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Slow me down Lord

7/31/2018

My dear mum was one of the most impatient people I’ve known. In her latter years I took her to the doctors on a fairly regular basis. It was always the same. Her tolerance was about ten minutes of mindlessly flipping through magazines before she would announce in an exceedingly loud whisper, “He hasn’t called me in yet, do you think he’s forgotten me?”

“No, Mum I’m sure he’s just busy with another patient.”
Two minutes later, “Why is he taking so long?”
“I don’t know Mum, but he will see you soon.”
Two more minutes, “Go and see the receptionist and ask her how much longer”.
Finally, “How can you be so patient?” “Well being impatient isn’t going to make the doctor see you any quicker, Mum”.

"A master of patience is a master of everything." George Savile.

Anything of value, anything worthwhile takes time. Whether it’s learning a language, painting a masterpiece or developing a skill like patience, it doesn’t happen overnight. Mostly it’s three steps forward and two steps back but maybe the two steps backwards are the most important of all. They’re the ones that challenge us to find the strength to begin again, to find a new way forward or come to new understanding.

The final product, the skill or masterpiece, is but a fragment of a long process of becoming and in that process we are changed as imperceptibly as the product evolves.

We live in an increasingly impatient society. It wants instant gratification. We pay extra to have our pizza delivered faster, there’s an app for everything to enable us to fit more into our lives, there's meals to eat on the run and the Internet to give us instant answers to our questions. We live faster than ever before, and short temper seems in epidemic proportions.

It’s easy to buy into the myth that we need to work faster, smarter and harder. Nature tells another story. Nature is a slow awakening, an endless cycle of blossoming and fruitfulness, barrenness and dormancy. The leafless tree is most alive, storing up energy and preparing buds for the fresh round of blossom and fruit. Nature will not be hurried for it accepts its season.

As a writer I've found myself in those barren places lately, lacking inspiration and struggling to find flow. It was an encouragement to read Anne Lamott's perspective on writing. Hope, she suggests, is a ‘revolutionary patience’; it refuses to give up but somehow knows that if it waits and works through the darkness, dawn will break.

How true of all creativity and indeed of life itself. We need to trust in the slow work of God as he shapes us through seasons of fruitfulness and barren places. He can’t be hurried and neither should we.

Slow me down, Lord,
To live each season to the full
not resenting the times of barrenness,
but seeing them as opportunities to listen and receive.

Slow me down, Lord,
and help me to be patient with myself.
Forgive me for wanting the end result rather than the process
of becoming.

Slow me down, Lord,
and help me to see patience,
not as a dutiful resignation to the inevitable,
but an anticipation of the beauty you have in store.

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It is a risky business

7/24/2018

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It was a big step for someone on the far end of the introversion spectrum. Spending four days at an Artist’s Retreat with 24 people I’ve never met; challenging to say the least. But clicking submit on the online registration, I felt a rush of excited anticipation … new ideas, fresh inspiration and maybe a kindred spirit or two. Everything seemed possible.

As I drove to the top of the mountain where all good retreats reside, the nagging question refused to be silenced, “Why ever did you think this was a good idea?” It shouted all the louder as I met the most talented and inspirational people and so many of them were extraverts; spontaneous, fun-loving and bubbly … everything I wish I could be. I felt yet again the pain of introversion. Of finding small talk difficult and a crowd overwhelming, of feeling alone in the explosion of excitement. I feared being labelled once more ... shy, socially inept, aloof, arrogant ... I've heard them all before.

No day was easy for me but every day was filled with inspiration and wonder … music, art, dance, poetry, writing, photography. A mind-blowing diversity and quality of talent in that small group, but the one thing that stood out above everything else was the shared love of God. And not just in rich times of worship, but in the care and lived-out love that permeated the day to day.

I’m so glad that it was a four day retreat, time for one on one conversations and getting to know something of each other's story ... struggles, dreams and aspirations. Time to realise that behind all the talent and extreme giftedness there are struggles and insecurities. That the road is rugged and confusing at times, whatever our personality. And maybe the expectations and misunderstandings experienced by the most gifted are the hardest of all.

The retreat was held in the mountaintop village of Blackheath, a place of great natural beauty which we got to explore. Our accommodation was set in extensive gardens, magnificent in their winter glory.

I found the leaf at the top of the blog on a morning walk. The sun was shining through it and I was reminded that our beauty shines brightest through our brokenness ... that our mistakes and stuff ups may leave blemishes but they don't obscure our beauty.

I left the retreat yesterday feeling thankful and privileged to have been a part of it; with new ideas, fresh inspiration and having found a few kindred spirits. I left affirmed in my own gifting but aware that for me, courage may be the greatest gift of all. Beyond fear lies the unchartered waters of our potential. Without courage we will never know what we are truly capable of.

"Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” Brene Brown

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Quaint, quirky and evocative

7/17/2018

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The best finds are the ones you come across accidentally. There’s a sense of discovery and uncovering a hidden gem. It was down a side street, away from the main shopping and dining strip and I could easily have missed it had its books not caught my attention and a whiff of deliciousness not greeted me at the door.

Book shop cafes are among my favourite things and Anna’s Shop around the Corner at Cronulla, now comes near the top of the list. It’s an eclectic mix of second-hand books, quirky furnishings and simple, home cooked food. I loved the leadlight shades, the deep French armchairs, and pew resplendent with a quaint array of cushions and warm rugs for those frosty mornings and chilly winter evenings (Yes, they open for dinner too).

There were books from every genre to browse with your cup of coffee or purchase to read later. The doorstop consisted of a number of old, hard backed novels, tied with a deep purple ribbon and bags of coffee grains lined up at the door, “Free for your garden”. It’s homey and comfortable with bags of character.

Anna began the bookstore/café ten years ago and judging from the continuous stream of customers, it's a huge success. She’s a welcoming host and you feel at home immediately. I snuggled into the long pew, sinking deep into the stack of cushions and tried to choose from the generous range of cakes and slices while drinking in the old-world charm and whimsey.

While the sleek, white trendy cafes are great, they can be found almost everywhere. This place is unpretentious, evocative and nostalgic – it has personality.

Handmade tooth fairy cushions

Often it's the simple things in life that speak to my soul – old books, pretty fine china and comfortable old chairs – belongings with history.

I wonder who has held those books before me, whose life is a little different because someone penned that page? I wonder about the home where the old chair once filled a treasured corner – who curled up in it to read a child a bedtime story or who rested their weary bones there at end of day?

After my paternal grandmother died, my mother and I were helping clear out her home. Amongst the things being put aside for the opportunity shop were two vases, which I loved. One was a porcelain lined carved wood and brass container and the other a cream porcelain vase covered with pretty floral artwork and a brass edged rim around the top. My mother thought they were ugly and couldn’t understand why I wanted them, but for me they were real treasures.

Some weeks later my parents came for dinner and I’d filled the wooden vase with a huge bunch of tawny coloured chrysanthemums and the china vase with an armful of roses from my garden. My mother remarked on the flower arrangements then suddenly realised that the vases were the ones she’d discarded. “Oh I wish I hadn’t given them away now”, she said.

She hadn’t seen the magic in them ... hadn't imagined what they could become.

I love that Anna has taken what has been discarded and preloved and drawn them together with a new life and a fresh purpose. We can be so quick to discard the old, to fail to see its value but there's something about age and history that turns the simplest things into beauty, even you and me.

Anyone for coffee, cake and a touch of nostalgia?

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Hot scones

7/10/2018

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It was one of those precious moments when you realise that the investment of the past planted seeds that would be passed on to another generation. I was staying with my daughter and her family recently on a Sunday afternoon and she made scones for dinner in memory of a tradition of her childhood.

Sunday lunch was always a baked dinner in our home when she was growing up so the evening meal was something light but I always made scones – date scones, scones with jam and cream, sultana scones or cheese scones. As we sat around her table enjoying scones fresh from the oven, memories came flooding back, wonderful memories of precious family time shared together. Most of all I felt grateful that she remembered.

Every Christmas I would give each of my children a decoration for the tree, one they could take with them once they had a home of their own. Often they were hand-stitched with the date somewhere so that one day as they decorated their tree they would remember home and family Christmases of the past.

The decorations were always given on 25 November. My daughter found waiting for Christmas unbearable so we invented 11/12th Christmas so she had something to look forward to while she waited for the big day. It's a tradition she’s continued with her children.

Traditions take time, effort and imagination but they let the family know they are valued, build family bonds by helping children feel a part of something, and create history and lasting memories. Traditions tie us to our roots but can evolve into our future.

Coming from a Welsh family background, I was always eager for my children to know their roots, so Welsh recipes played a big part in our family as did stories and music from Wales. Through family traditions my children still have a great love of Wales and all things Welsh.

When my daughter went to live in the UK, she headed off with conflicting emotions, extreme excitement and deep apprehension. It was the first time living away from home and leaving her family. At the airport, I handed her a bag of goodies I’d prepared, a bag of gift wrapped packages with instructions on when to open them – on take off, after the first meal, during the first refuelling stop etc. Some were little things to make the flight more enjoyable, others memories of home for her new home and some were cards sharing my thoughts and encouragements. Over the years as other family have gone overseas, I’ve continued the tradition and sometimes they’ve done the same for me.

Every family’s traditions will be different and that’s what makes them special. In their uniqueness they are personal and provide that sense of belonging. And because traditions are ongoing, they provide a sense of continuity and security. They are an investment worth making.

Now I’m a grandmother and get to invest in the lives of my grandchildren so I’ve created a tradition with all 5 children. For their birthday I take them on a birthday adventure. It is always a surprise but comes complete with clues in the week leading up to the outing to heighten the anticipation. It's a day for just the two of us to explore, discover and have fun together and boy do we have fun! It's a great way to get to know them one to one and enjoy them at every stage as they grow and blossom.

I have the joy of planning the adventure and get to do things I might never think to do alone, such as the time we walked steel ropes in the treetops above Taronga Park Zoo, on a Wild Ropes Course! Of course there are lots of photos that make their way into a memory book so each child has a record of the adventures we’ve enjoyed together.

And traditions are not just for families, they build and strengthen friendships through shared memories and togetherness.

Some traditions just evolve like hot scones and love, others take thought and imagination but their value is priceless ... seeds sown today to blossom far into the future and sometimes we are fortunate enough to experience a taste of that.

Scone image: Daniel Bahn Petersen

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Four insights from behind the lens

7/3/2018

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Photography has changed my thinking, the way I interact with the world, and I think I can honestly say, my life. It all began when my daughter was living in the UK and I went to visit. My son insisted I take a camera.

I didn’t own a camera and had never taken photos, so I quickly dismissed the thought. Fortunately my son is a persevering soul and I boarded the plane with a camera and a few short lessons on its operation. I did my best in the first few weeks to capture the essence of what I was experiencing, largely for him, but imperceptibly I became captivated by the world I was seeing through the lens.

Very many rolls of film later I arrived home. My son was suitably impressed with my efforts, chatting on about the amazing depth of field. “Is that good or bad?” I asked, naively. At least I had a wonderful record of a once in a lifetime experience.

A few years later I attended a photographic course and week-by-week as the teacher explained the ‘rules’ and what constituted a good photo, I suddenly realised that I had done those things intuitively. It dawned on me that an adventure to the other side of the world and a caring, persistent son had helped unlock a latent gift. I began to wonder what other gifts might be waiting to be unwrapped.

I realised that I would never know unless I stepped out into new experiences, pushed my boundaries, overcame my fears and believed nothing was impossible. One thing photography has taught me is that we never know what we are capable of until we try. How sad it would be to die with unpackaged gifts.

Photography has taken me on some amazing journeys to places I would never have thought to go; some right under my nose and some way beyond my comfort zone. But wherever I’ve gone it remains true that it’s never enough to walk one way, you need to turn around and walk back the way you came. The perspective is completely different. You see things from a different angle and sometimes see things you missed completely.

That happened to me last week. I was looking down the street intent on what lay ahead and it wasn’t until I walked back the way I’d come that the first image on this blog jumped out from the wall at me … hard to believe, but true of life.

We all have a very clear perspective on life but we need to be able to turn around and look from the other direction to see it from someone else's perspective. It can give us a fresh angle and maybe the ability to see something we might otherwise have missed. It’s amazing to experience how just turning around can give you fresh eyes, literally and figuratively.

And that’s the third thing that photography has done for me, it’s given me a new way of looking at the world. Through the lens I’m always looking for the detail, the wonder, for what’s unique and different, even whimsical or for the hidden beauty I might normally pass by.

Somehow viewing the world through the lens over the years has trained my eye to see that way permanently. It’s made me more observant and aware, more alive to what’s around me. Unconsciously I put a mental frame around a character-filled face, a piece of bark, an intimate moment … around life in action. It’s taught me to connect with the world around me in a more responsive way, not sleepwalking through life or rushing along focused on the goal, but engaging life long the way.

When I’m out with my camera, there is no past or future, there is only the present moment. I am concentrating 100% on what’s in front of me, looking for the next exciting discovery or thing of beauty, and it is therapeutic.

Richard Rohr says that 98% of the time we think in the past or future. We relive or rehash our past or we plan, dream or worry about the future. Check it out half a dozen times today and see if that’s true for you. It is for me.

My grandmother used to say, "We cross so many bridges that we will never need to cross". The future is in God's hands so I need to focus on discovering all today has to offer, give it all I have to give and learn from it all it has to teach me, because tomorrow it will be the past.

Viewing life from behind the lens has not only changed the way I see the world but the way I interact with it. The lens has been my teacher, altered my vision and overflowed into the way I communicate and respond to life.

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Slow me down Lord

It is a risky business

Quaint, quirky and evocative

Hot scones

Four insights from behind the lens

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