Last year my Mum got her DNA test results, or more accurately her brother's in order to get both male and female lines. It turns out that my Granny's side of things is far from dominated by the Yorkshire heritage she proudly lay claim to, but instead is a mere 9% English and the largest component 28% Yemeni. Probably just as well she's long gone, I don't think she'd be very impressed with that result!
I realized when discussing this with a fellow genealogist recently that I knew next to nothing about Yemen other than it currently being in a civil war mess. How on earth could we have ended up with such a large percentage of that bloodline? Were there British connections with the area? Well a quick look at Wikipedia the other day highlighted a gaping hole in my historical knowledge and I discovered yet another example of British colonialism in the Aden Protectorate. Well I guess it was appropriate enough reading for Waitangi Day.
I didn't get that far though as it was time to head down the road to see Phyllis and I've still yet to get back to reading more, but I mean to. I'm really intrigued as to which branch(es?) of the family connect to there. How did they end up in Britain? It could be through the East India (shipping) Company base in Aden, but given the rather turbulent history of the region it's not impossible they were refugees, a sobering thought given the current state of the world, and the USA restrictions on refugees from Yemen. There but for the grace of god....
We already knew we had a family history of emigration from the UK out around the world, not to mention extensive migration around the British Isles, but now we have a new chapter of immigration to explore. Given our apparent lack of ability to stay in the same place for more than a couple of generations I wouldn't be at all surprised to find nomadic roots near the surface on all arms of the family tree, not just Granny W's!
Showing posts with label identity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label identity. Show all posts
Monday, February 20, 2017
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
All welcome?
We don't have many Meeting Houses in this country (eight according to our Yearly Meeting Documents in Advance), and I've not yet been to them all, but I'm reasonably sure all of them say 'All welcome' on their signs outside.
Yet I heard in the last week of someone who had grown up part of the Quaker whānau going Meeting recently and when being asked what he was doing these days basically got told 'you can't do that and be a Quaker'.
I remember some years back discovering that the only Quaker MP sitting in Westminster at the time was a member of the Conservative party. Not the most common political party of choice in the UK amongst Friends, but he wasn't asked to leave or be quiet about being a Quaker. I accepted that even though I might not agree with his politics, and wondered how on earth he balanced his political and religious beliefs, that he was entitled to them, and after all when asking George Fox about wearing a sword William Penn was told to 'wear it as long as thou canst'. In other words your conscience, that still small voice, that of god in you, will let you know when you can no longer maintain seemingly opposing stances and you will know which you have to follow.
If someone comes to one of our Meetings apparently holding values different to those commonly accepted by Quakers what is more likely to bring them round to our way of thinking; being told they can't do/be/believe something and be a Quaker, or being made to feel welcome? A better response would have been 'well you don't find many of those amongst Friends, but I'm glad you still felt that you could come to Meeting' or 'that's an interesting choice, what led you to choose that?' If we want people to reconsider their actions then surely in the quiet of Meeting and in the heart of our community is the best place for them to do so, and it is less likely to happen if they are made to feel unwelcome and unwanted. It can take a lot of courage and psyching yourself up to attend Meeting when you know that what you do is likely to be considered unpopular; to still go anyway because you need that space to worship among Friends is not a decision that will have been taken lightly. To answer honestly when asked 'what are you doing these days?' rather than give an effacing answer that will be more palatable takes courage and integrity.
It isn't a situation that only those with occupations generally perceived to be 'unquakerly' who experience this kind of response when they come to Meeting. I've regularly come across Young Friends who when making it to Meeting for Worship for the first time in ages are basically harangued for not coming more often and expected to explain the absence of others of their peer group. Do we expect any other age group to have to explain themselves if they erratically attend, and vouch for their peer group who they may not have seen in months, maybe even years? And then Friends wonder why our Young Friends don't come to Meeting more often.
If we're going to have signs up saying 'All Welcome' then we need to mean it and live it.
Yet I heard in the last week of someone who had grown up part of the Quaker whānau going Meeting recently and when being asked what he was doing these days basically got told 'you can't do that and be a Quaker'.
I remember some years back discovering that the only Quaker MP sitting in Westminster at the time was a member of the Conservative party. Not the most common political party of choice in the UK amongst Friends, but he wasn't asked to leave or be quiet about being a Quaker. I accepted that even though I might not agree with his politics, and wondered how on earth he balanced his political and religious beliefs, that he was entitled to them, and after all when asking George Fox about wearing a sword William Penn was told to 'wear it as long as thou canst'. In other words your conscience, that still small voice, that of god in you, will let you know when you can no longer maintain seemingly opposing stances and you will know which you have to follow.
If someone comes to one of our Meetings apparently holding values different to those commonly accepted by Quakers what is more likely to bring them round to our way of thinking; being told they can't do/be/believe something and be a Quaker, or being made to feel welcome? A better response would have been 'well you don't find many of those amongst Friends, but I'm glad you still felt that you could come to Meeting' or 'that's an interesting choice, what led you to choose that?' If we want people to reconsider their actions then surely in the quiet of Meeting and in the heart of our community is the best place for them to do so, and it is less likely to happen if they are made to feel unwelcome and unwanted. It can take a lot of courage and psyching yourself up to attend Meeting when you know that what you do is likely to be considered unpopular; to still go anyway because you need that space to worship among Friends is not a decision that will have been taken lightly. To answer honestly when asked 'what are you doing these days?' rather than give an effacing answer that will be more palatable takes courage and integrity.
It isn't a situation that only those with occupations generally perceived to be 'unquakerly' who experience this kind of response when they come to Meeting. I've regularly come across Young Friends who when making it to Meeting for Worship for the first time in ages are basically harangued for not coming more often and expected to explain the absence of others of their peer group. Do we expect any other age group to have to explain themselves if they erratically attend, and vouch for their peer group who they may not have seen in months, maybe even years? And then Friends wonder why our Young Friends don't come to Meeting more often.
If we're going to have signs up saying 'All Welcome' then we need to mean it and live it.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
rights and responsibilities
Well I've finally made it, I've got my citizenship of Aotearoa New Zealand. It has taken a few months over ten years since I moved here and I really don't want to think about how many dollars the Depts of Immigration, and Internal Affairs have had out of me between them along the way, and there's still a passport to pay for! However no matter what happens to the rules and regulations about permanent residents I know I'm safely ensconced here and I can come and go (once I've obtained aforementioned passport) whenever I like.
It was a strange experience going to the ceremony and affirming my loyalty to Queen and country (Queen Elizabeth II of New Zealand that is, quite who they think QEI was I don't know). For some there it was a obviously a very emotional event. I'm not really one for ceremony and dignitaries etc, and I probably have a rather cynical view of such proceedings, I would've been quite happy just getting a letter in the post. But it was nice to be able to go through the ceremony in the atrium at Te Ahu which I'm rather fond of, and to be able to have Phyllis and William with me in support.
In many ways though it felt like rubber stamping; transferring my Quaker membership here felt like it had far more significance to me emotionally, and spiritually. Getting citizenship has been the legal side of things. As we were about to head over I said to Phyllis that I felt like I was dressed for a wedding; something old (my brooches), something new (my shawl), something borrowed (Nancy's shoes) and something blue (the shawl again). I've known a few folk who've got the legal side of their weddings done separately from the more meaningful (to them) celebration of their relationship and commitment and it does all feel rather similar, albeit lacking any kind of party 8yrs or so ago when I was formally handed over from the care of South East Scotland MM (or no doubt Area Meeting by then) of Britain YM to Waitemata North MM of the YM of Aotearoa New Zealand.
The way many Kiwis have become second class citizens in Australia in recent years, with limited or no rights to citizenship, benefits, education grants for them or their children etc etc etc has certainly been an extra incentive to ensure I did get my citizenship here. Thankfully our Government hasn't stooped to playing the same game against the Aussies, or those from any other country, yet, but to be quite honest I wouldn't put it past them. Especially now Britain has started removing rights Kiwis have previously had to health care whilst in the UK. When folk jokingly or otherwise had suggested in the past that I take the 'green card' route to residency I'd pointed out that aside from the dearth of eligible options I wouldn't want my ability to stay in the country to hang on my ability to stay in a relationship. Nor would I want it to hang on my ability to stay healthy! I don't exactly have an outstanding track record on either front, and yes the two have certainly been related at times.
There have been various occasions over the years when people I know well have risked getting arrested whilst taking part in non-violent direct action. I've never dared take part in case it affected my ability to stay here. As Kiwis are being bundled off to detention camps ready for deportation from Australia for being of 'bad character' or having clocked up a cumulative two years in jail again it is a reality that if the powers that be decide they don't like you they can kick you out if you aren't a citizen. We won't go into the irony of Australia kicking convicts out whilst still considering their convict early settlers to be next to royalty! It doesn't matter why you were in jail either; so clocking up jail time from protesting against weapons trade fairs, or against keeping refugee children in detention camps where there is torture and other human rights abuses going on would have you treated the same way as someone done for fire arms offences or grievous bodily harm. Now I'm not about to rush out and get myself arrested at the next protest march (they can still stop my benefits!), but at least my concerns on that front now are the same as the next Kiwi's, and there is certainly plenty to protest about. I'm not sure if my British citizenship (which I retain) would protect me from being treated like a second class citizen in Australia or not now I'm a Kiwi, but as I have absolutely no desire to live there (too many nasty poisonous bitey things, and that's just the politicians....) it is a moot point.
So yes, I'm proud to be a Kiwi and it is most definitely home, but that means taking the rough with the smooth. Much as we like to describe this country as paradise it is a relative term, and there is much room for improvement. I see part of my responsibilities as a citizen are to challenge the inequalities; to speak truth to power; to be part of kicking up a noisy fuss when things aren't right; especially on behalf of those who, like I was just a few days ago, don't yet have the security of knowing their place here is permanent.
It was a strange experience going to the ceremony and affirming my loyalty to Queen and country (Queen Elizabeth II of New Zealand that is, quite who they think QEI was I don't know). For some there it was a obviously a very emotional event. I'm not really one for ceremony and dignitaries etc, and I probably have a rather cynical view of such proceedings, I would've been quite happy just getting a letter in the post. But it was nice to be able to go through the ceremony in the atrium at Te Ahu which I'm rather fond of, and to be able to have Phyllis and William with me in support.
In many ways though it felt like rubber stamping; transferring my Quaker membership here felt like it had far more significance to me emotionally, and spiritually. Getting citizenship has been the legal side of things. As we were about to head over I said to Phyllis that I felt like I was dressed for a wedding; something old (my brooches), something new (my shawl), something borrowed (Nancy's shoes) and something blue (the shawl again). I've known a few folk who've got the legal side of their weddings done separately from the more meaningful (to them) celebration of their relationship and commitment and it does all feel rather similar, albeit lacking any kind of party 8yrs or so ago when I was formally handed over from the care of South East Scotland MM (or no doubt Area Meeting by then) of Britain YM to Waitemata North MM of the YM of Aotearoa New Zealand.
The way many Kiwis have become second class citizens in Australia in recent years, with limited or no rights to citizenship, benefits, education grants for them or their children etc etc etc has certainly been an extra incentive to ensure I did get my citizenship here. Thankfully our Government hasn't stooped to playing the same game against the Aussies, or those from any other country, yet, but to be quite honest I wouldn't put it past them. Especially now Britain has started removing rights Kiwis have previously had to health care whilst in the UK. When folk jokingly or otherwise had suggested in the past that I take the 'green card' route to residency I'd pointed out that aside from the dearth of eligible options I wouldn't want my ability to stay in the country to hang on my ability to stay in a relationship. Nor would I want it to hang on my ability to stay healthy! I don't exactly have an outstanding track record on either front, and yes the two have certainly been related at times.
There have been various occasions over the years when people I know well have risked getting arrested whilst taking part in non-violent direct action. I've never dared take part in case it affected my ability to stay here. As Kiwis are being bundled off to detention camps ready for deportation from Australia for being of 'bad character' or having clocked up a cumulative two years in jail again it is a reality that if the powers that be decide they don't like you they can kick you out if you aren't a citizen. We won't go into the irony of Australia kicking convicts out whilst still considering their convict early settlers to be next to royalty! It doesn't matter why you were in jail either; so clocking up jail time from protesting against weapons trade fairs, or against keeping refugee children in detention camps where there is torture and other human rights abuses going on would have you treated the same way as someone done for fire arms offences or grievous bodily harm. Now I'm not about to rush out and get myself arrested at the next protest march (they can still stop my benefits!), but at least my concerns on that front now are the same as the next Kiwi's, and there is certainly plenty to protest about. I'm not sure if my British citizenship (which I retain) would protect me from being treated like a second class citizen in Australia or not now I'm a Kiwi, but as I have absolutely no desire to live there (too many nasty poisonous bitey things, and that's just the politicians....) it is a moot point.
So yes, I'm proud to be a Kiwi and it is most definitely home, but that means taking the rough with the smooth. Much as we like to describe this country as paradise it is a relative term, and there is much room for improvement. I see part of my responsibilities as a citizen are to challenge the inequalities; to speak truth to power; to be part of kicking up a noisy fuss when things aren't right; especially on behalf of those who, like I was just a few days ago, don't yet have the security of knowing their place here is permanent.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
And another one gone, and another one gone, another one bites the dust...
You know I'm getting pretty hōhā with 2016, or as some of my younger f/Friends Stateside would put it 'enough already!'
Yesterday came the announcement that yet another artist who's work makes up the soundtrack of my own life has died prematurely. Part of me is thinking that there must be a party somewhere with one heck of guest list or jam session, regardless of the fact that I have no idea really whether I believe in life after death or not, and if there is what form it might take. But it's the sort of thing that we console ourselves with though when grieving, when logic has no place.
When David Bowie died, shortly followed by Alan Rickman, I was trying to get my head around the why the passing of someone I'd never met felt like such a kick in the guts. It's not like I'd plastered my walls with posters of them, nor been a fanatical follower. Sure I have several David Bowie albums, consider a good few of Alan Rickman's films to be up there amongst my favourites of all time, and yes I too bought Black's album on the strength of 'Wonderful Life' alone but I never bought any others, nor had even realized there were any until reading Colin Vearncombe's obituary today. It was this tweet seen on Facebook though that helped made sense of what I was feeling "Thinking about how we mourn artists we've never met. We don't cry because we knew them, we cry because they helped us know ourselves." And, as I said before, precisely because they make up the soundtrack of our own lives.
There are lyrics that resonate with us, that make sense of our own tangled emotions, that let us know we aren't alone in feeling that way. In the same way there are characters portrayed in films that speak to us on a deeper level. But there are also the songs and scenes that stay with us because of associated memories of where we were, who we were with, who we've sat with endlessly quoting lines back and forth or even just listened to others doing just that.
After a year watching several new film versions of Robin Hood, on top of repeated viewing of the videos of the TV series the one thing our uni crowd was unanimous about was that Rickman's Sheriff of Nottingham outshone the rest by far. He more than made up for the dodgy accents and Forestry Commission forests complete with signs masquerading as Sherwood, not to mention the really lousy geography. When the clip of him cancelling Christmas was shown during the obituary on the news it wasn't just Alan Rickman's brilliant acting I was seeing encapsulated in a few seconds, but 25yrs or so of friendships, and a whole gamut of Robin Hood books, films, songs and associated memories of which he was such a defining part of. It felt like my own life was flashing before my eyes rather than his acting career. And that's just one of his stellar performances.
Fran was saying on Facebook that her boss had set the office homework to come in with their favourite Bowie track after the weekend. One track???? It's just as well I wasn't expected to do the same! I realized as I worked my way through the many Bowie tracks shared on social media as well as my own itunes library that I couldn't choose any track purely on musical merit. It depends on so much; what mood I'm in, what do I want to be reminded of? The fact that David Bowie managed to cover such a wide breadth of styles over so many decades means there's pretty much a suitable track for any occasion! No wonder his work has touched so many of us; his songs transport me back to many places, times and people that have been important to me and/or define a time in one way or another. Many bands and artists have those sorts of connections for me, but Bowie represents some of the most diverse and numerous. Bowie reinvented himself and his image time after time, he was always just that little bit different, but that was okay. A good reminder to have when you find yourself feeling like a square peg in a round hole. Hopefully I can expect to see out at least another three decades and it doesn't seem quite right to think that there will be no more new Bowie tracks to define them, obviously that day was inevitable, but I wasn't quite ready for it to happen. There is a sadness for the loss of what might have been created.
'No need to laugh, and cry, it's a wonderful, wonderful life...' a song that has probably made it's way on to more compilation tapes and cds that I've put together over the years than any other. In my minds eye the song conjours up the dreadful carpets and wallpaper in our Croydon Rd flat and other images from the time, but it also makes me think of the many people since then who I've passed the song on to. Perhaps in doing so making it part of their life story at a different time.
I can't say as I felt any personal sense of loss when Lemmy or the guy from Rainbow (the band not the tv show!) died recently, their music not really being quite my cup of tea, but the fact that there seemed to be so many not quite making their three score year and ten all in a rush does still seem a bit much (okay for the pedants amongst you Lemmy had passed 70, but only by four days...). There is an expectation now that people live longer than that, especially those who can afford decent health care, even those whose lifestyle might be described as burning the candle at both ends for many years. These days seventy seems too young. Musicians and actors that are contemporaries of my parents are suddenly dropping like flies... it's no wonder really that it is getting so many of my generation worried. We're not ready to be the older generation yet!
Yesterday came the announcement that yet another artist who's work makes up the soundtrack of my own life has died prematurely. Part of me is thinking that there must be a party somewhere with one heck of guest list or jam session, regardless of the fact that I have no idea really whether I believe in life after death or not, and if there is what form it might take. But it's the sort of thing that we console ourselves with though when grieving, when logic has no place.
When David Bowie died, shortly followed by Alan Rickman, I was trying to get my head around the why the passing of someone I'd never met felt like such a kick in the guts. It's not like I'd plastered my walls with posters of them, nor been a fanatical follower. Sure I have several David Bowie albums, consider a good few of Alan Rickman's films to be up there amongst my favourites of all time, and yes I too bought Black's album on the strength of 'Wonderful Life' alone but I never bought any others, nor had even realized there were any until reading Colin Vearncombe's obituary today. It was this tweet seen on Facebook though that helped made sense of what I was feeling "Thinking about how we mourn artists we've never met. We don't cry because we knew them, we cry because they helped us know ourselves." And, as I said before, precisely because they make up the soundtrack of our own lives.
There are lyrics that resonate with us, that make sense of our own tangled emotions, that let us know we aren't alone in feeling that way. In the same way there are characters portrayed in films that speak to us on a deeper level. But there are also the songs and scenes that stay with us because of associated memories of where we were, who we were with, who we've sat with endlessly quoting lines back and forth or even just listened to others doing just that.
After a year watching several new film versions of Robin Hood, on top of repeated viewing of the videos of the TV series the one thing our uni crowd was unanimous about was that Rickman's Sheriff of Nottingham outshone the rest by far. He more than made up for the dodgy accents and Forestry Commission forests complete with signs masquerading as Sherwood, not to mention the really lousy geography. When the clip of him cancelling Christmas was shown during the obituary on the news it wasn't just Alan Rickman's brilliant acting I was seeing encapsulated in a few seconds, but 25yrs or so of friendships, and a whole gamut of Robin Hood books, films, songs and associated memories of which he was such a defining part of. It felt like my own life was flashing before my eyes rather than his acting career. And that's just one of his stellar performances.
Fran was saying on Facebook that her boss had set the office homework to come in with their favourite Bowie track after the weekend. One track???? It's just as well I wasn't expected to do the same! I realized as I worked my way through the many Bowie tracks shared on social media as well as my own itunes library that I couldn't choose any track purely on musical merit. It depends on so much; what mood I'm in, what do I want to be reminded of? The fact that David Bowie managed to cover such a wide breadth of styles over so many decades means there's pretty much a suitable track for any occasion! No wonder his work has touched so many of us; his songs transport me back to many places, times and people that have been important to me and/or define a time in one way or another. Many bands and artists have those sorts of connections for me, but Bowie represents some of the most diverse and numerous. Bowie reinvented himself and his image time after time, he was always just that little bit different, but that was okay. A good reminder to have when you find yourself feeling like a square peg in a round hole. Hopefully I can expect to see out at least another three decades and it doesn't seem quite right to think that there will be no more new Bowie tracks to define them, obviously that day was inevitable, but I wasn't quite ready for it to happen. There is a sadness for the loss of what might have been created.
'No need to laugh, and cry, it's a wonderful, wonderful life...' a song that has probably made it's way on to more compilation tapes and cds that I've put together over the years than any other. In my minds eye the song conjours up the dreadful carpets and wallpaper in our Croydon Rd flat and other images from the time, but it also makes me think of the many people since then who I've passed the song on to. Perhaps in doing so making it part of their life story at a different time.
I can't say as I felt any personal sense of loss when Lemmy or the guy from Rainbow (the band not the tv show!) died recently, their music not really being quite my cup of tea, but the fact that there seemed to be so many not quite making their three score year and ten all in a rush does still seem a bit much (okay for the pedants amongst you Lemmy had passed 70, but only by four days...). There is an expectation now that people live longer than that, especially those who can afford decent health care, even those whose lifestyle might be described as burning the candle at both ends for many years. These days seventy seems too young. Musicians and actors that are contemporaries of my parents are suddenly dropping like flies... it's no wonder really that it is getting so many of my generation worried. We're not ready to be the older generation yet!
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
leftover from last year
I wrote this last year, but for some reason didn't quite get around to clicking on 'publish' before Christmas and heading off to Summer Gathering...
Well I'm getting there! I now have my much loved American cabinet and the blanket box out of storage and in my room, and my small bookcase full of children's paperbacks. However even with the best will in the world the larger bookcase and my chair will not fit and still leave me with enough room to actually get from the door to my bed, so they remain where they are... for now!
It was quite nostalgic going through the contents of the blanket box which had been filled to the brim with 'stuff'. Anything I couldn't remember either owning, or the origins of and had no immediate need for went in the 'get rid of' box. There were a couple of things that have long since been replaced and they too have been passed on. Having unpacked everything and sorted through it all I then began to repack the blanket box with the kitchen stuff I don't currently need, and then started filling up the remaining space with various odds and ends. But then I stopped and thought about it.If I'm trying to downsize to a Tiny House kind of quantity of belongings then I have to not only be able to fit it all in my bedroom, but if it can't be useful in this sized space then why keep it? There won't be room in a Tiny House for storing things for 'one day I might live somewhere bigger'! So the pictures in frames and stained glass came back out, and a couple of ornaments that have too much sentimental value to part with. And yes I found space for them, albeit with deciding to part with a few other things that had been previously taking up that space. A few things did go in the blanket box though earmarked for gifting on to particular individuals at some future point in time.
It feels very satisfying to have more of my belongings around me, rather than them scattered to the winds. There is a lot of history, my history and family history, represented by the things that have survived several decluttering culls. Everything has a story behind it, although there's one rather pristine looking paua pendant that I can't quite place, but I've hung it anyway on my 'mobile' of necklaces made from an embroidery hoop and a spare cord.
And you know what? I still have free cupboard space and my room doesn't feel overcrowded. Okay so the pile of Christmas presents and the pile of stuff gradually accumulating to pack to take to Summer Gathering does take away from the overall picture of an organized living space, but it is still very much livable in. It made me realize just how much I must have got rid of during this major declutter. Also it makes me realize that I might just be able to pull off this total downsizing thing after all! Which means one less hurdle in the way of doing so. An exciting, liberating, but also slightly scary thought.
Years ago the idea was mooted at a Young Friends camp for a bunch of our generation getting together at some indeterminate point in the future and forming an intentional community, a bit like the Quaker Settlement, but not at the Settlement. There were various reasons why a different set-up was felt to be preferable, and probably a totally incompatible combination of ideas as to what it could comprise of. But practicalities didn't matter as it was a 'one day in the future' idea rather than a 'lets do it now!' one. However almost 9 yrs down the track and several children later, the idea has resurfaced, suggestions as to a where have been made and there's even a possible site... and including Tiny Houses in the overall scheme of things has been suggested as one couple are in the process of building theirs! Well the timing isn't right for me if the current suggestion goes ahead, but it opens up another possible future option, whether they manage to set something up sooner or later. Again an exciting, but slightly scary thought. And then an email came through about a Quaker women's cooperative house possibility, again an immediate option that wouldn't work for me, but an new idea to mull over....
Thankfully I don't need to decide anything right now, but Leith's words in a conversation we had at the WGYF+10 event keep coming back to me; we were discussing employment rather than living circumstances at the time, but it is just as relevant. I was trying to explain my inability to articulate quite what it was I felt called to do in life, and she astutely asked 'is that because you don't know what you are called to do or because it doesn't exist yet?' Part of my Tiny House dream is to live as part of an intentional community, to have my own space, yet not be 'living alone'. I haven't explored yet whether that could be possible at the Settlement, but the fact that they are looking in to having Resident Friends has offered one possibility of a means of being there at a future date and seeing if it is the right place for me. After all I can't imagine me getting anything built in a hurry! I'm still not convinced about leaving the Far North though, but as each new option arises it helps me figure out what it is I am looking for, and where I'm being called to be. However I'm pretty certain that here is very much where I'm meant to be for now!
Well I'm getting there! I now have my much loved American cabinet and the blanket box out of storage and in my room, and my small bookcase full of children's paperbacks. However even with the best will in the world the larger bookcase and my chair will not fit and still leave me with enough room to actually get from the door to my bed, so they remain where they are... for now!
It was quite nostalgic going through the contents of the blanket box which had been filled to the brim with 'stuff'. Anything I couldn't remember either owning, or the origins of and had no immediate need for went in the 'get rid of' box. There were a couple of things that have long since been replaced and they too have been passed on. Having unpacked everything and sorted through it all I then began to repack the blanket box with the kitchen stuff I don't currently need, and then started filling up the remaining space with various odds and ends. But then I stopped and thought about it.If I'm trying to downsize to a Tiny House kind of quantity of belongings then I have to not only be able to fit it all in my bedroom, but if it can't be useful in this sized space then why keep it? There won't be room in a Tiny House for storing things for 'one day I might live somewhere bigger'! So the pictures in frames and stained glass came back out, and a couple of ornaments that have too much sentimental value to part with. And yes I found space for them, albeit with deciding to part with a few other things that had been previously taking up that space. A few things did go in the blanket box though earmarked for gifting on to particular individuals at some future point in time.
It feels very satisfying to have more of my belongings around me, rather than them scattered to the winds. There is a lot of history, my history and family history, represented by the things that have survived several decluttering culls. Everything has a story behind it, although there's one rather pristine looking paua pendant that I can't quite place, but I've hung it anyway on my 'mobile' of necklaces made from an embroidery hoop and a spare cord.
And you know what? I still have free cupboard space and my room doesn't feel overcrowded. Okay so the pile of Christmas presents and the pile of stuff gradually accumulating to pack to take to Summer Gathering does take away from the overall picture of an organized living space, but it is still very much livable in. It made me realize just how much I must have got rid of during this major declutter. Also it makes me realize that I might just be able to pull off this total downsizing thing after all! Which means one less hurdle in the way of doing so. An exciting, liberating, but also slightly scary thought.
Years ago the idea was mooted at a Young Friends camp for a bunch of our generation getting together at some indeterminate point in the future and forming an intentional community, a bit like the Quaker Settlement, but not at the Settlement. There were various reasons why a different set-up was felt to be preferable, and probably a totally incompatible combination of ideas as to what it could comprise of. But practicalities didn't matter as it was a 'one day in the future' idea rather than a 'lets do it now!' one. However almost 9 yrs down the track and several children later, the idea has resurfaced, suggestions as to a where have been made and there's even a possible site... and including Tiny Houses in the overall scheme of things has been suggested as one couple are in the process of building theirs! Well the timing isn't right for me if the current suggestion goes ahead, but it opens up another possible future option, whether they manage to set something up sooner or later. Again an exciting, but slightly scary thought. And then an email came through about a Quaker women's cooperative house possibility, again an immediate option that wouldn't work for me, but an new idea to mull over....
Thankfully I don't need to decide anything right now, but Leith's words in a conversation we had at the WGYF+10 event keep coming back to me; we were discussing employment rather than living circumstances at the time, but it is just as relevant. I was trying to explain my inability to articulate quite what it was I felt called to do in life, and she astutely asked 'is that because you don't know what you are called to do or because it doesn't exist yet?' Part of my Tiny House dream is to live as part of an intentional community, to have my own space, yet not be 'living alone'. I haven't explored yet whether that could be possible at the Settlement, but the fact that they are looking in to having Resident Friends has offered one possibility of a means of being there at a future date and seeing if it is the right place for me. After all I can't imagine me getting anything built in a hurry! I'm still not convinced about leaving the Far North though, but as each new option arises it helps me figure out what it is I am looking for, and where I'm being called to be. However I'm pretty certain that here is very much where I'm meant to be for now!
Friday, October 30, 2015
roots
I've been doing some research into the family of my maternal grandmother, whose surname was Cox. Having never really come across the name much I was somewhat taken aback by just how common it was in the part of Gloucestershire they come from (near Stroud, should you be interested!). If that wasn't enough it appears that just about every family in the village had a daughter who was either born Ann Cox or became Ann Cox through marriage, which made tracing my Great x3 Granny even more complicated!
The menfolk have somewhat less common names; Laban, Benjamin, Ira & Reuben. So that should've be easier right? Yeah right... how can people simply disappear for a couple of decades? Or appear in a census as very much alive thank you but not appear in any Death records? Well not that we could find at first, leaving a conundrum - Laban must've died somewhere otherwise he'd be 190yrs old by now, and much as the idea appeals I didn't think we had Time Lords or Immortals in the family.
So in an attempt to make sense of some of what was going on I started looking at the bigger picture; how come so many people from Bisley, Gloucestershire ended up in Halifax, West Riding of Yorkshire around the mid 1800s, and who were they?
After trawling through the census records from 1841 (the first one done) to 1891 for the district I started tracking various families and individuals over the years. I've no idea (yet...) how many of the Cox families listed are related to me, but I found myself getting quite emotionally involved in their histories. Having studied this period for my Social & Economic History A Level, plus having read a fair amount of historical fiction set in this era, I know a reasonable amount about it. However it was one thing learning about it in an abstract fashion, and quite another following the lives and deaths of real people, especially when they might be related to me. It was sobering to see how many children simply didn't make it from one census to the next, ten years later. The oldest person I recorded was 75, and few got to more than 60. Children as young as 7 and 8 had occupations listed next to their names in the 1841 census, and the designation 'pauper' was next to several names. One was living in the workhouse and another the local orphanage, several were servants in later decades and the earlier ones were full of weavers and spinners of both wool and silk, workers at various stages of the walking stick manufacturing industry (stick cutters, varnishers, polishers and bone carvers). Watermen (whatever that may mean!), railway labourers and agricultural labourers made regular appearances but the trade that cropped up again and again was stonemasonry, and that is what took sometimes just the menfolk, but sometimes entire families, up to Halifax.
According to a local history website, the district had had a lot of textile small scale industry, both wool and silk. The industrial revolution hit the area hard in the mid 1830s and many were left out of work. I've not yet figured out what the stonemasons were all working on until the 1850s that kept them in the area, but in the 1851 and 1861 census returns there are several families where the 'head' of the household is absent and the wife listed as 'wife of a stonemason'. Family tradition has it that Halifax Town Hall was built by members of our family (plus a few hundred others no doubt...) and that seems to be born out by the number of stonemasons from Bisley, including a few Coxs, who appear in the Halifax census returns in 1861.
Eventually the mystery was solved, it turned out that there weren't two Labans in the Bisley area about 10yrs apart in age, but just the older one, and someone had stuffed up (made up?) his age on a subsequent census entry. It turns out that his son Benjamin, my G.G.Grandad was from his second marriage, and the other Coxs they are later listed as living with in Halifax are from the first marriage. The reason it was all confusing is in the earliest census returns Laban is listed as living with his first family, and in the later one in Bisley he's just with his younger family, the older children being at a different address.
So it appeared that alas, no Time Lords in the family after all. Well that was until we started trying to research Benjamin's wife Janet who appears in the marriage register, several census records and the death register, but is conspicuous by her absence from any birth registers or census returns from the part of Scotland where she was supposedly born and spent her childhood! I'm reasonably certain she didn't die from having her head lopped off with a sword though as that would've caused quite a stir in Halifax in 1917, so that at least rules out her being an Immortal! Seems we're stuck with invisible for the time being instead.
A bizarre twist to the tale has been in relating some of these research challenges to long standing friends I've found that two of them also have Cox ancestry in the family from that part of Gloucestershire! I know it has long been said that Quakers makes the world a smaller place, but I wasn't expecting to end up potentially related to people I've known over half my life who also happen to have made their home in Aotearoa NZ!
The menfolk have somewhat less common names; Laban, Benjamin, Ira & Reuben. So that should've be easier right? Yeah right... how can people simply disappear for a couple of decades? Or appear in a census as very much alive thank you but not appear in any Death records? Well not that we could find at first, leaving a conundrum - Laban must've died somewhere otherwise he'd be 190yrs old by now, and much as the idea appeals I didn't think we had Time Lords or Immortals in the family.
So in an attempt to make sense of some of what was going on I started looking at the bigger picture; how come so many people from Bisley, Gloucestershire ended up in Halifax, West Riding of Yorkshire around the mid 1800s, and who were they?
After trawling through the census records from 1841 (the first one done) to 1891 for the district I started tracking various families and individuals over the years. I've no idea (yet...) how many of the Cox families listed are related to me, but I found myself getting quite emotionally involved in their histories. Having studied this period for my Social & Economic History A Level, plus having read a fair amount of historical fiction set in this era, I know a reasonable amount about it. However it was one thing learning about it in an abstract fashion, and quite another following the lives and deaths of real people, especially when they might be related to me. It was sobering to see how many children simply didn't make it from one census to the next, ten years later. The oldest person I recorded was 75, and few got to more than 60. Children as young as 7 and 8 had occupations listed next to their names in the 1841 census, and the designation 'pauper' was next to several names. One was living in the workhouse and another the local orphanage, several were servants in later decades and the earlier ones were full of weavers and spinners of both wool and silk, workers at various stages of the walking stick manufacturing industry (stick cutters, varnishers, polishers and bone carvers). Watermen (whatever that may mean!), railway labourers and agricultural labourers made regular appearances but the trade that cropped up again and again was stonemasonry, and that is what took sometimes just the menfolk, but sometimes entire families, up to Halifax.
According to a local history website, the district had had a lot of textile small scale industry, both wool and silk. The industrial revolution hit the area hard in the mid 1830s and many were left out of work. I've not yet figured out what the stonemasons were all working on until the 1850s that kept them in the area, but in the 1851 and 1861 census returns there are several families where the 'head' of the household is absent and the wife listed as 'wife of a stonemason'. Family tradition has it that Halifax Town Hall was built by members of our family (plus a few hundred others no doubt...) and that seems to be born out by the number of stonemasons from Bisley, including a few Coxs, who appear in the Halifax census returns in 1861.
Eventually the mystery was solved, it turned out that there weren't two Labans in the Bisley area about 10yrs apart in age, but just the older one, and someone had stuffed up (made up?) his age on a subsequent census entry. It turns out that his son Benjamin, my G.G.Grandad was from his second marriage, and the other Coxs they are later listed as living with in Halifax are from the first marriage. The reason it was all confusing is in the earliest census returns Laban is listed as living with his first family, and in the later one in Bisley he's just with his younger family, the older children being at a different address.
So it appeared that alas, no Time Lords in the family after all. Well that was until we started trying to research Benjamin's wife Janet who appears in the marriage register, several census records and the death register, but is conspicuous by her absence from any birth registers or census returns from the part of Scotland where she was supposedly born and spent her childhood! I'm reasonably certain she didn't die from having her head lopped off with a sword though as that would've caused quite a stir in Halifax in 1917, so that at least rules out her being an Immortal! Seems we're stuck with invisible for the time being instead.
A bizarre twist to the tale has been in relating some of these research challenges to long standing friends I've found that two of them also have Cox ancestry in the family from that part of Gloucestershire! I know it has long been said that Quakers makes the world a smaller place, but I wasn't expecting to end up potentially related to people I've known over half my life who also happen to have made their home in Aotearoa NZ!
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
migrating
Another trip to Pukepoto and another bootful of stuff has been relocated to my current abode. This time I collected one of the small bookcases and contents, and the assortment of boxes and bundles stashed in the bottom of my old wardrobe. The bookcase is now at the EcoCentre full of pre-loved books for sale, including a shelf's worth of those that had been living on it for the last few years! The remaining books have been squeezed on to the bookshelves in my room, their precariously balanced state in some cases being a good incentive to crack on with the process of replacing my photograph albums with much slimmer photobooks. Hopefully the next trip will collect my American cabinet and blanket box, but that requires the right combination of people, trailer, fine weather and time coinciding. But hey, it's taken 4.5yrs so far, what's a few more weeks?!
The feeling of satisfaction I'm getting from this process of downsizing and amalgamation is reassuring me that I'm on the right track. A few weeks ago I was overcome with a feeling of helplessness in the face of the refugee crisis and the intransigence of our politicians who just don't seem to get the idea of helping others simply because they are human too and in need. Sure, clearing out some drawers and figuring out a pile more stuff to re-home won't make any difference to those being washed up on the shores of Greece and Italy, but it gave me something to do that felt constructive, that was part of changing my own lifestyle. The motto 'live simply so others can simply live' kept going round in my head, although the only direct link between my clutter clearing and improving the lives of others I could come up with was the result of me donating stuff to the Salvation Army.
Working through all my possessions has been a very physical reminder of the fact that I am a migrant. I shifted myself, my life and my stuff from one side of the world to the opposite. I chose to do this. I have paid more than I want to contemplate to the Departments of Immigration, and Internal Affairs over the last 10yrs in order that I might remain in my new home country, but it was all above board, by the book, official. I have the stamps in my passports and pieces of paper to prove I can be here. As I now have the letter saying my citizenship application has been accepted and am now awaiting a date for the ceremony, I'll soon be entitled to have a Kiwi passport in addition to my British one.
How different is my situation to those of the dispossessed, displaced refugees and asylum seekers who are desperately trying to get into Europe, and into Lebanon, away from the horrors of war and destruction. And yet the mainstream media has been using the same word, migrant, to describe them as is befitting to describe me. How can anyone think that our situations are even remotely the same? It angers me to see their true plight being sanitized into language that can be used to manipulate people into thinking there is an element of choice in what these people have done, and even worse implying that many are doing it to 'take advantage' of the destination countries and scrounge their benefits. I've been on the dole in the UK before now, and believe you me it certainly isn't worth risking life and limb crossing the Mediterranean in an overcrowded boat, then walking hundreds of miles, crawling through razor wire fences, or getting shut in a Chunnel bound lorry where you may suffocate, or hanging on to the top of a train for.
I've not seen much news over the last couple of weeks whilst I was away, so have relied on snatches of info picked up online, and now I'm back I find that, as it was before I left, the bulk of our news is about the Rugby World Cup. I am grateful to have such a great bunch of friends around the world who have kept heart-wrenching stories like this circulating around social media, reminding us of the far bigger issues out there. References to this poem by Warsan Shire popped up in my feed again, and again, and again.
I truly hope enough Help is Coming....
The feeling of satisfaction I'm getting from this process of downsizing and amalgamation is reassuring me that I'm on the right track. A few weeks ago I was overcome with a feeling of helplessness in the face of the refugee crisis and the intransigence of our politicians who just don't seem to get the idea of helping others simply because they are human too and in need. Sure, clearing out some drawers and figuring out a pile more stuff to re-home won't make any difference to those being washed up on the shores of Greece and Italy, but it gave me something to do that felt constructive, that was part of changing my own lifestyle. The motto 'live simply so others can simply live' kept going round in my head, although the only direct link between my clutter clearing and improving the lives of others I could come up with was the result of me donating stuff to the Salvation Army.
Working through all my possessions has been a very physical reminder of the fact that I am a migrant. I shifted myself, my life and my stuff from one side of the world to the opposite. I chose to do this. I have paid more than I want to contemplate to the Departments of Immigration, and Internal Affairs over the last 10yrs in order that I might remain in my new home country, but it was all above board, by the book, official. I have the stamps in my passports and pieces of paper to prove I can be here. As I now have the letter saying my citizenship application has been accepted and am now awaiting a date for the ceremony, I'll soon be entitled to have a Kiwi passport in addition to my British one.
How different is my situation to those of the dispossessed, displaced refugees and asylum seekers who are desperately trying to get into Europe, and into Lebanon, away from the horrors of war and destruction. And yet the mainstream media has been using the same word, migrant, to describe them as is befitting to describe me. How can anyone think that our situations are even remotely the same? It angers me to see their true plight being sanitized into language that can be used to manipulate people into thinking there is an element of choice in what these people have done, and even worse implying that many are doing it to 'take advantage' of the destination countries and scrounge their benefits. I've been on the dole in the UK before now, and believe you me it certainly isn't worth risking life and limb crossing the Mediterranean in an overcrowded boat, then walking hundreds of miles, crawling through razor wire fences, or getting shut in a Chunnel bound lorry where you may suffocate, or hanging on to the top of a train for.
I've not seen much news over the last couple of weeks whilst I was away, so have relied on snatches of info picked up online, and now I'm back I find that, as it was before I left, the bulk of our news is about the Rugby World Cup. I am grateful to have such a great bunch of friends around the world who have kept heart-wrenching stories like this circulating around social media, reminding us of the far bigger issues out there. References to this poem by Warsan Shire popped up in my feed again, and again, and again.
I truly hope enough Help is Coming....
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
revisiting faith
This is the piece I mentioned that I found the other day. It was probably written late 2004 or earlyish 2005. After that point I had received the email signed off 'May you be bathed in the blood of the Lamb of God', and somehow I can't imagine having neglected to mention that! Being of the slightly squeamish persuasion it still seems like a dubious proposition and I have yet to come to terms with the concept, no matter how well it has been explained to me theologically. Maybe being a life long vegetarian has something to account for my reaction to it?! Anyway, here is what I wrote whenever it was....
"But what is faith? What do we mean by it?" was the question someone raised recently in the 'Hearts and Minds Prepared' study group I'm in at my local Meeting.
It has been rattling round my head ever since (well maybe resonating - there's not much room in there at present to rattle). It reminds me of a story I heard a good few years ago now, whether an urban myth or true I've now forgotten, but it has stayed with me. A guy is sitting his Higher English exam (Scottish examination taken at 16yrs) and got to the essay question "What is courage?" His answer was simply "This is courage." end of essay. He got an A grade. Apparently a bright student anyway he could've conceivably done well enough on the other questions, but you are left wondering...
In many ways for me you could substitute 'faith' for 'courage' - sure you could write a three page essay on it in an exam, many have written doctorates and literature about it. But in the end it boils down to simply having the courage to believe that there is something out there to have faith in, and trusting that whatever it is will be there to sustain, support and guide us.
"Greetings in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!" A year ago had I opened an email that started like that I'd've hit delete without reading any further, assuming it was yet another 'we have lots of money to get our of the country' bid to get you to participate in money laundering (does anyone actually fall for these?). But now I always read to at least the next line. Okay so there are still the chancers our there, but there are also genuine WGYF emails sending Minutes, references and applications from the more christocentric and evangelical branches of Quakers. At first I found the language awkward, it isn't that which 'speaks to my condition' and culturally (in Britain) tends to be associated with the kind of religious fundamentalists who come knocking on your door claiming you'll go to hell if you don't see it their way (as my idea of heaven is a place without religious fundamentalism of any strain we'll all be happy!). Or it is associated with centuries of hypocrisy and abuse of power by the mainstream Protestant and Catholic churches. In fact I'd add 'spiritual abuse' to that too - so many Quakers by convincement in Europe (and the Meetings elsewhere around the world that have stemmed from Friends emigrating over the last 100 years or so rather than evangelical missionary work) are 'refugees' from mainstream Christian churches. Some lost, some convinced that there must be something less hypocritical, but others with gaping raw wounds on a spiritual level, some also the victims of literal abuse at the hands of the churches - both physical and sexual. Our newspapers are seldom without the latest scandal of this nature as adults and children manage to find a voice to speak out about the atrocities they suffered at boarding schools and care homes. Films such as Rabbit-Proof Fence and Magdelene Sisters haven't exactly covered the church in glory either. Oh and just don't get me started on the patrification of religion and the Spanish Inquisition! On top of that our mainstream Christian Churches have a long history of dissent, of claiming each other to be the devil's work yet all purporting to worship the same God, the same Christ, to love thy neighbour and thine enemies.
In this respect not much has changed since the days of George Fox. The Christian church in Britain is facing a crisis, attendance is falling, church buildings are expensive to maintain and with smaller and smaller congregations to support them more and more are being sold off and turned into flats, pubs, warehouses and art centres etc. Some churches merge and become more ecumenical, but others maintain their line that 'they are right and the others are wrong' and risk dying out because of their intransigence and the obvious dichotomy between the biblical words quoted from the pulpit and their actions. People are questioning the Churches, questioning the version of Christianity that is being offered. Yet with the Dead Sea Scrolls, the emergence in popularity of the Apocrypha based books like Holy Blood, Holy Grail and the recent Da Vinci Code kind of retelling, many are starting to realize that christianity and Christianity are two very different things, and that the christian message is one that can speak to them and be meaningful in modern society.
For me a major revelation over the last year is getting my head around the idea that on the whole many evangelical Friends fall into my definition of christianity, not Christianity. Sure there are a few things that I have great difficulty with regarding the deification of Christ and some statements which look to me like creeds. [note from 2015: I can't help but wonder - what would George Fox say?!] I've started to reclaim the language I'd written off as meaningless to me. Okay so I'm still not going to open an email with 'Greetings in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ....' as that simply isn't how I see Jesus, but words like blessings and God are creeping in in a way I'd never have considered before, and they feel right. I've come to realize that it's Christianity [note from 2015: I've since heard it described as Churchianity] I've rejected, not christianity, and that whilst the concept of god is far more important to me than Jesus (who I see as a prophet, and a damned good one at that) I'm now more inclined to listen for the christian message when I hear words that used to set off alarm bells for me.
For those living thousands of miles away from the centuries of abuse done in the name of Christianity I can understand why Britain must seem like a Godforsaken country. Or rather a a God-rejecting one, as I doubt if we're forsaken. But we are also an increasingly multi-ethnic society, people are no longer needing to travel halfway around the world to visit synagogues, mosques and Buddhist temples. The wisdom of other religions is around us and just down the road. We are finding that they too have their fundamentalists and skeletons in the closet along with the Christian churches. But their underlying messages are remarkably familiar. There are far more options when seeking a faith that fits than there used to be, and hopefully this means fewer 'lost souls' unable to find what they are looking for.
There was a bit more of the original piece but it was getting waffley and tangential, even by my standards! In many ways it is strange now reading it - I've become more of a Kiwi than I had thought. I certainly don't feel as though I can speak for how Britain is now. I'd like to think Pope Francis is having a positive impact on the general perception of the Catholic Church and Christianity in general. Although from the number of memes on Facebook pointing out the discrepancy between the status quo view of a (quote) Christian country Government/mass media and the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth on certain issues, there are plenty still wearing blinkers that can't see their own hypocrisy.
Like a good number of my peers I've started to appreciate the huge difference between faith and religion. You don't have to subscribe to a particular religion to have faith. As Thomas Owen stated in his message given at the World Conference of Friends in Kenya 2012 'I don't believe that God invented religion to reach humankind. I believe that humankind invented religion to reach God.' It is possible to have a faith in God (or whatever...), something to believe in, without the formal trappings of religion, but religion provides a framework to support us in our reaching out and trying to make sense of it all.
I suspect many have religion but lack any real faith - they go through the comforting familiar motions each Sunday but apply very little of what they hear to the rest of the week. Not long ago I finished David Copperfield, and I saw Mr Micawber's enduring faith that 'something would turn up' despite all evidence to the contrary and multiple setbacks, to be a depth of faith few of us have. He got his reward in the promised land, albeit of Australia rather than any afterlife! I'm pretty sure Dickens was quite intentional in this portrayal. I know at times my faith in 'something turning up' wavers at times, no matter how much I know it to be true. Those are the times when having the religious framework of Quakerism really helps keep me focused.
"But what is faith? What do we mean by it?" was the question someone raised recently in the 'Hearts and Minds Prepared' study group I'm in at my local Meeting.
It has been rattling round my head ever since (well maybe resonating - there's not much room in there at present to rattle). It reminds me of a story I heard a good few years ago now, whether an urban myth or true I've now forgotten, but it has stayed with me. A guy is sitting his Higher English exam (Scottish examination taken at 16yrs) and got to the essay question "What is courage?" His answer was simply "This is courage." end of essay. He got an A grade. Apparently a bright student anyway he could've conceivably done well enough on the other questions, but you are left wondering...
In many ways for me you could substitute 'faith' for 'courage' - sure you could write a three page essay on it in an exam, many have written doctorates and literature about it. But in the end it boils down to simply having the courage to believe that there is something out there to have faith in, and trusting that whatever it is will be there to sustain, support and guide us.
"Greetings in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!" A year ago had I opened an email that started like that I'd've hit delete without reading any further, assuming it was yet another 'we have lots of money to get our of the country' bid to get you to participate in money laundering (does anyone actually fall for these?). But now I always read to at least the next line. Okay so there are still the chancers our there, but there are also genuine WGYF emails sending Minutes, references and applications from the more christocentric and evangelical branches of Quakers. At first I found the language awkward, it isn't that which 'speaks to my condition' and culturally (in Britain) tends to be associated with the kind of religious fundamentalists who come knocking on your door claiming you'll go to hell if you don't see it their way (as my idea of heaven is a place without religious fundamentalism of any strain we'll all be happy!). Or it is associated with centuries of hypocrisy and abuse of power by the mainstream Protestant and Catholic churches. In fact I'd add 'spiritual abuse' to that too - so many Quakers by convincement in Europe (and the Meetings elsewhere around the world that have stemmed from Friends emigrating over the last 100 years or so rather than evangelical missionary work) are 'refugees' from mainstream Christian churches. Some lost, some convinced that there must be something less hypocritical, but others with gaping raw wounds on a spiritual level, some also the victims of literal abuse at the hands of the churches - both physical and sexual. Our newspapers are seldom without the latest scandal of this nature as adults and children manage to find a voice to speak out about the atrocities they suffered at boarding schools and care homes. Films such as Rabbit-Proof Fence and Magdelene Sisters haven't exactly covered the church in glory either. Oh and just don't get me started on the patrification of religion and the Spanish Inquisition! On top of that our mainstream Christian Churches have a long history of dissent, of claiming each other to be the devil's work yet all purporting to worship the same God, the same Christ, to love thy neighbour and thine enemies.
In this respect not much has changed since the days of George Fox. The Christian church in Britain is facing a crisis, attendance is falling, church buildings are expensive to maintain and with smaller and smaller congregations to support them more and more are being sold off and turned into flats, pubs, warehouses and art centres etc. Some churches merge and become more ecumenical, but others maintain their line that 'they are right and the others are wrong' and risk dying out because of their intransigence and the obvious dichotomy between the biblical words quoted from the pulpit and their actions. People are questioning the Churches, questioning the version of Christianity that is being offered. Yet with the Dead Sea Scrolls, the emergence in popularity of the Apocrypha based books like Holy Blood, Holy Grail and the recent Da Vinci Code kind of retelling, many are starting to realize that christianity and Christianity are two very different things, and that the christian message is one that can speak to them and be meaningful in modern society.
For me a major revelation over the last year is getting my head around the idea that on the whole many evangelical Friends fall into my definition of christianity, not Christianity. Sure there are a few things that I have great difficulty with regarding the deification of Christ and some statements which look to me like creeds. [note from 2015: I can't help but wonder - what would George Fox say?!] I've started to reclaim the language I'd written off as meaningless to me. Okay so I'm still not going to open an email with 'Greetings in the name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ....' as that simply isn't how I see Jesus, but words like blessings and God are creeping in in a way I'd never have considered before, and they feel right. I've come to realize that it's Christianity [note from 2015: I've since heard it described as Churchianity] I've rejected, not christianity, and that whilst the concept of god is far more important to me than Jesus (who I see as a prophet, and a damned good one at that) I'm now more inclined to listen for the christian message when I hear words that used to set off alarm bells for me.
For those living thousands of miles away from the centuries of abuse done in the name of Christianity I can understand why Britain must seem like a Godforsaken country. Or rather a a God-rejecting one, as I doubt if we're forsaken. But we are also an increasingly multi-ethnic society, people are no longer needing to travel halfway around the world to visit synagogues, mosques and Buddhist temples. The wisdom of other religions is around us and just down the road. We are finding that they too have their fundamentalists and skeletons in the closet along with the Christian churches. But their underlying messages are remarkably familiar. There are far more options when seeking a faith that fits than there used to be, and hopefully this means fewer 'lost souls' unable to find what they are looking for.
There was a bit more of the original piece but it was getting waffley and tangential, even by my standards! In many ways it is strange now reading it - I've become more of a Kiwi than I had thought. I certainly don't feel as though I can speak for how Britain is now. I'd like to think Pope Francis is having a positive impact on the general perception of the Catholic Church and Christianity in general. Although from the number of memes on Facebook pointing out the discrepancy between the status quo view of a (quote) Christian country Government/mass media and the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth on certain issues, there are plenty still wearing blinkers that can't see their own hypocrisy.
Like a good number of my peers I've started to appreciate the huge difference between faith and religion. You don't have to subscribe to a particular religion to have faith. As Thomas Owen stated in his message given at the World Conference of Friends in Kenya 2012 'I don't believe that God invented religion to reach humankind. I believe that humankind invented religion to reach God.' It is possible to have a faith in God (or whatever...), something to believe in, without the formal trappings of religion, but religion provides a framework to support us in our reaching out and trying to make sense of it all.
I suspect many have religion but lack any real faith - they go through the comforting familiar motions each Sunday but apply very little of what they hear to the rest of the week. Not long ago I finished David Copperfield, and I saw Mr Micawber's enduring faith that 'something would turn up' despite all evidence to the contrary and multiple setbacks, to be a depth of faith few of us have. He got his reward in the promised land, albeit of Australia rather than any afterlife! I'm pretty sure Dickens was quite intentional in this portrayal. I know at times my faith in 'something turning up' wavers at times, no matter how much I know it to be true. Those are the times when having the religious framework of Quakerism really helps keep me focused.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
should vs must
Damn, blast and botheration... I had a post all written (that had been half written for some weeks!) and just needing to be proof read and now it seems to have disappeared. Well maybe it just wasn't meant to be.
Anyway, the bit I had just decided warranted a post of its own was about these links from Ella Luna, but rather than start writing something and risk losing that too (as it seems to be one of those days) I'll just share them now otherwise who knows how many more weeks/months will slip by!
So here is the article, and the talk she gave at Webstock on the same thing - following your calling.
I know she's right, I've been there done that. She's right, it is scary, not always easy, but definitely worth it.
Maybe more on this another time when the gremlins aren't making stuff disappear!
Anyway, the bit I had just decided warranted a post of its own was about these links from Ella Luna, but rather than start writing something and risk losing that too (as it seems to be one of those days) I'll just share them now otherwise who knows how many more weeks/months will slip by!
So here is the article, and the talk she gave at Webstock on the same thing - following your calling.
I know she's right, I've been there done that. She's right, it is scary, not always easy, but definitely worth it.
Maybe more on this another time when the gremlins aren't making stuff disappear!
Saturday, April 11, 2015
clearing out (again...)
I'm having another of life's clear-outs. Slowly but surely I'm plodding my way through the remaining boxes in the shed at Pukepoto, bringing them in to town, going through them and absorbing what remains into my current space in the world. I'm determined not to add any boxes to the garage here, not that there's really any space to do so anyway as it is full of J&O's stuff!
Also over most of the last year I've been having a mental/emotional clear-out of stuff that is unhelpful through counselling. So it was somewhat bemusing to come across something I wrote about fifteen years ago about much the same thing, and how useful it had been. So in order to be able to clear another bit of physical clutter out of my life, here is what I wrote so the pages can hit the recycling pile...
[For those of you out there who were regular readers of YQ at the time and are thinking 'I don't remember reading this before' don't worry, it isn't old age taking it's toll. You most likely haven't. Just because I said I'd write something, which I finally did, doesn't mean I'd also actually get around to sending it in, which I suspect never quite happened!!]
Some time ago (er... May '87 to be honest - Kendal YFCC!) I promised then YQ Editor Jonathan Kemp that I'd write 'something' for YQ, 'after my exams'. Thankfully I don't remember specifying which exams, but having sat the last ones in '92 I feel as though I'm still somewhat overdue in writing!
So what has prompted me after all these years to finally get around to it?
Guilt. Plain and simple.
Over the last six months I've ended up having to do a lot of looking back over my life. Trying to figure out why I am where I am today, who I am, and what on earth am I doing with my life. You know, all the nice easy ones.
Part of the process has been counselling after it finally sank in that my head can only take so much without a good clear out. The amount of stuff that had just been pushed to the back of my mind 'for now' had built up to the point where if anything even vaguely difficult or challenging occurred I couldn't cope. Not a good situation to be in when you work with people with challenging behaviour.
So off I went, somewhat reluctantly at first, to counselling. Deciding to go was a big step in itself. If I had a pound for every time in my life someone had said to me "You're coping so well", "You always seem to manage, how do you do it?" etc etc I could retire tomorrow. When the world thinks you are coping it is very difficult to turn around and say well actually I'm not, can you help? Especially if they've just said that they couldn't do it themselves!
I'm getting there, but it's not always easy to bring out painful memories and look at them again. At least there's some more space in my head again though and I don't throw a wobbly every time someone else does!
Another part of the process has been physically having a clear out. As anyone who's ever visited me knows I've got rather a lot of 'stuff'. Due mainly to being put in a 'take it or it goes' situation when my parents moved house some years ago. So whilst most of you have children's books, teddies, jigsaws and toys safely stowed away in attics and spare bedrooms elsewhere, mind were under my bed, on top of my wardrobe, and fighting for shelf space along with my university notes. Like the ever promised article, I never quite got around to sorting through it all.
Then suddenly, a couple of years ago, I had to shift all my stuff several times in as many weeks, up and down far too many stairs. My life had changed, my future was unclear, but one thing was certain, some of the stuff had to go. Slowly but surely over the next four months I started to whittle it down. Another house move, still too much stuff - keep going! A year on and like all good resolutions I'd slowed down to a virtual stop, but then came the promise of a new home - somewhere stable, permanent, but small.
Bin bags were filled, boxes cleared, endless carrier bags dumped exhaustedly at the Shelter Shop. The big move came - would it all fit in? Well sort of, ish. So more had to go but but was getting harder. All the easy to part with stuff had gone. Then one day hiding from the rain in a bookshop I found my saviour 'Clear your clutter with Feng Shui' by Karen Kingston. You wouldn't believe what I've managed to do since reading it.
Clearing out clutter is in itself very theraputic - as long as you manage to throw things away and not put them back 'for now...'. In so many ways we are defined by our possessions and the things we surround ourselves with. I had an incredible amount of stuff which I'd felt I 'ought' to keep rather than wanted to. The old 'it might come in handy one day' kind of thing mixed up with 'but so-and-so gave me that'. Are my memories of people and my past so fragile that I need to keep everything? It's quite a question to ask yourself.
I compromised and started a scrapbook, it's got old tickets from concerts and the cinema, some train tickets, old NUS cards, railcards and so on so I can cringe at old photos of me, mementos from events and people. It's been good fun doing it. It satisfies a childlike instinct to play with scissors, glue and sellotape too! If I can't remember something when I find it in my sorting out it goes.
Yet with my dread of amnesia quashed with the scrapbook and so much more parted with, I still haven't finished. But there are now just a few hats on top of the wardrobe instead of a precarious pile to the ceiling, there's space in the cupboards and no longer a pile of boxes lurking in every corner of the flat.
So where has all this got me? My head is being cleared out, the flat is being tidied up, but there's still a pile of stuff that remains to be dealt with, the 'pending' tray in life. That's where this article came in. No matter how hard I 'd tried to forget that I'd ever said I'd write anything the memory kept coming back to haunt me. There are a few other things in the tray too, and I'm trying to get it emptied by the end of the year, clear it out and not let it get so full again.
Maybe someone will read this and realize that they can sort things out too. I hope so. It always seemed like such an enormous task, too big to tackle, But if you break it down into little bits, like writing an article for YQ, it can stop being so daunting, and you might even find you enjoy it!
Post script, fifteen years later...
I laugh now at the thought of that flat being small. Sure it was for the amount of gubbins we crammed in to it, but having lived with far less stuff for many years now, and spent rather a lot of time reading articles about Tiny Houses, I have a somewhat different perspective these days.
I was in that flat for four and half years before life got turned on its head yet again. Not that I'm complaining as it was the beginning of the journey that led me to a life in Aotearoa NZ, but I think had you told me what was coming back then I'd've baulked at the thought of it. Well that is once I'd picked myself up off the floor and gotten over a stitch from laughing for long enough to ask 'Are you serious?'
So no, life hasn't exactly been plain sailing since then, and it is amazing how much extra internal clutter one can acquire in fifteen years, even if you've got better at keeping the physical stuff under control. But over all I still believe what I wrote then, I just wish I'd reminded myself sooner...
Also over most of the last year I've been having a mental/emotional clear-out of stuff that is unhelpful through counselling. So it was somewhat bemusing to come across something I wrote about fifteen years ago about much the same thing, and how useful it had been. So in order to be able to clear another bit of physical clutter out of my life, here is what I wrote so the pages can hit the recycling pile...
[For those of you out there who were regular readers of YQ at the time and are thinking 'I don't remember reading this before' don't worry, it isn't old age taking it's toll. You most likely haven't. Just because I said I'd write something, which I finally did, doesn't mean I'd also actually get around to sending it in, which I suspect never quite happened!!]
Some time ago (er... May '87 to be honest - Kendal YFCC!) I promised then YQ Editor Jonathan Kemp that I'd write 'something' for YQ, 'after my exams'. Thankfully I don't remember specifying which exams, but having sat the last ones in '92 I feel as though I'm still somewhat overdue in writing!
So what has prompted me after all these years to finally get around to it?
Guilt. Plain and simple.
Over the last six months I've ended up having to do a lot of looking back over my life. Trying to figure out why I am where I am today, who I am, and what on earth am I doing with my life. You know, all the nice easy ones.
Part of the process has been counselling after it finally sank in that my head can only take so much without a good clear out. The amount of stuff that had just been pushed to the back of my mind 'for now' had built up to the point where if anything even vaguely difficult or challenging occurred I couldn't cope. Not a good situation to be in when you work with people with challenging behaviour.
So off I went, somewhat reluctantly at first, to counselling. Deciding to go was a big step in itself. If I had a pound for every time in my life someone had said to me "You're coping so well", "You always seem to manage, how do you do it?" etc etc I could retire tomorrow. When the world thinks you are coping it is very difficult to turn around and say well actually I'm not, can you help? Especially if they've just said that they couldn't do it themselves!
I'm getting there, but it's not always easy to bring out painful memories and look at them again. At least there's some more space in my head again though and I don't throw a wobbly every time someone else does!
Another part of the process has been physically having a clear out. As anyone who's ever visited me knows I've got rather a lot of 'stuff'. Due mainly to being put in a 'take it or it goes' situation when my parents moved house some years ago. So whilst most of you have children's books, teddies, jigsaws and toys safely stowed away in attics and spare bedrooms elsewhere, mind were under my bed, on top of my wardrobe, and fighting for shelf space along with my university notes. Like the ever promised article, I never quite got around to sorting through it all.
Then suddenly, a couple of years ago, I had to shift all my stuff several times in as many weeks, up and down far too many stairs. My life had changed, my future was unclear, but one thing was certain, some of the stuff had to go. Slowly but surely over the next four months I started to whittle it down. Another house move, still too much stuff - keep going! A year on and like all good resolutions I'd slowed down to a virtual stop, but then came the promise of a new home - somewhere stable, permanent, but small.
Bin bags were filled, boxes cleared, endless carrier bags dumped exhaustedly at the Shelter Shop. The big move came - would it all fit in? Well sort of, ish. So more had to go but but was getting harder. All the easy to part with stuff had gone. Then one day hiding from the rain in a bookshop I found my saviour 'Clear your clutter with Feng Shui' by Karen Kingston. You wouldn't believe what I've managed to do since reading it.
Clearing out clutter is in itself very theraputic - as long as you manage to throw things away and not put them back 'for now...'. In so many ways we are defined by our possessions and the things we surround ourselves with. I had an incredible amount of stuff which I'd felt I 'ought' to keep rather than wanted to. The old 'it might come in handy one day' kind of thing mixed up with 'but so-and-so gave me that'. Are my memories of people and my past so fragile that I need to keep everything? It's quite a question to ask yourself.
I compromised and started a scrapbook, it's got old tickets from concerts and the cinema, some train tickets, old NUS cards, railcards and so on so I can cringe at old photos of me, mementos from events and people. It's been good fun doing it. It satisfies a childlike instinct to play with scissors, glue and sellotape too! If I can't remember something when I find it in my sorting out it goes.
Yet with my dread of amnesia quashed with the scrapbook and so much more parted with, I still haven't finished. But there are now just a few hats on top of the wardrobe instead of a precarious pile to the ceiling, there's space in the cupboards and no longer a pile of boxes lurking in every corner of the flat.
So where has all this got me? My head is being cleared out, the flat is being tidied up, but there's still a pile of stuff that remains to be dealt with, the 'pending' tray in life. That's where this article came in. No matter how hard I 'd tried to forget that I'd ever said I'd write anything the memory kept coming back to haunt me. There are a few other things in the tray too, and I'm trying to get it emptied by the end of the year, clear it out and not let it get so full again.
Maybe someone will read this and realize that they can sort things out too. I hope so. It always seemed like such an enormous task, too big to tackle, But if you break it down into little bits, like writing an article for YQ, it can stop being so daunting, and you might even find you enjoy it!
Post script, fifteen years later...
I laugh now at the thought of that flat being small. Sure it was for the amount of gubbins we crammed in to it, but having lived with far less stuff for many years now, and spent rather a lot of time reading articles about Tiny Houses, I have a somewhat different perspective these days.
I was in that flat for four and half years before life got turned on its head yet again. Not that I'm complaining as it was the beginning of the journey that led me to a life in Aotearoa NZ, but I think had you told me what was coming back then I'd've baulked at the thought of it. Well that is once I'd picked myself up off the floor and gotten over a stitch from laughing for long enough to ask 'Are you serious?'
So no, life hasn't exactly been plain sailing since then, and it is amazing how much extra internal clutter one can acquire in fifteen years, even if you've got better at keeping the physical stuff under control. But over all I still believe what I wrote then, I just wish I'd reminded myself sooner...
Tuesday, April 07, 2015
'If language were liquid...
...it would be rushing in, instead here we are in a silence more eloquent than any words can ever be'
Suzanne Vega, 'Language'
Proof (as if any were needed) that it isn't only Quakers who find silence can speak louder than words! When trying to describe silent/waiting worship I often ask if the enquirer has ever been part of a one or two minutes silence in remembrance, especially as part of a large gathering such as at a sports stadium or an ANZAC Day dawn service etc. Then try to imagine that feeling lasting a whole hour... Okay, so it isn't always that intense/amazing/gathered but it can be. And yes, it can be more eloquent than words can ever be.
A few things have caught my eye via Facebook and television recently that made me think about the phrase 'divided by a common language', and if native speakers of English can get confused by each other heaven help those learning it as a second or other subsequent language. In some ways we have one of the most versatile languages drawing as it does on many historical roots. But we also have one of the most confusing to interpret due to the number of idioms that certainly shouldn't be taken literally!
One of the advantages of moving around in life for me is that I've picked up the local lingo in several English counties in addition to 'Embra' Scots and understanding both the West Coast and Deeside versions (plus a smidgen of Doric and Gaelic, just don't ask me to spell any of it though!), and of course the more recent addition of Kiwinglish. There have been a couple of adverts in the States with Kiwi basketball player Steven Adams in them (this and this) which as he'd say are pretty choice, but just prove the point that if you want to be understood locally you have to go with the flow and adapt, as subtitles are hard to reproduce for everyday conversation.
But whilst understanding many tongues is a blessing, it can be a burden if you try to use them all at once as you end up faced with a lot of blank looks and requests to translate. At least Marion and I have each other here who have both lived in Yorkshire, Scotland, Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Aotearoa NZ, plus she's lived in Cumbria and that's where my Mum is from (albeit the bit that used be Lancashire rather than Cumberland) and since my Māori got up to speed enough to understand those words too we know we don't have to worry about which ones we use when talking to each other. Bi- and multi-linguists will understand, you have the perfect word in your head, but it is in the wrong language for the conversation and sometimes your thinking is like this... especially when you're too tired to untangle it!
I really appreciate having friends on Facebook who regularly use the dialect/language of their locality that have made up part of my past. Otherwise it isn't often I hear anyone described as a daft wazzock these days, or talking twaddle. There's plenty twaddle around, it just doesn't get called that here, nor codswallop either. Seeing such words, or being with people from places in my past generally tends to have the effect of veering my current lexicon of words temporarily back in that direction again, so in many ways my everyday language is liquid, with ebbs and flows and underlying currents. I still haven't really got the hang of eloquent though, but maybe I shouldn't worry about it and leave that to the silence.
Suzanne Vega, 'Language'
Proof (as if any were needed) that it isn't only Quakers who find silence can speak louder than words! When trying to describe silent/waiting worship I often ask if the enquirer has ever been part of a one or two minutes silence in remembrance, especially as part of a large gathering such as at a sports stadium or an ANZAC Day dawn service etc. Then try to imagine that feeling lasting a whole hour... Okay, so it isn't always that intense/amazing/gathered but it can be. And yes, it can be more eloquent than words can ever be.
A few things have caught my eye via Facebook and television recently that made me think about the phrase 'divided by a common language', and if native speakers of English can get confused by each other heaven help those learning it as a second or other subsequent language. In some ways we have one of the most versatile languages drawing as it does on many historical roots. But we also have one of the most confusing to interpret due to the number of idioms that certainly shouldn't be taken literally!
One of the advantages of moving around in life for me is that I've picked up the local lingo in several English counties in addition to 'Embra' Scots and understanding both the West Coast and Deeside versions (plus a smidgen of Doric and Gaelic, just don't ask me to spell any of it though!), and of course the more recent addition of Kiwinglish. There have been a couple of adverts in the States with Kiwi basketball player Steven Adams in them (this and this) which as he'd say are pretty choice, but just prove the point that if you want to be understood locally you have to go with the flow and adapt, as subtitles are hard to reproduce for everyday conversation.
But whilst understanding many tongues is a blessing, it can be a burden if you try to use them all at once as you end up faced with a lot of blank looks and requests to translate. At least Marion and I have each other here who have both lived in Yorkshire, Scotland, Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Aotearoa NZ, plus she's lived in Cumbria and that's where my Mum is from (albeit the bit that used be Lancashire rather than Cumberland) and since my Māori got up to speed enough to understand those words too we know we don't have to worry about which ones we use when talking to each other. Bi- and multi-linguists will understand, you have the perfect word in your head, but it is in the wrong language for the conversation and sometimes your thinking is like this... especially when you're too tired to untangle it!
I really appreciate having friends on Facebook who regularly use the dialect/language of their locality that have made up part of my past. Otherwise it isn't often I hear anyone described as a daft wazzock these days, or talking twaddle. There's plenty twaddle around, it just doesn't get called that here, nor codswallop either. Seeing such words, or being with people from places in my past generally tends to have the effect of veering my current lexicon of words temporarily back in that direction again, so in many ways my everyday language is liquid, with ebbs and flows and underlying currents. I still haven't really got the hang of eloquent though, but maybe I shouldn't worry about it and leave that to the silence.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
aliens in my head or just another day?
Today Jane and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Finally, after about a year, the Kaitaia TimeBank banner to be used outside the EcoCentre, at working bees, market stalls etc., has been finished. It didn't take that long to make relatively speaking, but there was about a 9 month gap between cutting out all the lettering and starting on the main panels.
The main reason things stalled was because my brain just wasn't up to figuring out the logistics of the banner which goes on one of those freestanding pole things. Should the pole go up one side or the middle? Should the lettering be from top to bottom (so you tilt your head to read it) or go across-ways? How do I make it so it will cope with the high winds of the Far North and not get ripped to shreds in a few weeks? If I put a pole pocket down the middle which seams can I sew before I turn the thing from inside out to the right way out and which have to wait until after?
Gradually I've plodded through the list. Jane, bless her, did the applique work which at least saved me that headache. Today saw the final piecing together of the two panels to make a single banner. It is a sign of how much I have improved over the last few months that I even tried. How often I used my quick-unpick is a sign of how much further I still have to go... I nearly had the whole thing sewn together complete with pole pockets etc before the penny dropped that the three lines I'd just sewn meant I now couldn't turn it the right way out - d'oh. I shouldn't have been surprised though. Earlier in the day, whilst working on another rather time-delayed project, I'd ironed several metres of binding in half the wrong way out before I realised what I was doing.
Common sense is something I've usually had a reasonable supply of. In various circles I gained a bit of a reputation for pointing out 'the bleeding obvious' to those who had somehow completely overlooked it. Until this year I could never fathom how people could miss such things. I really do feel handicapped without my usual capacity to see what's staring me in the face. Similarly towards the end of my time teaching I was finding my usually long patience had shrunk and I was snapping at kids in a way that shocked me when it happened. It felt like someone else controlling my tongue. I'd be horrified at myself at times and apologized straight away to whichever poor child I'd just bitten the head off. It was an eye opener to me to realise that this is what life is usually like for some people; that frustrated verbal response before thinking. Thankfully I didn't have to deal with an instinctive physical response on top, the flash of uncontrolled emotional response was bad enough.
For whatever reason I haven't had that flashpan response to children happen again since I stopped teaching week in week out at the end of 2012 and I am extremely grateful for that. I know one of my colleagues got the sharp edge of my tongue a few times when relieving last year. Our methods of teaching were completely at odds with each other and I wasn't in a space to be able to just let stuff go that in a better state I would've had the wisdom to just leave be.
The more my physical health improves the more obvious the anomalous state of my brain and emotions becomes, and reflecting back, the more I realise how long ago the changes started to become apparent. A lot of it is quite simply hormonal and due to going through peri-menopause of which several doctors, nurses and specialists have all agreed I've been having a lousy time of. The fact that most of the more obvious symptoms seem to fluctuate in sync with how tired, run down, and otherwise not well I am does give me some hope that 'this too shall pass' and normal service shall be resumed at some point. Hopefully some point sooner rather than later.
Spending a lot of time with those a generation or more older than me has meant I have been around regular discussions about those in the community slipping into states of advanced Altzheimer's, or senile dementia. I do wonder at times about the similarities between the way my brain feels mussed up and those conditions, although those I know with them aren't really in a state to compare notes. But in a week when 'today, tomorrow and yesterday' have got completely mixed up (what do you mean that if I re-read an email on Tuesday that I got on Monday that refers to 'tomorrow' that means today and not Wednesday??? In my defense I was expecting it to refer to Wednesday due to an earlier conversation); where I've given someone an answer only to ask them the same question back 10 minutes later; where I can't even get to the compost heap and back without forgetting what I was doing before I set off bucket in hand, I do have to wonder just how well I'd do in those assessment tests right now! But whilst I might be struggling to know what day of the week it is or how the heck it came to be Tuesday again already (but not today though!) I did figure out that Granny would've been 110 yesterday without even having to think about it. Admittedly remembering it was Tuesday before it got to 1.30pm would've been far more useful given Granny has long since gone beyond birthdays, whereas the pay office needed my timesheet posted yesterday and I was supposed to be somewhere else at 12...
I have to take heart though from the fact that I have more than one thing going on to keep track of, and that I do have a life again that doesn't simply consist of endless medical appointments and not much else. I don't mind unpicking seams half as much now as I used to as at least it means I had a go at sewing them in the first place, and I spotted the mistake before it was too late to change something. I still haven't quite plucked up the courage to attempt to unpick a counted cross-stitch I started some months ago and somehow managed to get the centre line in the wrong place, despite carefully (I thought...) counting the holes twice to make sure! Some mistakes are easier to fix than others.
Given what feels like personality transplants and my brain short-circuiting at times over the last few years I can understand why there have been people convinced they've been abducted by aliens in their sleep etc. It wouldn't need much mental instability, paranoia, certain drugs, or living amidst a culture of fear, scaremongering and some really dubious red tops 'journalism' on top of my own kind of experiences to really freak folk out. It's freaky enough at times as it is when I have a perfectly rational medical explanation for it all! Mind you when I had the third pregnancy test done on me this year irrespective of me pointing out that whilst I dropped biology at school as soon as possible, I did know enough to know without a doubt that I couldn't possibly be, there was that back of the mind thought 'But what about the Midwich Cuckoos?' I'm still debating whether aliens would be preferable to angels proclaiming or not... Thankfully the tests all agreed with me that I wasn't, so that all remains hypothetical!
So life trundles on. The 'guilt pile' is slowly being tackled and whilst new things inevitably get added to it at least I've not been looking at them all year. Another sewing project is close to completion, and only 6mths late this time so there is actually a chance of folk getting handmade Christmas presents after all. I'm not going to say when they'll get them mind, that feels far too much like tempting fate!
The main reason things stalled was because my brain just wasn't up to figuring out the logistics of the banner which goes on one of those freestanding pole things. Should the pole go up one side or the middle? Should the lettering be from top to bottom (so you tilt your head to read it) or go across-ways? How do I make it so it will cope with the high winds of the Far North and not get ripped to shreds in a few weeks? If I put a pole pocket down the middle which seams can I sew before I turn the thing from inside out to the right way out and which have to wait until after?
Gradually I've plodded through the list. Jane, bless her, did the applique work which at least saved me that headache. Today saw the final piecing together of the two panels to make a single banner. It is a sign of how much I have improved over the last few months that I even tried. How often I used my quick-unpick is a sign of how much further I still have to go... I nearly had the whole thing sewn together complete with pole pockets etc before the penny dropped that the three lines I'd just sewn meant I now couldn't turn it the right way out - d'oh. I shouldn't have been surprised though. Earlier in the day, whilst working on another rather time-delayed project, I'd ironed several metres of binding in half the wrong way out before I realised what I was doing.
Common sense is something I've usually had a reasonable supply of. In various circles I gained a bit of a reputation for pointing out 'the bleeding obvious' to those who had somehow completely overlooked it. Until this year I could never fathom how people could miss such things. I really do feel handicapped without my usual capacity to see what's staring me in the face. Similarly towards the end of my time teaching I was finding my usually long patience had shrunk and I was snapping at kids in a way that shocked me when it happened. It felt like someone else controlling my tongue. I'd be horrified at myself at times and apologized straight away to whichever poor child I'd just bitten the head off. It was an eye opener to me to realise that this is what life is usually like for some people; that frustrated verbal response before thinking. Thankfully I didn't have to deal with an instinctive physical response on top, the flash of uncontrolled emotional response was bad enough.
For whatever reason I haven't had that flashpan response to children happen again since I stopped teaching week in week out at the end of 2012 and I am extremely grateful for that. I know one of my colleagues got the sharp edge of my tongue a few times when relieving last year. Our methods of teaching were completely at odds with each other and I wasn't in a space to be able to just let stuff go that in a better state I would've had the wisdom to just leave be.
The more my physical health improves the more obvious the anomalous state of my brain and emotions becomes, and reflecting back, the more I realise how long ago the changes started to become apparent. A lot of it is quite simply hormonal and due to going through peri-menopause of which several doctors, nurses and specialists have all agreed I've been having a lousy time of. The fact that most of the more obvious symptoms seem to fluctuate in sync with how tired, run down, and otherwise not well I am does give me some hope that 'this too shall pass' and normal service shall be resumed at some point. Hopefully some point sooner rather than later.
Spending a lot of time with those a generation or more older than me has meant I have been around regular discussions about those in the community slipping into states of advanced Altzheimer's, or senile dementia. I do wonder at times about the similarities between the way my brain feels mussed up and those conditions, although those I know with them aren't really in a state to compare notes. But in a week when 'today, tomorrow and yesterday' have got completely mixed up (what do you mean that if I re-read an email on Tuesday that I got on Monday that refers to 'tomorrow' that means today and not Wednesday??? In my defense I was expecting it to refer to Wednesday due to an earlier conversation); where I've given someone an answer only to ask them the same question back 10 minutes later; where I can't even get to the compost heap and back without forgetting what I was doing before I set off bucket in hand, I do have to wonder just how well I'd do in those assessment tests right now! But whilst I might be struggling to know what day of the week it is or how the heck it came to be Tuesday again already (but not today though!) I did figure out that Granny would've been 110 yesterday without even having to think about it. Admittedly remembering it was Tuesday before it got to 1.30pm would've been far more useful given Granny has long since gone beyond birthdays, whereas the pay office needed my timesheet posted yesterday and I was supposed to be somewhere else at 12...
I have to take heart though from the fact that I have more than one thing going on to keep track of, and that I do have a life again that doesn't simply consist of endless medical appointments and not much else. I don't mind unpicking seams half as much now as I used to as at least it means I had a go at sewing them in the first place, and I spotted the mistake before it was too late to change something. I still haven't quite plucked up the courage to attempt to unpick a counted cross-stitch I started some months ago and somehow managed to get the centre line in the wrong place, despite carefully (I thought...) counting the holes twice to make sure! Some mistakes are easier to fix than others.
Given what feels like personality transplants and my brain short-circuiting at times over the last few years I can understand why there have been people convinced they've been abducted by aliens in their sleep etc. It wouldn't need much mental instability, paranoia, certain drugs, or living amidst a culture of fear, scaremongering and some really dubious red tops 'journalism' on top of my own kind of experiences to really freak folk out. It's freaky enough at times as it is when I have a perfectly rational medical explanation for it all! Mind you when I had the third pregnancy test done on me this year irrespective of me pointing out that whilst I dropped biology at school as soon as possible, I did know enough to know without a doubt that I couldn't possibly be, there was that back of the mind thought 'But what about the Midwich Cuckoos?' I'm still debating whether aliens would be preferable to angels proclaiming or not... Thankfully the tests all agreed with me that I wasn't, so that all remains hypothetical!
So life trundles on. The 'guilt pile' is slowly being tackled and whilst new things inevitably get added to it at least I've not been looking at them all year. Another sewing project is close to completion, and only 6mths late this time so there is actually a chance of folk getting handmade Christmas presents after all. I'm not going to say when they'll get them mind, that feels far too much like tempting fate!
Thursday, January 09, 2014
a decade on...
This week has been full of '10yrs ago I was...' moments and musings as 10 years ago on Monday I arrived in Aotearoa New Zealand for the first time, getting picked up at the airport by Margaret & Robert and taken to their home. I was here for the 2004 FWCC Triennial and some travelling around visiting f/Friends and family - a 'once in a lifetime' trip which changed my life completely.
So what better way to spend Monday then than by staying with Margaret & Robert, waking up in the same (but looking radically different!) house on my way home from Summer Gathering, and later getting dropped off by Margaret and their children (both born since my initial visit) back at the airport - only this time the Domestic terminal to head home to Kaitaia.
At Summer Gathering had been some of the people who had been part of that life changing process, both at the Triennial and during my travels around the country afterwards. As I face another uncertain year it was wonderful to have their presence as a reminder of how the Spirit really can move in mysterious ways and that everything will all fall into place, if only you have the faith to let it.
As if that wasn't enough yesterday I received an email from the mother of one of my dearest Triennial (and WGYF) f/Friends, who I had also met at the Triennial too and again in Kenya in 2012 asking me this "I need a quote for my art show from you, someone from the other side of the world.. fast... "If today were your last day on earth, what would you want to say as wisdom to your loved ones?"..." At first I hesitated, thinking oh I'll come back to this once I've finished my emails and given it some thought... but then I realised that whilst I might be able to tidy up the English with more time, I knew the basic essence of what I wanted to say already, so as Cat used to say (and no doubt still does...) 'think it, do it', and I hit reply with this "Well the immediate thought that sprang into my head was the Oscar Wilde quote ' Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.' The importance of being true to myself has become increasingly important to me over the years, and every time life has become a struggle it has been because I've strayed from that path to be someone other people want/expect me to be - or worse that I think they want/expect me to be without actually stopping to check!". Then just to make sure I really was listening to my own advice I had a conversation with my brother via skype this morning along very similar lines, seems like he's finally figuring that one out too.
Occasionally I'm asked questions like 'where do you envisage yourself to be in 10 years time?' and I look blankly in reply having no idea, after all there is no way in the world I could have predicted where I am now in life as I sat on the island hill top in the Bay of Islands 10 years ago today wondering what my future would hold. Hopefully I'll be happy, with a bit of luck healthy, but most importantly I hope I'll be 'me'.
So what better way to spend Monday then than by staying with Margaret & Robert, waking up in the same (but looking radically different!) house on my way home from Summer Gathering, and later getting dropped off by Margaret and their children (both born since my initial visit) back at the airport - only this time the Domestic terminal to head home to Kaitaia.
At Summer Gathering had been some of the people who had been part of that life changing process, both at the Triennial and during my travels around the country afterwards. As I face another uncertain year it was wonderful to have their presence as a reminder of how the Spirit really can move in mysterious ways and that everything will all fall into place, if only you have the faith to let it.
As if that wasn't enough yesterday I received an email from the mother of one of my dearest Triennial (and WGYF) f/Friends, who I had also met at the Triennial too and again in Kenya in 2012 asking me this "I need a quote for my art show from you, someone from the other side of the world.. fast... "If today were your last day on earth, what would you want to say as wisdom to your loved ones?"..." At first I hesitated, thinking oh I'll come back to this once I've finished my emails and given it some thought... but then I realised that whilst I might be able to tidy up the English with more time, I knew the basic essence of what I wanted to say already, so as Cat used to say (and no doubt still does...) 'think it, do it', and I hit reply with this "Well the immediate thought that sprang into my head was the Oscar Wilde quote ' Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.' The importance of being true to myself has become increasingly important to me over the years, and every time life has become a struggle it has been because I've strayed from that path to be someone other people want/expect me to be - or worse that I think they want/expect me to be without actually stopping to check!". Then just to make sure I really was listening to my own advice I had a conversation with my brother via skype this morning along very similar lines, seems like he's finally figuring that one out too.
Occasionally I'm asked questions like 'where do you envisage yourself to be in 10 years time?' and I look blankly in reply having no idea, after all there is no way in the world I could have predicted where I am now in life as I sat on the island hill top in the Bay of Islands 10 years ago today wondering what my future would hold. Hopefully I'll be happy, with a bit of luck healthy, but most importantly I hope I'll be 'me'.
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
strengthening our constitution
On Saturday Friends in the Far North hosted a workshop in Kerikeri looking at the 1840 Te Tiriti o Waitangi and Treaty of Waitangi (there being two versions, one in each language - and they don't match), our country's unwritten constitution and He Whakaputanga, the 1835 Declaration of Independence.
There were twelve of us participating - half Quakers, half interested locals attracted by an short plug in the local newspaper. So with David James of the Rowan Partnership being our Quaker facilitator we just outnumbered the visitors! Some Friends had expressed trepidation about advertising locally, worried that those who just wanted to rant would come along, but those fears were unfounded. Our visitors included Tangata Whenua (local Māori), New Zealanders of European descent and, like many of the Quakers present, someone who had emigrated to this country.
Much of the benefit of the day was gaining a better understanding of why the constitutional system we have doesn't work, but aside from that the things that really touched my heart rather than my head were comments made by two of our visitors.
One, who had said in the introductions that he'd 'come to be a Quaker for the day' shared at lunchtime how he had been to a Quaker Meeting once before down in Palmerston North out of curiosity as he'd been staying along the road from the Meeting House. Like many people on their first encounter with silent/waiting worship he sat there for a while wondering 'when it was going to start', and it was only when Friends shared afterwards their 'almost ministry' or thoughts during Meeting that he realised that they'd 'all been connecting with their wairua together, and that was really neat' (wairua being spirit). He put it so simply, yet really encapsulated what it is we do in Meeting for Worship - I've heard it said by several people in the past, the Māori language has a way for describing the spiritual, and Quakerly concepts, that leaves English looking clumsy. As a Yearly Meeting this really is something we should make better use of!
Another of the visitors was a local kaumatua, a Māori elder, he described the values he sees as enshrined in He Whakaputanga.
Tapu - respecting that which is sacred in the places and people involved; in doing so you acknowledge and uphold their mana, their self-worth and status (a poor translation, but English doesn't really have an equivalent concept). Tika, doing things right shows pono, integrity or faith in what is being said and done; sharing aroha, love, between all of us as we work towards hohourongo which (again poorly) translates as reconciliation between us, or forgiveness.
It was a priviledge to have him with us, and even more so to hear him at the end of the day checking he had contact details for the local Quakers sorted as 'our people need to meet with you people more often like this and see how it is done'. I felt that we really had been able to meet together in the spirit of He Whakaputanga, and had at least done something to help uphold our YMs commitment to honouring our Te Tiriti obligations and the constitutional review process.
As goodbyes were being said we felt like there had been some connections made that would hopefully lead to our paths crossing again, but even if not our wairua had become entwined and would travel on within each other regardless.
There were twelve of us participating - half Quakers, half interested locals attracted by an short plug in the local newspaper. So with David James of the Rowan Partnership being our Quaker facilitator we just outnumbered the visitors! Some Friends had expressed trepidation about advertising locally, worried that those who just wanted to rant would come along, but those fears were unfounded. Our visitors included Tangata Whenua (local Māori), New Zealanders of European descent and, like many of the Quakers present, someone who had emigrated to this country.
Much of the benefit of the day was gaining a better understanding of why the constitutional system we have doesn't work, but aside from that the things that really touched my heart rather than my head were comments made by two of our visitors.
One, who had said in the introductions that he'd 'come to be a Quaker for the day' shared at lunchtime how he had been to a Quaker Meeting once before down in Palmerston North out of curiosity as he'd been staying along the road from the Meeting House. Like many people on their first encounter with silent/waiting worship he sat there for a while wondering 'when it was going to start', and it was only when Friends shared afterwards their 'almost ministry' or thoughts during Meeting that he realised that they'd 'all been connecting with their wairua together, and that was really neat' (wairua being spirit). He put it so simply, yet really encapsulated what it is we do in Meeting for Worship - I've heard it said by several people in the past, the Māori language has a way for describing the spiritual, and Quakerly concepts, that leaves English looking clumsy. As a Yearly Meeting this really is something we should make better use of!
Another of the visitors was a local kaumatua, a Māori elder, he described the values he sees as enshrined in He Whakaputanga.
Tapu - respecting that which is sacred in the places and people involved; in doing so you acknowledge and uphold their mana, their self-worth and status (a poor translation, but English doesn't really have an equivalent concept). Tika, doing things right shows pono, integrity or faith in what is being said and done; sharing aroha, love, between all of us as we work towards hohourongo which (again poorly) translates as reconciliation between us, or forgiveness.
It was a priviledge to have him with us, and even more so to hear him at the end of the day checking he had contact details for the local Quakers sorted as 'our people need to meet with you people more often like this and see how it is done'. I felt that we really had been able to meet together in the spirit of He Whakaputanga, and had at least done something to help uphold our YMs commitment to honouring our Te Tiriti obligations and the constitutional review process.
As goodbyes were being said we felt like there had been some connections made that would hopefully lead to our paths crossing again, but even if not our wairua had become entwined and would travel on within each other regardless.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
don't worry, be happy...
I was reading a post about 'the habits of supremely happy people' several people I know had shared on facebook and it made me think about a the power of positive thinking. Over the last few years various friends of mine realised that many of their facebook updates were moans and groans - mostly probably around the time the 'word clouds' of your most common status words became a popular widget to play with - and decided to make an effort to post positive updates, or at least see the silver lining in the bad times. From what I can gather it has made a difference to how they see their lives, I know it certainly makes a difference to how I feel reading my newsfeed!
Whilst I don't do anything like the 'find one thing every day to be grateful for' and post it online challenge I did have a gratitude journal a few years ago when I was going through a rough time. Each night as I went to bed I wrote down five things to be grateful for that day. Some days it was easy and I could've filled the page, others it was tough going even to get started. I spotted the book that had set me off on this journey on the library shelves this week when shelving and almost borrowed it thinking that maybe I should revisit it and see what other changes I could now bring into my life. The only reason I didn't was the pile of books I already have waiting to be read - some of which need to go back to the library! But it is good to know it is there.
I realised whilst keeping the journal that half the time what got me down was the negative attitudes of those around me. When all you hear are complaints about yourself and other people it is hard to keep positive - the old adage of 'if you can't say something nice say nothing at all' is one that could do with being put into practice more often! It is especially hard if you never or rarely hear the good things about yourself and others, trying to figure out what is expected of you from what isn't appreciated about others is a pretty soul destroying method which also leaves you wondering what complaints are made about you that you don't hear!
Focusing on the good things that happen, especially in times of adversity, certainly makes life more bearable. I've also found that it has made me realise that sometimes the best things that happen seem to occur at the darkest of times. Maybe it is just like a drink when you're parched tasting better than one you didn't really need and it is the adversity that makes it seem better than it would otherwise, but the reason why it feels so good doesn't take away from the pleasure.
When I was in Melborne earlier this year I was trying to remember the name of a film I had watched which featured the work of Masaru Emoto who showed quite graphically the effect of negative images and sounds on water - thankfully Jo could remember it was 'What the bleep do we know?' so I could track it down again. Given how much of our bodies is made up of water is it any wonder that being surrounded by negativity has an impact on us physically, mentally and emotionally?
I do wonder sometimes if the things people do (or don't do!) that seem to cause so much stress for others are often done (or not done...) in ignorance of the impact on others. We're not all mind readers (probably a good thing really) so rather than complain, maybe we just need to be more upfront about asking for what it is that we need in order to have a happier life, not just for ourselves but those around us too.
Monday, May 20, 2013
rewind, repeat...
Occassionally I look at the statistics that blogger provides so I can see which posts have been read most often recently, a bit like with looking at similar stats on Flickr, it is more out of curiosity than anything else - I know what I read/look at of other peoples', what do they find interesting that I have to say/show? It is probably an insight into search engine results too as no doubt that is how most people find them beyond the few regular readers/viewers. Sometimes the results make me curious enough to go back and re-read a post as often I can't remember from just a title what it was I was blogging about - this time it was the post I wrote seven years ago called 'serenity'.
Reading the post, and the one I'd linked to that had originally prompted me to write it, I was struck by the resonance again for me of the seven year cycles of life theory. I already knew that in some ways I was revisiting life seven years ago, in fact quite uncannily so on some fronts, and there I was, just home from Meeting for Worship, reading something that followed on from what had been going on in my head during the silence.
So have I made any progress in the last seven years or am I destined to go through it all again at some point? Well sort of. I've got better at deciding that in some situations the only thing to do is stick it in the 'wait and see' box and await further instructions. Although having come to the conclusion today that the answer is just see what happens and pray god has a plan about something because I certainly don't (and not for lack of trying), has taken me rather longer than it ought.
Envisioning my future has never been my strong point, and given how many twists and turns my life has taken that is really no surprise, I'd never have predicted emigrating for a start. But here I am, hopefully a little more serene, definitely just as clueless as to what the future holds but with the wisdom of hindsight and ability to recognise patterns in life that hopefully mean that this time around I'll get the things I can and can't change the right way around.
Reading the post, and the one I'd linked to that had originally prompted me to write it, I was struck by the resonance again for me of the seven year cycles of life theory. I already knew that in some ways I was revisiting life seven years ago, in fact quite uncannily so on some fronts, and there I was, just home from Meeting for Worship, reading something that followed on from what had been going on in my head during the silence.
So have I made any progress in the last seven years or am I destined to go through it all again at some point? Well sort of. I've got better at deciding that in some situations the only thing to do is stick it in the 'wait and see' box and await further instructions. Although having come to the conclusion today that the answer is just see what happens and pray god has a plan about something because I certainly don't (and not for lack of trying), has taken me rather longer than it ought.
Envisioning my future has never been my strong point, and given how many twists and turns my life has taken that is really no surprise, I'd never have predicted emigrating for a start. But here I am, hopefully a little more serene, definitely just as clueless as to what the future holds but with the wisdom of hindsight and ability to recognise patterns in life that hopefully mean that this time around I'll get the things I can and can't change the right way around.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Epistling
I'm not sure if that is a real word or not, but it will do!
I was asked if I'd be on our Epistle committee at YM last weekend, along with two other Friends. Knowing I had quite a heavy workload on already whilst there I was hesitant, but knew I had to do it. I've moaned often enough about epistles turning into reports in the past so felt obliged to 'be the change you want to see'.
It was an interesting experience trying to take useful notes in session, and I found I was writing down expressions and quotes voiced by Friends rather than the facts and details that were shared. Many of those voices found their way into the finished epistle and I'm grateful for the spirit moving through them.
There were several times when we had to discern which were 'newsletter moments' and which were epistle ones - the 'tuis outside the window and the 2Es at the desk' being one of the easier ones (and yes I know that really the plural of tui is ngā tui not tuis but I'm afraid the anglicised version tends to predominate). In jokes take a bit more explaining than a glossary footnote allows!
One very affirming experience was that each of the suggestions we received in the basket from Friends turned out to be something we'd already included, indicative perhaps of how gathered and cohesive YM felt this year.
It was still too long really in the end, but honouring our bi-cultural commitment doesn't make for a low word count when you meet in the rohe of three iwi and include both names of our YM! Hopefully though we've done better than a well known character of a previous Meeting of mine who after 5 minutes or more of vocal ministry would say "and I've said too much already, but..." and then proceed to double the length of his ministry without actually adding to the message.
Being active in the worldwide family of Friends certainly made me more mindful of maintaining a balance between being true to ourselves and the character of our YM, and ensuring that we didn't put out what to many might feel like a secular statement. Our first drafting certainly felt it was leaning towards the latter and I went into Meeting for Worship on the Sunday morning holding that concern and wondering where I'd find the words we needed given that none of the committee leaned to naturally talking in a more religious framework. As we went into worship someone said 'well at least you will get a rest now and won't have to take notes for an hour!', to quote another kind of tui - yeah right... we got gifted with so much inspiration during that hour from the vocal ministry given that the rest of the epistle just flowed from there. Ask and it shall be given, seek and ye may find!
I'm still not sure I'd volunteer to be on an epistle committee again, but I'm grateful for the opportunity this gave me, for having two wonderful women, Valerie and Carril, to work with and for it making me see YM through a different lens as I tried to focus on the spirit and message we had for the world, rather than the nitty gritty of business to report back to my Worship Group later.
I was asked if I'd be on our Epistle committee at YM last weekend, along with two other Friends. Knowing I had quite a heavy workload on already whilst there I was hesitant, but knew I had to do it. I've moaned often enough about epistles turning into reports in the past so felt obliged to 'be the change you want to see'.
It was an interesting experience trying to take useful notes in session, and I found I was writing down expressions and quotes voiced by Friends rather than the facts and details that were shared. Many of those voices found their way into the finished epistle and I'm grateful for the spirit moving through them.
There were several times when we had to discern which were 'newsletter moments' and which were epistle ones - the 'tuis outside the window and the 2Es at the desk' being one of the easier ones (and yes I know that really the plural of tui is ngā tui not tuis but I'm afraid the anglicised version tends to predominate). In jokes take a bit more explaining than a glossary footnote allows!
One very affirming experience was that each of the suggestions we received in the basket from Friends turned out to be something we'd already included, indicative perhaps of how gathered and cohesive YM felt this year.
It was still too long really in the end, but honouring our bi-cultural commitment doesn't make for a low word count when you meet in the rohe of three iwi and include both names of our YM! Hopefully though we've done better than a well known character of a previous Meeting of mine who after 5 minutes or more of vocal ministry would say "and I've said too much already, but..." and then proceed to double the length of his ministry without actually adding to the message.
Being active in the worldwide family of Friends certainly made me more mindful of maintaining a balance between being true to ourselves and the character of our YM, and ensuring that we didn't put out what to many might feel like a secular statement. Our first drafting certainly felt it was leaning towards the latter and I went into Meeting for Worship on the Sunday morning holding that concern and wondering where I'd find the words we needed given that none of the committee leaned to naturally talking in a more religious framework. As we went into worship someone said 'well at least you will get a rest now and won't have to take notes for an hour!', to quote another kind of tui - yeah right... we got gifted with so much inspiration during that hour from the vocal ministry given that the rest of the epistle just flowed from there. Ask and it shall be given, seek and ye may find!
I'm still not sure I'd volunteer to be on an epistle committee again, but I'm grateful for the opportunity this gave me, for having two wonderful women, Valerie and Carril, to work with and for it making me see YM through a different lens as I tried to focus on the spirit and message we had for the world, rather than the nitty gritty of business to report back to my Worship Group later.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Much Muttering...
After a discussion about this with a couple of elders after our (shiny new!) Monthly Meeting held in Rotorua last weekend they asked me to put it into writing so they could share it with MM elders & overseers and at the Yearly Meeting E&O's meeting in May. When I mentioned this on facebook Lee suggested I share it more widely... so here you go, blame Lee! (I've edited this slightly from the original to protect the not-so-innocent. Apologies if you don't speak Quaker jargon or know the alphabet soup of acronyms - I've added some links to help out!)
At YM last year in Matamata there were 5 of us under 60 years of age. Four of whom were presenting and could only be there for part of the time (for 3 of us due to having to get home to work on Monday or on to the next speaking engagement - not sure about the 4th as she arrived so shortly before I left!). Rick was the only under 60yr old there for the full time and completely through choice rather than obligation! A YF was there to help set up but had other commitments and was not able to stay for any sessions.
An increasing proportion of regular attenders at YM are in their 80s and unless we encourage some younger members to attend YM we are soon going to find ourselves with a very limited pool of experienced YM'ers who are familiar with YM business practice and right ordering.
When I have raised this with people the usual response is 'so how do we encourage our YFs to participate?' - I would argue that the 30-60yr old group are as much an issue as YFs if not more.
Often family committments is cited as a reason for non-participation - in the UK the public holiday long weekend YMs (they have a longer full week residential event every 3yrs or so) have the full scope of ages from creche to 90s, some of the American YMs send out epistles from their main sessions, Young Adult Friends, JYFs, older and younger children's groups - some of these groups may only have 3 or 4 children in them, but they are still programmed to be an integral part of the YM event. By not providing anything for children and young people during YM what message are we giving to those families in terms of how we value them as part of our YM structure? Both the children and young people but also their parents. When you have grown up attending YM, gradually attending more of the main sessions then attending it fully as a YF or older adult is a natural step, not a scary step into the unknown.
Image is another reason given - YM is often perceived as lots of old people doing Quaker business for a weekend. As a description it is hardly a massive draw card! Yes it is predominantly elderly but that won't change unless we help it to, however the perception of it being a weekend full of business is fairly misleading - most years recently we have had the Quaker lecture, there are several presentations by YM committees/appointees on a number of really interesting topics of concern, there is the opportunity for F/friendship and fellowship, Meetings for Worship, retreat days, meeting overseas visitors... all of which sound far more appealing! Yes there are business sessions which can on occassions be lengthy and difficult, but better Friends come and dip in and out as they build up their YM stamina than not come at all. I know many in Britain YM who started attending mainly for social reasons - it was an opportunity to meet up with Friends, and as the years went on they attended more and more sessions and became self-confessed YM-junkies, they don't want to miss one or even a session in case they end up missing something truly momentous - the session on agreeing to actively campaign for same sex marriage, and BYM making a committment to aim to be a low carbon organisation being some recent examples. They want to be able to say with pride 'yes I was there!' - I've yet to hear anyone speak like that about our YM, but maybe I'm not talking to the right people about it?
Other obstacles include financial, especially if YM isn't in the school holidays those tied to the education sector as participants or staff need to miss school/lectures or take unpaid leave to attend, for parents it can add many complciations to home life and many of those working in any sector need to use up scarce leave entitlement or take unpaid leave. How well do we make it known that financial assistance is available to anyone who needs it (not just the two MM reps) - and if it isn't available then why not? How can we acknowledge the sacrifice Friends need to make up to attend YM and make it more worth their while? Perhaps a koha from a hardship fund for those who have to take unpaid leave who can ill afford to do so on top of travel expenses? Or a reduction in registration fees?
Another obstacle is timing - running from Friday afternoon to Monday lunchtime on an ordinary w/e means missing two days of school/college/work for many - if we did provide programmes for children & young people they would be missing two days of schooling to attend which probably isn't a good thing to be encouraging! If we aren't to meet in the term breaks would a weekend with a public holiday attached work better? Easter is the obvious one - yes YF Camp is that w/e however Australian YFs organise their YF Camp to be in the same vicinity as YM each year, this would not be impossible to replicate here, and then it would be easier for more of them to attend particular (more appealing?) sessions of YM (as happens elsewhere around the world).
So what this boils down to is some major inreach - how do we present YM in session to Friends in our Meetings? Do we encourage those other than 'the regulars' to attend - what incentives might we offer? A first timers discount perhaps as an introduction to YM (a good use of the Quaker Education Fund I would have thought - especially if you got some booklets on Quaker business practice thrown in to the bargain, there are some Pendle Hill pamplets and booklets from Britain YM if we don't have something suitable of our own yet). When we discuss Documents in Advance/White Papers do we just go through with a nit-picking comb or spend time discussing some of the work that is being done by/for Friends expanding our knowledge and sharing experiences and raising wider concerns as to how Meetings can do more to support the work that is being done in our name? Who would we like to invite to come and tell us more about what they have shared? I know from having written several reports for Docs in Advance that there is always far more you could say if you thought anyone was interested! Do we use it as a tool to generate interest within our MMs in the work of Friends at home and overseas (via QPSANZ, FWCC, QUNO etc) or is the idea to get through it as fast as possible so we can all go home?
Which leads me nicely on to participation in MM....
During the evening session at the gathering in Rotorua last weekend which covered the old MMs of Waitemata North, Bay of Plenty/Auckland and Waikato/Hauraki and the new MMs of Northern and Mid North Island we lined up in order of years of involvement with Friends - the person at the bottom of the line with the least experience had been a Friend for 10yrs.
Where were those Friends who have been involved for less? Why weren't they there? When you look around MM business meetings month to month is it just the seasoned Friends who have been around either as members or attenders for many years? My experience of attending MM in 3 MMs in this YM is that generally yes that is the case - and the few younger faces have almost all grown up in Quaker families and so have been Friends for far longer than many of those twice their age.
Some of the same reasons apply as for YM. But also many seasoned Friends will admit that yes MM sessions can be a bit dry and tedious but they have to be done and no-one wants to make them last any longer than is humanly possible!
I first attended MM in session at the age of 16, I had to give a verbal report on attending Junior Yearly Meeting which I had attended as a MM rep. I did the same the following year on the Quaker Youth Pilgrimage, and 3 other times that year (and the five years following) I reported back on Young Friends Central Committee. Given that as luck would have it all the first couple of years of reporting to MM were at Meeting Houses other than my local one I was stuck there for the whole of MM whether I liked it or not as I awaited my lift home! But that didn't matter so much as for a few years I had been going to MM about 3 or 4 times a year to meet up with the other children and young people, we'd go for walks, make music, do art work depending on which Meeting we were at and who was left to look after us - we knew what we would be doing so came prepared/suitably dressed. Then at the end there was always an amazing MM tea with so many cakes and other goodies it was like a birthday party!
Of course we got to know various adults in the MM this way so by the time I had to give my first report it wasn't entirely a room of strangers, I was definitely quaking though none the less! This pattern was much the same as I progressed through YFs and still reported back to whichever MM I was in at the time. Verbal reports were encouraged, written ones could follow but on their own were seen as a poor substitute - they wanted to see and hear us, and looking back now I realise that such reports were what made the more tedious premises and budget items etc more bearable. Reports by YFs or any other Friend who had attended an event etc were usually 3rd or 4th on the agenda, so even if the Friend did slip away after they had 'done their bit' they had still experienced some Quaker business and might feel more encouraged to stay longer next time (tedious items were usually after reports, once Friends had been lulled into a more relaxed frame of mind!).
Another practice we had was the Sunday following MM a Friend nominated in advance would give a short verbal report on MM to their worship group during notices, this way those who hadn't been there got to hear something of the flavour of the Meeting beyond the bare bones of the Minutes (and often included a comment on the quality of the MM spread - each Meeting had it's own specialities!), news of Friends from other Meetings within the MM might also be shared at this time. This strengthened the sense of being part of the MM community and gave a good basis for conversation starters for those curious to learn more. I started attending Preparative Meeting (the local Worship Group business meeting held the Sunday before MM) aged 14 as Mum was Assistant Clerk and then later Clerk and Dad was Treasurer, as a result I ended up being appointed to be one of our local Meeting's reps on the MM 'Friendship Day' committee (and annual event of all age activities and discussions, and of course including a spectacular shared meal!) - I've held some Quaker post or other pretty much constantly ever since! Do we encourage our young people to come along and get involved? (Hopefully none of them will ever have to sit through six months worth of discussion on toilet renovations like I did though...) { no doubt my parents will correct me on the actual timeframe - lets just agree it was too long! } After a while you get sucked in, you want to know how something resolved that was held over until next month, you want to be part of the ongoing discernment process over a Friends concern, was the Friend who applied accepted into membership? etc etc etc.... almost 30yrs later I'm still going to business meetings but these days more often than not I'm back to being the youngest person in the room, surely by now I shouldn't be?
I'm not saying MMs I've attended back in the UK were perfect - they were not by any means, in fact none of them lived up to the quality and spiritual depth of business meetings we had at YFCC (now called Young Friends General Meeting) - those of us who had been active YFs had high standards and grumbled endlessly about these older Friends who didn't live up to them outwith YM sessions, but at least we were there to know how 'bad' they were - and we still went back for more! When serving as an overseer in one MM we had a roster to ensure that there was at least one of us guaranteed to be at each MM and the elders did the same. Sometimes it felt like the short straw when your month came around it has to be said, but it was attending an MM because it was my 'turn' that led eventually to me now being here in Aotearoa NZ, the spirit moves in mysterious ways...
How can we engage more Friends to participate in the work of our MMs and YMs? YM Nominations Committee has been working hard to try to find 'new' names to bring into the fold and hopefully get them to YM in session at least once as a result - but it needs more than that. Somehow we are not reaching out to Friends, we are not offering what we have in a way that is attractive to them, and possibly that means changing what we offer. Yes what we have suits many of those who do attend, but given the proportion of over 80s at YM how much longer can we realistically expect these Friends to carry the weight of YM decision making on their shoulders without wider support? How do we give Friends sufficient first hand experience of Quaker business method so that they can later take on clerking in the manner of Friends rather than that of a secular society's committee meeting? Similarly how can we expect Friends to be able to provide elder support within business sessions if they aren't sure how it should be run?
At the 'Whoosh!' conference at Woodbrooke last year, Paul Parker, Recording Clerk of Britain YM, shared an anecdote about two small Meetings he had attended of roughly equal size, one had a sense of dwindling and dying, the other a sense of excitement and hope - I would like to think we can follow the example of the latter rather than the former and find ways in which our YM and MMs, particularly when gathered for business etc, can 'whoosh!' forwards with enthusiasm rather than become an inevitably smaller and increasingly elderly and frail collection of Friends with insufficient energy to follow our concerns and achieve our visions. I feel priviledged to have been able to read so much of the documentation that came out of that conference and would love to see its like happen here...
Sorry this is so long... succinct has never been my strong point! Thank you for bearing with me this far along what could prove to be an extended journey.
ps Mum's comment on reading this: "But was it only six months we had the toilet renovation on the agenda?! Surely longer..." - I rest my case! It was probably 6 mths just to decide whether to have two toilets or a toilet and a urinal in the gents... :/
At YM last year in Matamata there were 5 of us under 60 years of age. Four of whom were presenting and could only be there for part of the time (for 3 of us due to having to get home to work on Monday or on to the next speaking engagement - not sure about the 4th as she arrived so shortly before I left!). Rick was the only under 60yr old there for the full time and completely through choice rather than obligation! A YF was there to help set up but had other commitments and was not able to stay for any sessions.
An increasing proportion of regular attenders at YM are in their 80s and unless we encourage some younger members to attend YM we are soon going to find ourselves with a very limited pool of experienced YM'ers who are familiar with YM business practice and right ordering.
When I have raised this with people the usual response is 'so how do we encourage our YFs to participate?' - I would argue that the 30-60yr old group are as much an issue as YFs if not more.
Often family committments is cited as a reason for non-participation - in the UK the public holiday long weekend YMs (they have a longer full week residential event every 3yrs or so) have the full scope of ages from creche to 90s, some of the American YMs send out epistles from their main sessions, Young Adult Friends, JYFs, older and younger children's groups - some of these groups may only have 3 or 4 children in them, but they are still programmed to be an integral part of the YM event. By not providing anything for children and young people during YM what message are we giving to those families in terms of how we value them as part of our YM structure? Both the children and young people but also their parents. When you have grown up attending YM, gradually attending more of the main sessions then attending it fully as a YF or older adult is a natural step, not a scary step into the unknown.
Image is another reason given - YM is often perceived as lots of old people doing Quaker business for a weekend. As a description it is hardly a massive draw card! Yes it is predominantly elderly but that won't change unless we help it to, however the perception of it being a weekend full of business is fairly misleading - most years recently we have had the Quaker lecture, there are several presentations by YM committees/appointees on a number of really interesting topics of concern, there is the opportunity for F/friendship and fellowship, Meetings for Worship, retreat days, meeting overseas visitors... all of which sound far more appealing! Yes there are business sessions which can on occassions be lengthy and difficult, but better Friends come and dip in and out as they build up their YM stamina than not come at all. I know many in Britain YM who started attending mainly for social reasons - it was an opportunity to meet up with Friends, and as the years went on they attended more and more sessions and became self-confessed YM-junkies, they don't want to miss one or even a session in case they end up missing something truly momentous - the session on agreeing to actively campaign for same sex marriage, and BYM making a committment to aim to be a low carbon organisation being some recent examples. They want to be able to say with pride 'yes I was there!' - I've yet to hear anyone speak like that about our YM, but maybe I'm not talking to the right people about it?
Other obstacles include financial, especially if YM isn't in the school holidays those tied to the education sector as participants or staff need to miss school/lectures or take unpaid leave to attend, for parents it can add many complciations to home life and many of those working in any sector need to use up scarce leave entitlement or take unpaid leave. How well do we make it known that financial assistance is available to anyone who needs it (not just the two MM reps) - and if it isn't available then why not? How can we acknowledge the sacrifice Friends need to make up to attend YM and make it more worth their while? Perhaps a koha from a hardship fund for those who have to take unpaid leave who can ill afford to do so on top of travel expenses? Or a reduction in registration fees?
Another obstacle is timing - running from Friday afternoon to Monday lunchtime on an ordinary w/e means missing two days of school/college/work for many - if we did provide programmes for children & young people they would be missing two days of schooling to attend which probably isn't a good thing to be encouraging! If we aren't to meet in the term breaks would a weekend with a public holiday attached work better? Easter is the obvious one - yes YF Camp is that w/e however Australian YFs organise their YF Camp to be in the same vicinity as YM each year, this would not be impossible to replicate here, and then it would be easier for more of them to attend particular (more appealing?) sessions of YM (as happens elsewhere around the world).
So what this boils down to is some major inreach - how do we present YM in session to Friends in our Meetings? Do we encourage those other than 'the regulars' to attend - what incentives might we offer? A first timers discount perhaps as an introduction to YM (a good use of the Quaker Education Fund I would have thought - especially if you got some booklets on Quaker business practice thrown in to the bargain, there are some Pendle Hill pamplets and booklets from Britain YM if we don't have something suitable of our own yet). When we discuss Documents in Advance/White Papers do we just go through with a nit-picking comb or spend time discussing some of the work that is being done by/for Friends expanding our knowledge and sharing experiences and raising wider concerns as to how Meetings can do more to support the work that is being done in our name? Who would we like to invite to come and tell us more about what they have shared? I know from having written several reports for Docs in Advance that there is always far more you could say if you thought anyone was interested! Do we use it as a tool to generate interest within our MMs in the work of Friends at home and overseas (via QPSANZ, FWCC, QUNO etc) or is the idea to get through it as fast as possible so we can all go home?
Which leads me nicely on to participation in MM....
During the evening session at the gathering in Rotorua last weekend which covered the old MMs of Waitemata North, Bay of Plenty/Auckland and Waikato/Hauraki and the new MMs of Northern and Mid North Island we lined up in order of years of involvement with Friends - the person at the bottom of the line with the least experience had been a Friend for 10yrs.
Where were those Friends who have been involved for less? Why weren't they there? When you look around MM business meetings month to month is it just the seasoned Friends who have been around either as members or attenders for many years? My experience of attending MM in 3 MMs in this YM is that generally yes that is the case - and the few younger faces have almost all grown up in Quaker families and so have been Friends for far longer than many of those twice their age.
Some of the same reasons apply as for YM. But also many seasoned Friends will admit that yes MM sessions can be a bit dry and tedious but they have to be done and no-one wants to make them last any longer than is humanly possible!
I first attended MM in session at the age of 16, I had to give a verbal report on attending Junior Yearly Meeting which I had attended as a MM rep. I did the same the following year on the Quaker Youth Pilgrimage, and 3 other times that year (and the five years following) I reported back on Young Friends Central Committee. Given that as luck would have it all the first couple of years of reporting to MM were at Meeting Houses other than my local one I was stuck there for the whole of MM whether I liked it or not as I awaited my lift home! But that didn't matter so much as for a few years I had been going to MM about 3 or 4 times a year to meet up with the other children and young people, we'd go for walks, make music, do art work depending on which Meeting we were at and who was left to look after us - we knew what we would be doing so came prepared/suitably dressed. Then at the end there was always an amazing MM tea with so many cakes and other goodies it was like a birthday party!
Of course we got to know various adults in the MM this way so by the time I had to give my first report it wasn't entirely a room of strangers, I was definitely quaking though none the less! This pattern was much the same as I progressed through YFs and still reported back to whichever MM I was in at the time. Verbal reports were encouraged, written ones could follow but on their own were seen as a poor substitute - they wanted to see and hear us, and looking back now I realise that such reports were what made the more tedious premises and budget items etc more bearable. Reports by YFs or any other Friend who had attended an event etc were usually 3rd or 4th on the agenda, so even if the Friend did slip away after they had 'done their bit' they had still experienced some Quaker business and might feel more encouraged to stay longer next time (tedious items were usually after reports, once Friends had been lulled into a more relaxed frame of mind!).
Another practice we had was the Sunday following MM a Friend nominated in advance would give a short verbal report on MM to their worship group during notices, this way those who hadn't been there got to hear something of the flavour of the Meeting beyond the bare bones of the Minutes (and often included a comment on the quality of the MM spread - each Meeting had it's own specialities!), news of Friends from other Meetings within the MM might also be shared at this time. This strengthened the sense of being part of the MM community and gave a good basis for conversation starters for those curious to learn more. I started attending Preparative Meeting (the local Worship Group business meeting held the Sunday before MM) aged 14 as Mum was Assistant Clerk and then later Clerk and Dad was Treasurer, as a result I ended up being appointed to be one of our local Meeting's reps on the MM 'Friendship Day' committee (and annual event of all age activities and discussions, and of course including a spectacular shared meal!) - I've held some Quaker post or other pretty much constantly ever since! Do we encourage our young people to come along and get involved? (Hopefully none of them will ever have to sit through six months worth of discussion on toilet renovations like I did though...) { no doubt my parents will correct me on the actual timeframe - lets just agree it was too long! } After a while you get sucked in, you want to know how something resolved that was held over until next month, you want to be part of the ongoing discernment process over a Friends concern, was the Friend who applied accepted into membership? etc etc etc.... almost 30yrs later I'm still going to business meetings but these days more often than not I'm back to being the youngest person in the room, surely by now I shouldn't be?
I'm not saying MMs I've attended back in the UK were perfect - they were not by any means, in fact none of them lived up to the quality and spiritual depth of business meetings we had at YFCC (now called Young Friends General Meeting) - those of us who had been active YFs had high standards and grumbled endlessly about these older Friends who didn't live up to them outwith YM sessions, but at least we were there to know how 'bad' they were - and we still went back for more! When serving as an overseer in one MM we had a roster to ensure that there was at least one of us guaranteed to be at each MM and the elders did the same. Sometimes it felt like the short straw when your month came around it has to be said, but it was attending an MM because it was my 'turn' that led eventually to me now being here in Aotearoa NZ, the spirit moves in mysterious ways...
How can we engage more Friends to participate in the work of our MMs and YMs? YM Nominations Committee has been working hard to try to find 'new' names to bring into the fold and hopefully get them to YM in session at least once as a result - but it needs more than that. Somehow we are not reaching out to Friends, we are not offering what we have in a way that is attractive to them, and possibly that means changing what we offer. Yes what we have suits many of those who do attend, but given the proportion of over 80s at YM how much longer can we realistically expect these Friends to carry the weight of YM decision making on their shoulders without wider support? How do we give Friends sufficient first hand experience of Quaker business method so that they can later take on clerking in the manner of Friends rather than that of a secular society's committee meeting? Similarly how can we expect Friends to be able to provide elder support within business sessions if they aren't sure how it should be run?
At the 'Whoosh!' conference at Woodbrooke last year, Paul Parker, Recording Clerk of Britain YM, shared an anecdote about two small Meetings he had attended of roughly equal size, one had a sense of dwindling and dying, the other a sense of excitement and hope - I would like to think we can follow the example of the latter rather than the former and find ways in which our YM and MMs, particularly when gathered for business etc, can 'whoosh!' forwards with enthusiasm rather than become an inevitably smaller and increasingly elderly and frail collection of Friends with insufficient energy to follow our concerns and achieve our visions. I feel priviledged to have been able to read so much of the documentation that came out of that conference and would love to see its like happen here...
Sorry this is so long... succinct has never been my strong point! Thank you for bearing with me this far along what could prove to be an extended journey.
ps Mum's comment on reading this: "But was it only six months we had the toilet renovation on the agenda?! Surely longer..." - I rest my case! It was probably 6 mths just to decide whether to have two toilets or a toilet and a urinal in the gents... :/
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