Retreat reflections 2

Actually some of these thoughts predate reflection 1, but they also throw light on my holiday feelings too.

I am an introvert – I can do all the people stuff but it is an energy spend; I am told that an extrovert can recharge their energy by being with people, but that is outside my experience.

On the first night here I felt very disconnected and verging on the frustrated/annoyed without anything specific to link it to. Since then I have thought about it and think there are two reasons for my reactions.

Firstly I came here after a very intense people filled week, in some ways more than normal because I knew I would have a rest coming up and certain once a year mission moments landed in the same week.  Yes being here is a retreat, others prepare the food, I am away from my iplayer addiction (the signal here is limited to one area of the building), change of scene etc.  However I have to be up at set times for breakfast, to be sociable with folk I know from college and meet new ones.  It is not a retreat from people, just a change of people – and I was people tired, and physically tired and wanted bed and aloneness. (I don’t say quiet because I like my radio and TV and don’t like total silence, but they don’t need me to respond, or pay any regard to them, they are just there).

This issue is part of my problem with ‘going away’ holidays. As a lone traveller I don’t feel the benefit that comes from shared experiences, a passing joke on something spotted etc.  But to gain that would mean the energy demanding level of sociability with others on the activity, trip etc, and that is not the rest I need.

The second issue is that I am spending time with people I have not seen much, or at all, since we were in college, back when I was at my deepest depths emotionally.  Although I (and they) have changed dramatically since those days it is still a strange mix. I guess part of it is that I know them, but I don’t, because I wasn’t able to relate well at that stage, yet feel I should. Then there is the element of relational reversion – eg when staying with parents as an adult you all find yourselves emotionally responding as you did before you left home. It is easier to fall into an old pattern of being than to work out a new one when time is limited.  And so that first night I found being around old college friends brought a tension between the old and new versions of me at some semi-conscious level – and that too is tiring.

Today has been the silent day, I was able to go around not being sociable, I had my aloneness space and feel so much better for it.

Retreat reflections 1

I am on retreat preparing for ordination. In the Methodist church this is done after a couple of years on the job so can feel very different to the experience when it comes between college and the strange new life of the dog collar.  It is becoming a time of affirmation of who I have already become as a minister and reflecting on the experiences and habits so far.

Over a craft table I was talking with one of the retreat leaders, and she was asking about holidays.  I said I was going to Iona in the autumn – good – with a neighbouring church group – bad, this is not holiday but work apparently.  Then followed a discussion about my record in taking holidays as part of caring for myself – a conversation in which I came off badly.

In my first year I went on a week to Spain, a package trip with coach tours and sightseeing – my first encounter with the package holiday. Since then I have stuck to staying with friends and family, and having time off at home.  The last is considered a no-no in this job when the house is part of the job, but need it be?

Growing up we had a long period of years with no family holiday, food and clothes being a touch higher on the budget agenda, and I wasn’t the worse for it in the long term. Who can define for another what is restoring for them?  Some think a tent and a week’s hiking is relaxation, others want sun and sea, I need sleep and no expectations.

When I go away I find the preparation and organising stressful, and when I am in a new place feel obliged to do the scenic stuff because it interests me and I may never pass that way again.  In Spain the day trips were interesting but tired me out and having had Chronic Fatigue in the past and still vulnerable I have to be careful, a holiday needs to be about rest.

And if I am going to rest by sleeping in, watching films or reading a book then I am too much of a miser to justify spending a fortune and facing the stress of travel to do somewhere else what I can do perfectly well at home.  

What is important to me is that time of work is restful and restorative, and if that can happen best at home then why shouldn’t I? I serve scattered rural churches and don’t get many unexpected knocks at the door,  and even my phone is quieter than many in this job, and I am good at ignoring both of them on my day off and so equally in weeks off.

So if it works for me... I’m fine with that

Besides if I went away every time I had time off when would the garden get done?

Knowing you; Knowing me

A couple of situations have arisen locally where people are having to wrestle with questions about how well they really know someone. The details are not for here, but the bigger questions are.

It is comforting to know that you know someone, that their moods and actions are predictable, understandable.  You can plan around that, know how to support them, care for them, or annoy them and press their buttons.  But we cannot know anyone fully, cannot be sure of the depth of emotion, depth of potential, possibility of the unexpected.

This is because we cannot fully understand ourselves, so how could we claim to understand others?

If I look back across my life I see the times I have achieved something I throught was so far beyond me - facing up to teenagers was one huge thing, and next Friday I have the repeat visit to a new batch of year 10s to talk about journey and my journey.  Equally I have found myself to be cabable of things that I thought myself too good, too moral to even contemplate, and if others knew what I really was capable of feeling and doing...

So good or bad I can surprise or shock myself, even when I think I know myself well.  So the actions of others however much we think we know them are also able to surprise or shock us. More so as we have less knowledge of the build of emotions and circumstances. And if we cannot predict our own responses, if we dare not acknowledge the range of potential in ourselves, then we cannot hope to know the mind of others.

So what happens if they seem to act out of character? Does that undermine everything else we know about them? It is easy to draw a line that separates and which claims all we thought we knew to be untrue,  it is easier perhaps than grapple with the idea that someone could do something more than, or less than, what we thought we knew them to be.

'Knowing me, knowing you, it's the best we can do' went the old song on my sister's record player.

We do the best we can at understanding ourselves and others, but there is always room to be surprised - in many directions. Sometimes that surprise may lead us to anguish and weeping, sometimes to wonder and awe. But there is always the potential to be surprised - however unsettling that may be.

Only God can fully know us, and he accepts us, with our potential for good or ill, our strengths and weaknesses. 

The testimony of a collared weeble...

Friday was a significant day, though I had had limited time to think of that during the lead up.  In 3 weeks I will be ordained, I among others will make my vows as a minister and the church, through the voice of that congregation, will shout out 'They are worthy' as we gather for that moment.

The Methodist tradition is to ordain us after a couple of years on the job, the final testing and confirmation of our call to this, and we are gathered from across the country to one area - where the Conference meets that year.  Before we go it has become the norm for each district to hold a Testimony Service - where the about to be ordained speak of the journey to this moment among supporters and friends from the local churches.

As I said, I had been busy - and between Jubilee events and a double bank holiday trouble just remembering what day I was on! Friday's service was neither a hoop to be jumped (past assessment now) nor was it the main event, so I had approached it lightly.

On the night though it turned out to be quite emotional, and as for my testimony it wouldn't be honest if it wasn't about the wobbles and the time when I thought I would never get to be a minister because I could hardly hold it together as a person.  Somehow God had other plans, and even the church believed in me, paying to keep me in college and fund counseling for that year of major reassembly.

Today one of the set readings for church was the end of a chapter* in the part of the Bible where early leaders wrote to the first churches.  It follows on from the description of Christians as clay jars, God's treasure is within, but on the outside we can be fragile, chipped and more than a little mottled.

Rather than a clay jar, I'll settle for being a clay weeble, thankful that we don't have the responsibilty for trying to shine like the treasure, just hold it, and the more cracks we have the more the light can shine out.

* 2 Corinthians 3

Just pick up the phone...

Why is the phone so scary?

It has been the case for me since before I worked at an office.  Being there made it clear that I actually avoided phoning out if I could help it. I used to wait until those nearest me in the open plan office were on break or lunch before I phoned a customer.  For some reason I feared that I would mess it up, and didn't want any witnesses to that. And as for the need to call one of the engineers on their mobiles when as well as the usual fears they may be driving and answer anyway (before the no phone and drive rules), my anxiety was so high.

Answering the phone was a different matter - it had to be answered in 3 rings so no time to run the fear through my mind, just had to react and cope. Strangely enough it was always ok. It has struck me again how I am much more comfortable with text or email and how I have to pysch myself up for a phone call, and am relieved to get an answerphone!  Even when it is people I know well...

Why is that?  I think it has to do with not having the cues from face to face yet a phone call has the immediate 'now' impact - my first response, the risk of foot in mouth, not my carefully worded, and able to revise before I send, message.  Yet I am comfortable in the moment with the face to face, I am known to 'busk'  sermons - well brewed but not spelled out in words until I eyeball the congregation. Part of the calling out anxiety is that I am interrupting people, demanding their attention in that moment, and who was I to do that?


I have changed in so many ways over the years, especially since my breakdown and the rebuilding after that. But the deep avoidance is still there - given a choice I will always prefer the written than the phone.  It can be tricky at times when dealing with people who are the opposite - who avoid the written form because it is one way and prefer the to and fro of the conversation even if on the phone.

Should I be over this, or try to? or is it just a part of who I am?

Actually it has been impeding my work, I put off calling to see how someone is, saying I will wait until I see them face to face - but knowing that time eats away at that possibility.  A 5 min call once a week would be so good for people to know they are remembered and thought of, and I would feel less guilty about the visits that don't quite happen. 

If I could just be braver about picking up the phone...

Jubilee - What does it mean to you?

Right now there is union flag bunting in every direction, soggy in the rain maybe, but unavoidably there.  The Olympic torch came through the area last week and it started then, but has been breeding!

This is the first time I can recall being this submerged in such depth of patriotism, correction - I do have vague memories of 1981 royal wedding sandwiches in the street, but age 6 I was not in reflective mode.

On the monarchist/republican debate I am very much on that wide and crowded apathetic fence but if forced off the fence would probably lean to the status quo, things have got to be worth the fuss of any change. However today - Jubilee Sunday - I have had to face up to my republican tendancies. Unlike the state church we don't single out 'Elizabeth our Queen' for special focus in public prayers, though regularly praying for those in leadership and positions of influence in our world. Today I did pray for the Queen in our Methodist service which linked to Jubilee but wasn't centred on it. Then in the village Songs of Praise I noted the difference between my approach and the vicar's focus on praising Her Majesty.

Maybe I am uncomfortable with too much royal effusiveness,I am not an Olympic fan either - just not sport aware - but I am fully behind the bunting and street parties. So why the difference?

Well here in Britain we lack a true national day, no independence day, and the saints days are for the individual bits of the United Kingdom. The best chance we have on an annual basis is Bonfire night and that is just a touch complicated. It has been good to celebrate ourselves and our communities, whether that was crowds on the high street waiting for the brief passing of a flame, or marking the 60 years of Elizabeth's reign.

I have seen communities gather together for special events, networking different groups, giving a focus for morale in difficult times.  Now this is in rural England - I can't comment on other contexts, but see it as having been good for us around here.  Though I will still remind people that our hymns of praise are to our God and heavenly King, not our earthly Queen, however wonderful she may be.