each other laughing and in this way, both could choose to stay away from any pain. It meant she did not have to deal with any uncomfortable feelings within, she could conveniently pretend they were not there.

This is one way of existing, but it is not really living, because relying on another for your 'happiness' is a dangerous and ultimately unhappy way to live.
And avoiding your pain is an untruthful way to live. We can not transform that which we choose to deny.

As my friend spoke I sensed from what she was saying she was aware of these truths deep inside herself and I felt she was ready to hear the truths said out loud, so we spoke about the best friendships being those where people enjoyed each others company but had no expectations of them.
We talked about friendships becoming a dependency and like any other dependency, only feeling good while you are getting your hit and feeling terrible when you are not.

We spoke about the inner child in each of us reaching out to others to fufil it's needs, because it can not trust the false authority figure within which is made up of damaging voices from the past, to treat it with the care and consideration it needs.

We spoke about sending the false authority figure away and allowing the true self to rescue and take responsibilty for the inner child.

After supper my friend left happier than she arrived, I think she is on her way to discovering the truth that to be truely healthy and happy she need to become saviour to herself.

Posted by Shelliz at 04:25 PM | Comments (0)

November 12, 2011

The Journey Home - a weekend taster

Next week, I'm going to be blogging some extracts from 'The Journey Home' (a re-published and revised version of 'The Beautiful Life'.)

It's themes have been coming up alot recently in conversations, so another airing seems good. And of course it's how I came into contact with many of you initially, which is another reason for me to celebrate it.

So here's a weekend opener, a preparer of the way:

'This book is for those who sense there is a journey to be had. It is an exploration beyond what appears inevitably so, beyond our mechanical lives of predictable reaction.

In the making of this journey, some things will not matter. Your colour, creed, gender, sexuality,culture, social status or ethnic origin are of no more significance than your shoe size or telephone number. All that matters is that daily, you notice things about the machine your soul inhabits.

I will not ask you to believe words. I will not ask you to believe promises. And I will ask you to believe your feelings only in as much as they lead you back to their origins in your past - for you did not have your present feelings at birth. Feelings are clues that lead us to treasure. They are not the treasure themselves.

You will take nothing on trust. But you might occasionally take a risk as the journey proceeds. Thomas, a doubting member of Jesus' following, surprisingly risked placing his hand in the wounds of Jesus' crucified body, in order to test out a theory he found hard to believe.'

I hope it's a good weekend for you. All being well, see you Monday.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 10:24 AM | Comments (0)

November 11, 2011

Like poppies

As we approach the 11.00am silence, I am reminded of one of my favourite passages from scripture.

It appears in the little read book of Habakkuk, right at the end of the Old Testament. After him there's just Zephaniah, Zechariah and Malachi, and that's that - before the New Testament adventure begins a few hundred years later with 'that birth'.

But here are the words from Habakkuk, known in the business as a 'minor prophet', at the end of Chapter 2:

'What's the use of an idol? It's only something that a man has made and it tells you nothing but lies. What good does it do for its maker to trust it - a god that can't even talk! You are doomed! You say to a piece of wood 'Wake up!' or to a block of stone, 'Get up!' Can an idol reveal anything to you? It may be covered with silver and gold but there is no life in it.

The Lord is in his holy temple; let everyone on earth be silent in his presence.'

Of the making of idols, wooden or mental, there is no end - with perhaps self-justification the most common and lethal.

But in silence we leave our busy idols behind and become as the weeping poppies of Flanders, tragedy growing beauty.

Let everyone on earth be silent; we may even recover our souls.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 08:22 AM | Comments (0)

November 10, 2011

Old clothes, new clothes, keys and farewells

This will be the last of my reflections on the Glastonbury retreat for things come and then they go.

For those who were there, it may seem a long way away now. Genuine discoveries are made during these few days. We discover the clothes we're wearing are a little shoddy; we even glimpse a new wardrobe we can choose from and enjoy trying on some of these new clothes.

Wonderful! How we shimmer and shine!

But on returning to the world, we tend to adopt our old clothes once again. This is quite natural - they have been our wardrobe for so many years, they cannot be discarded over night. That would be just too much of a shock to our identity.

But something has changed on a deep level. We no longer worship these old clothes; we know that we can remove them without being shamed; and we also know there's another wardrobe we can draw from when we feel able.

So it's back to normal life and back to our normal selves, but the difference is this: we're no longer defined by this normality. We may mislay our new truth occasionally - but we never quite lose it.

Whatever life brings, we now have the front door key to a place called home. And we go there when we can.

With these thoughts in mind, we listen to the last of the retreatants. So what was it like?

'The retreat was a safe haven filled with gentle guidance and care. A place where the heart could speak and be heard. There was beauty in the peace that emanated from the quietening of our personalities. A peace that touched the heart and enticed openness and sharing. And for me there was insight, pain, relief, joy and deep gratitude. For a short while we lived from a different place and our faces shone as we said our farewells.'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 01:15 PM | Comments (0)

November 08, 2011

How to get hold of a copy of Solitude NOW

Thank you for your commercial wisdom and persistence, everyone.

This is what you've taught me: for those who want a copy of 'Solitude' now, approved Amazon suppliers like the The Book Depository and Aphrohead books will send you copies immediately. And they are cheaper than Amazon.

Here's the link: http://amzn.to/vB4g84

So while Amazon mutter about a January 2012 delivery you can cut to the chase rather quicker than that.

Good luck - and thank you again to all who have kept me informed. Stay in touch in either your despair or happiness.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 12:46 PM | Comments (0)

Solitude in December

Just a short one:

I'm doing three evenings on solitude in December with the excellent 'Breathing Space' in North London.

They will be Thursdays, December 8th, 15th and 22nd.

Still amidst rush.

The details are in the Retreat programme on this site or visit 'Breathing Space' at http://www.breathing-space.org.uk/events/2011-12-08

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 06:02 AM | Comments (0)

November 07, 2011

Focused on dying. And acceptance.

I have benefited today from the final words of a dying man not famous in his life for a deep spirituality. Indeed for some he represented everything that was appallingly cunning and manipulative about New Labour. But our perceptions are as solid as smoke and here's the back-story:

Philip Gould died today of a cancer aged 61 and will perhaps be most remembered by the public for his focus groups and his dying.

Tony Blair - not necessarily the advocate you'd wish for at the end - describes him as an indispensible part of the rise of New Labour: 'To me he was my guide and mentor, a brilliant mind and a total rock when a storm was raging. He was always a constant advocate for the British people, their hopes and anxieties.'

Blair refers here to the focus groups which Mr Gould introduced to politcs from his advertising background. Such groups have a tarnished image now, sullied by too close an association with New Labour but Gould remained a fan of them to the end. Focus groups, he claimed in his revealing interview with Andrew Marr, expose a deeper truth than traditional Yes/No polls. They reveal who people are, their deeper longings: 'People feel paradoxical things,' he says, 'focus groups are truer than polls.'

Like the court jester of old, Gould's ability with such groups made him a significant if uncomfortable truth-teller to those in power: 'This is what people really feel about you.' Philip found this particularly hard in the 2010 election in relation to Gordon Brown: 'Gordon is such a vulnerable man so easily hurt; no one wanted to hurt him.'

But the onset of cancer brought a new experience of life to this self-confessed 'political nutcase':

'When you move from one diagnosis, that's one thing; the second diagnosis is another, but the death diagnosis - the level of intensity is so high, so strong and so powerful that you are just in a differerent world.' The doctor, when questioned about how long he had to live, said the worst case was three months. And the best case? asked his wife Gail. 'Three months,' came the reply.

Mr Gould described his time in the 'death zone' as the most extraordinary time and 'certainly the most important time of my life. I look out of the window and feel the intensity of the garden, the intensity of my wife and my family - it is the natural place to be.'

Tony Blair says that in dying, Gould grew 'emotionally and spiritually into this remarkable witness to life's meaning and purpose.' The former pollster agreed, saying he'd not have wanted to die the person he was before the cancer: 'I've reached levels of integrity, decency and compassion which are entirely different,' he said six weeks before his death.

The words of the dying carry their own power, coming from a place of enhanced reality within. Certainly Mr Gould's words of clear-sighted acceptance melted my minor difficulties of this morning and took me instead to my North London window to contemplate the grey, cold but holy day.

'To leave this extraordinary place now, I would not want to do that,' he said. 'This is the final place and the right place for me at this time is the final place.'

I'm reminded of the Anthony de Mello dialogue:

'Today,' says a man, 'I feel as if I might not live beyond tomorrow.'

'But doesn't everyone know this?' says his friend.

'Everyone knows it,' comes the reply. 'But not everyone feels it.'

Philip did and found something there.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 10:15 AM | Comments (0)

November 06, 2011

'Controlled Crying' or recommended 'Child Abuse'

On two occasions this week, the subject of a technique called 'Controlled Crying' has come up. Once during some training I attended and once when speaking to a parent who has used this technique on her child.

Both times I felt an overwhelming anger come up inside myself, once noted I was able to respond to the situations mentioned and not aim my anger at another, so luckily I do still have a job.

This morning I sat quietly and reflected on why the anger was so huge and why I am so totally against this concept.
Inside myself I feel strongly that no baby or young child should be left to cry without comfort or a calm adult close by, leaving a child to 'cry out' just does not sit comfortably with me.

I feel that it is teaching children to learn that their feelings do not matter, they will not be considered, held or responded to, It is saying learn to give up and shut up.

I feel livid that adults can behave this way towards children and justify it as a helpful training method. Who does it help? definitely not the child. It is a way of adults not having to deal with children's emotions and it angers me that this is advice, that could possibly be being given in a Health or Children's Centre near you.

As an experienced child care worker, I agree it is important for adults to set boundaries for children and sometimes this does mean not giving in to crying.
But there are different types of crying and many different situations in which crying may occur.
Each child is an individual and depending on their life experience and age they may feel different levels of security and have varied emotional abilities.

Let's face facts, children who are crying because they do not feel secure are not helped and only damaged by being left alone to cry.

There are so many reasons why children may not feel secure. Babies first way of communicating is crying, facial expressions and gestures.
Using any controlled crying technique on a child who can not yet use verbal language amounts to refusing to listen to their voice.

Babies and small children are not boundaried, they pick up on atmospheres and feel them inside themselves.
They will pick up on any negative feelings or emotions of their carers even if they are not said or shouted out loud, this could include anxiety, fear, anger, depression, coldness and power struggles, the list is endless.
Small children are vulnerable and if they are upset and crying they need the presence of another, a calm and caring other, who can make them feel safe ad help them make sense of what is going on within their body.
It is that simple, they are not yet able to regulate their own feelings and without caring others who can role model how to do this they will never learn how to.

I guess what really frightens me about the advice to use 'Controlled Crying' is that it can be interpreted as 'a one size fits all technique' and this is where the real danger lies, because each child is unique and their early experiences differ so much.

It is one thing not to give in to the crying of a toddler tantrum, as long as the adult is close enough to know that the child is not coming to any harm and a totally different thing to leave a small baby crying not knowing if anyone will ever come back, remember the idea of object permanance is not consolidated in children until they are at least four years old.

If a child does not and never has been made to feel secure then enforcing controlled crying at any age is not going to be a healthy or healing thing for them. It may give the adult some peace once the child is 'trained' but at what cost to the child's emotional well being.

The parent who I was talking to, has a very bright three year old, she is ahead of her age in many developmental areas and yet she finds it very difficult to regulate her own behaviour, feelings and actions.
Is this just coincidence or has the fact that she has been left to cry when she needed comforting anything to do with it?

Posted by Shelliz at 04:32 PM | Comments (0)

November 05, 2011

More Glastonbury feedback

Meanwhile, away from the Solitude debacle, I'm aware that I promised more reflections on the Glastonbury retreat. Here are the latest two, and I like them for their variety.

Some people are able to start their inner work quickly on retreat while others need more time to prepare for it. There's no right way - just your way.

Here are the two retreat stars for today:

1) It was good to meet such a lovely group of open, friendly people. The love and support within the group was truly tangible. We must have experienced a whole gamut of emotions throughout the week - fear to sadness to laughter to sheer joy! For me it was the most amazing time. I would say that I was very gently relieved of layers of emotional baggage, carried for many years, that have not served me well. The person that arrived at the beginning of the retreat felt very different from the one that left at the end! I had started to discover the 'real me, on my own journey. It's a good feeling to have brought back with me and I am so looking forward to this ongoing adventure.

2) I'm feeling I could have done with two weeks away and am going to have another week off work shortly to reflect on things properly. I feel I did start to benefit from it - made a wee crack in that shell so to speak - and it was really good meeting such a lovely, understanding and caring group of people - so thank you.

P.S. Have just received a fuller text review of 'Solitude': 'I'm finding myself taking wonderful deep breaths and saying YES as I read the pages. It's a gift for those who can receive it.'

Come on, Amazon, you can do it.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 10:42 AM | Comments (0)

I'm sorry about solitude

I'm really very sorry Amazon have been so poor with regard to delivering your precious copy of 'Solitude'.

I know many of you have been told that you will not receive it until December 16th. What??!?

Stunned amazement this end because there is no reason for this. The suppliers are as baffled as we are. (The suppliers are in England yet the book, while unavailable on Amazon.co.uk is available on Amazon.com, the American cousin. Mystery.)

Please make your complaints known to Amazon via customer service sites. We may be able to shift things a little or alot.

The birth has been difficult. 'Solitude - recovering the power of alone' has been launched into the world with a fanfare of cold unavailability. So disappointment, yes.

But with that feeling noted and released, the only way is up. We shall overcome. (A e books are unaffected.)

P.S. The only review I've had is from a woman who brought a copy from me yesterday and started reading it on the train going home. She texted me to say, 'It's compulsive reading - but hopefully a good compulsion.'

P.P.S. Do keep me informed as to how your copy is doing. What have you been told? Has it arrived? Are you enjoying it? etc. We're in this together.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 09:59 AM | Comments (0)

November 04, 2011

Ruined?

Whatever the weather, the view from my bedroom was endlessly compelling. There before me were the ruins of the once proud and wealthy Glastonbury Abbey and I found myself thinking of St Paul's.

As you will know if you follow this blog, I was recently leading a retreat in Abbey House. (Some reviews of the week have been appearing here and there'll be another along later.)

Abbey House overlooks the haunting remains of Glastonbury Abbey. It was one of 800 abbeys in England that were 'dissolved' in the reign of Henry 8th. 1539 was the year the king's men came to strip the assets of this well-endowed institution and the ending was cruel. When the abbot Richard Whyting resisted he was hanged, drawn and quartered for treason on Glastonbury Tor.

But I've known St Pauls Cathedral for longer than I've known the Abbey. I was ordained priest there in 1985 and often attended Maundy Thursday services. I've preached there a couple of times in the amply-spaced pulpit - it's the size of a small church; been a tourist in the Whispering Gallery and for a couple of years I was on the pastoral rota explaining to anxious enquirers that there were no toilets on the premises (times have changed, I believe) and calling for quiet on the hour to lead the assembled sight-seers in prayer.

And of course most important of all, it features in the best song in Mary Poppins, my favorite children's film: 'Feed the birds, tuppence a bag'. Ahh!

In their different times, both the abbey and cathedral have symbolised great wealth. The abbey capitalised on the fortuitous 'discovery' of the bones of King Arthur in 1191 making it an essential visit for pilgrims; while the beautiful St Paul's seems very at home amid the financial institutions which surround and support it, prompting one of the protestors, dressed as Jesus, to carry the sign 'I threw out the money lenders for a reason.'

But now the abbey is a ruin. After the dissolution, it was stripped of lead and its dressed stones carried away to be used in other buildings, while St Paul's, cut off momentarily from the cash-cow of tourism, is at least briefly reminded of its own mortality.

Virginia Woolf was in favour of suffering. 'I like people to be unhappy,' she said, 'because I like them to have souls. We all have, doubtless, but I like the suffering soul which confesses itself. I distrust this hard, this shiny, this enamelled content.' She believed suffering made people more human, less hard - reminding them who they were and the same can be true of institutions.

The abbey remains a Grade 1 listed building but its grandeur now lies not in its pomp but in brokenness and dismantlement. One glory has been exchanged for another and although it's humiliating to lose your roof, it does reveal the big sky which is a greater wonder.

The old St Paul's Cahedral died in the Great Fire of London in 1666 but the new St Paul's, touched by the genius of Wren, famously survived the blitz of WW2 and though hurt by resignations and legal wrangle, will survive protestors as well.

If it lives to point the broken and dismantled to a brighter and kinder sky, we shall be glad.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 09:20 AM | Comments (0)

November 02, 2011

More from Glastonbury

People often come on the Glastonbury retreats having been stimulated or challenged by the ideas in a book. But on arrival, it ceases to be about any book and becomes the story of themselves.

It's our emotional truth that becomes the adventure, rather than any clever ideas. This can be disconcerting because few are aware of their well-buried emotional truth and its hidden force in their lives.

But it's also healing because wherever there's truth there's healing. Our bodies know what's best, which is a theme touched on in the third reflection of the week I've received from the participants.

Here it is:

'If you are drawn to the Beautiful Life retreat but are plagued by doubts and reservations, my advice is 'go for it'. Listen to your inner voice - it knows that you are ready.

I have been home for a couple of days now, I've had time to reflect on my days in Glastonbury with Simon and all my good friends and I know that the whole experience has been of immeasurable value to me.

It's hard to put it into words. You really have to experience it for yourself. But if you relax and open your heart the 'Glastonbury Experience' will move you a step close to whatever it is you are looking for - just like it did for me. The whole thing was truly wonderful - the people, the atmosphere, the food, the laughter, the tears and above all the trust and gentle acceptance.

I've been struggling for years to find a way of being that would make my life more beautiful - I found it in the safety and seclusion of Glastonbury - you can too.'

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 09:56 AM | Comments (0)

November 01, 2011

How went the retreat?

So, another retreat at Glastonbury put to bed. What sort of people come?

Brave people in the main, from all sorts of crafts, callings and professions. Among the 22 participants this year we had a Spanish entrepreneur, a builder, a former radio presenter, a train consultant, a civil servant, a teacher, a psychology lecturer, a nursery teacher, a social worker, someone taking time-out from work and two employees of the Royal Shakespeare theatre in Stratford.

I'm often asked 'How did the retreat go?'

The best answer is not mine but comes from those who attended, so I'll be passing on some of the feedback over the next few days. Everyone will have a different story of course, but these are the first two reflections I've received:

1) I wasn't sure why I was going to the retreat this year - I had done it once and, after all, I am fine now - didn't need a retreat, didn't need to spend time focusing on me. But hey - Glastonbury is a beautiful place and the food at Abbey House is simply the best.

One week later, the retreat now in the past, it is unimaginable that I might not have attended. Magic occurs on Simon's retreats - he creates a space where we can explore the recesses of our deepest hidden selves - those places where long denied feelings/emotions have lain dormant; once re-awakened they refuse to be still until we take an honest look at their source and THEN - well, this is the magic of transformation.

2) I wasn't sure what to expect when I travelled to Glastonbury for Simon's 'Beautiful Life' Retreat and so it was with some trepidation that I arrived at the introductory meeting with my fellow retreatants.

I needn't have worried, for as afternoon darkened towards evening, Simon assured us all that we were safe. Safe. That's not a word much used in my vocabulary. When had I last felt truly safe?

And from that safe basis I was able to unwind and unburden without fear. At Abbey House I found refreshment of both a physical and spiritual kind. There was lightness and laughter too.

With a new trust and peace deep inside, I know the benefits of retreat are not just for October, they're for life.

Posted by Mr Bojangles at 11:03 AM | Comments (0)