Silver linings

 It has been a rough year. We've lost loved ones, not been able to do things we enjoy, we've had to adapt fast to a new situation. And so of course I have grieved, as I know that is healthy. Yet today, rather than focus on what I've lost, I want to notice some of what I've gained this year.

New relationships: by becoming a phone befriender I've 'met' two people I otherwise never would have.

Deeper relationships: I've been pleased to get to know some friends better as I've connected with some people for whom this year has been tricky. Because I've not seen people in the places I usually would, I've had to intentionally think about who to get in touch with.

New ways of being: I have had to be creative in how I've shown my love given that some of my usual ways have been off limits. Instead of visits and hugs I've made heavy use of royal mail and sent flowers or unexpected little gifts or cards. Its not how I thought things would be when my daughter first left home for example, but we've stayed connected. And during the period that would have been her exams, we had some precious conversations when she instead returned from her shifts at the hospital.

New ways of working: If you'd said how much technology I would need to be using in my role I wouldn't have applied for it as I wouldn't have thought myself capable, and yet I have been. I have learned all kinds of skills and even taught others.

New discoveries: Encouraged to stay local for exercise, I have enjoyed the beach next to where I drop my son off at his dad's. I've bought an OS map and undertaken interesting walks on the way back from dropping him off.

Repeat the sounding joy

 There is definitely joy to be found, tho it is tinged with sadness. Laying aside expectations is hard. It is good, if tricky, to focus on the 'what is' rather than the 'what could have been'. Mainly I am living my life in the way I'd like to live it - there has been joy in finding new ways to be. Yesterday I had a socially distanced walk in a beautiful place that I would never have walked in if it hadn't been for the pandemic rules meaning that's where I had to see my daughter. Each morning in December I've phoned the guy I'm telephone befriender for to open my advent calendar and describe to him what's behind the window. It's a calendar I've reused for several years now. There are definite advantages to losing my once prized memory. Each window offering is a surprise ( tho I'd remembered today's would be a nativity scene). Similarly I'm now able to re-watch films or programmes. In the past I'd be annoyed to watch something I'd already viewed - life was too short! - but now I can enjoy it over again as there's so much I simply cannot recall.

Tonight is set to be clear which is great as maybe tonight I'll glimpse the Christmas star (well the conjunction of Saturn and jupiter) whilst I stand out to sing silent night. When the usual can't happen we can make the unusual happen instead.

New questions!

 I had a surprising conversation earlier in the year in which God was blamed for taking everything away. Now I've since grappled with a Brueggemann book about psalms, and am a believer in the importance of lament, and know that God's shoulders are big enough for whatever we heap on them. So in many ways it is fine to blame God and maybe less damaging than blaming people or understandably easier than owning our own responsibility. But I still don't think that God is the cause of, or requires, our losses.

And so it was with much joy yesterday that I listened to someone much more knowledgeable than I describe 'listening theologically' and pose the question how might we know what is of God? The whole module was great and got me thinking about how our bodies might reflect inner thoughts, and how it's important to listen for the gaps in what people share. What resonated for me about my summer conversation tho was how we might discern if what is revealed sounds like God or not. If we believe that perfect love casts out fear, then is what is being claimed to be of God, speaking of love or fear? Is it offering liberation or bondage? Now of course losses can liberate, and spring from love, so God may well be calling us to let go. I see that differently than God taking from us.

And so I'm excited by new questions instead of my usual "where is God in this?" Or "what might God be saying?":

Where is love at work here?

What might freedom look like?

And I should probably get and read everything I can by Jane Leach whose wisdom I enjoy so much :)

You are/ I am enough

I've oh so nearly finished the Brene Brown book that's been competing for my attention for so long now. Just a few pages to go but each paragraph is so good I'm not managing to finish it as I keep wanting to reflect on what she's saying on shame resilience. The book is entitled 

I thought it was just me (but it isn't): making the journey from " what will people think?" To " I am enough"

Basically this is my wish for every human being - that they knew and trusted they were good enough and loveable. Brene's core message is that "we cannot change and grow when we are in shame and we can't use shame to change ourselves or others". Only when we are in touch with our self worth do we have the capacity and confidence to address whatever it is we'd like to work on in ourselves. Building our resilience to shame means we can be our more authentic selves, not needing to change how we present ourselves to the different people in our lives as we are instead content to be who we are wherever we are and who we are with. 

Imagine a world full of such contented people! So at home in their own skin and delighted with who they are, that there was no need for defensiveness. Such delight/ contentedness doesn't mean we don't still want to grow - there's always room for growth - but that springs from a place of self belief rather than self doubt.

Give me just a little more time and then if you want me to post you the book, let me know!

What's mine to do in a global pandemic?

 I've been mulling over David Lamotte's "what's mine to do?" whilst feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the great need right now - in my close circle, my community, nation and world. So many folk are struggling: I've cried at the news this week of a migrant family dying trying to cross the channel, I've despaired that there is so much global and national poverty, and my social media seems to be full of polarised people as to what should be happening to tackle covid19 amidst so much loss (of life, health, work and hope).

I've been pulled in to conversations about how countries compare in the approaches, and I finally remember that actually I don't want to be right, I want to be kind. The truth is I don't know what the right way forward is in terms of lockdown  - but I don't need to know. I'm not running a country. Its not mine to do. So whether I think a leader is doing it better or worse than elsewhere, I don't need to put my energy into defending or disputing it because I can't change it. (Which is not to deny the value of contacting our politicians, voting , or even revolution - these all have their place).

So what is mine to do? I can choose to keep noticing where my encouragement is needed. Where I can show love. It's completely possible (if I keep working on my own feelings too) to show compassion to all those who need it right now. To those who are grieving their various losses, to those afraid of redundancy or the virus, to those struggling with the restrictions as well as those who feel not enough is being done. I don't have to pick "a side" but just love wherever that love is needed.

As well as my listening/ encouraging skills, I have other resources too I can keep looking out for ways to share. I don't currently have time to help out at the food bank but I have been able to set up a direct debit for example. Thinking intentionally about where I spend, and give, continues to be within my power. I'd be foolish to think I can change the whole world at once, but I can play my part in those small changes that ultimately do change the world.

It's always helpful to remember I don't have to do everything, just what's mine. Sending you much love in your discerning as to what's yours  - you don't have to do it all either. 

Divine midwife

 I was in need of something uplifting, and so was especially delighted to read this excellent post which encourages us to consider if our theology might be rooted in patriarchal imagery. Instead of an interventionist God believed to take charge and rescue, called upon to take our pain away, what if God is present alongside us, guiding us to access our inner resources to manage that pain? She quotes Brene Brown "I hoped faith would be an epidural for pain. Turns out to be a midwife who says 'Push. I'm here. Sometimes it hurts.' Dammit."

https://www.facebook.com/673255819772915/posts/1063791314052695/

On love and marriage and records

Last year I got to hear an illuminating presentation on the history of marriage. Many people talk of the current incarnation of marriage as if it’s a God-given institution enshrined in the Bible without realising that men in the Bible had many wives. As I understand it, the modern day concept of marriage is born out of a patriarchal requirement to record rights of ownership and linked to taxation and only in more recent times had anything to do with love.  

My partner is delving into lots of historical records at the moment and I’m dismayed at what we have thought worthy of recording and what is not. Whilst I concede that the date and location of our births and deaths potentially reveals something about us, I’m not convinced that if or who we marry should have any more significance than other facts about us. In our society we privilege romantic relationships over others when science shows that it is our connections that matter and that friendship and attachment to caregivers are crucial - a married relationship may or may not be one of those connections but why would it be viewed in isolation? We never know the full impact of any relationship we’re not in ourselves, but like any relationship between two people a marriage might be liberating and help us be our best selves, or it might be limiting or abusive. We are called to love one another, not to just love one. If people are looking for Biblical guidance, we’re told the greatest commandment is to love God with all our heart and to love our neighbour as ourselves - so that’s loving God, neighbours and ourselves. Being in a marriage maybe enable us to do those three things more fully, or it may not, but to my mind the key thing is the love.

It brings to mind again the song ‘seasons of love’ which asks: 

“How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died

It's time now, to sing out
Though the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends...

Remember the love
(Share love, give love, spread love)”

I’ve never watched Rent, the musical it’s from, I’ll try and remedy that. 

Fortunately I think the way people in the future will research our lives won’t be limited to just official records. Our prolific use of technology will mean anyone interested will hopefully be able to see what, and maybe who, mattered to us. It is our actions that reveal our love, not who we were born to, not if we married, and not how long we lived. The records that matter are stored in our hearts, and those of our neighbours and God. Unlike machines, those records can’t be accessed but to me at least they are the most important. As Beth Nielsen Chapman sings, 

"All that matters when we're gone 

All that mattered all along 

All we have that carries on - is how we love"

Why church?

These strange times give an opportunity to reflect on what’s important, why we do what we do, and to figure new ways of being and doing when old ways are not possible. 

And so I’ve been musing on what it is about church that has it so significant in my life. For me it’s never been about a building. I don’t believe God is any more in one place or one human than another. And so I get to worship and pray and give thanks 24/7, just as easily when I’m lying in bed or picking up one of the amazing leaves currently being shed. There’s lots of material online and in my house to inspire me to think deeper about God and my response, so I don’t feel I have to go somewhere for input, tho it’s a helpful discipline to have a regular place/time to engage or otherwise like my yoga, I could just not get round to it.
There’s something good about doing all that in community tho and in particular one reason I go to a service is to sing collectively. That’s not possible in a Methodist church building at the moment, but it’s still enjoyable to put harmonies to hymns in online worship even tho I can’t hear the voices of everyone else attending. 
The key aspect is that it’s in community. An embodied Body of Christ, that usually literally stands alongside, sings together, hugs. Whilst we’re not for now able to mingle with one another before, during or after a service, I’m not getting chance to listen to how others are, show my love, and indeed share how things are for me and be shown love. I know community is not just about my needs tho, so I have offered to help out if help is needed rather than just say it’s not for me. However I still need to figure ways of staying in community with folk from church whilst the mingling is not allowed. I’ve had contact with those in my contacts... but there’s plenty of folk I don’t have a number for. 

I’ve managed to find new ways of staying connected with my other communities. Book group, choir, the volunteers I supervise, a white people challenging our racism group- we moved online. And yet I’ve not fully found a way to be church when I’m not going to the building. I think whenever we’re joining God in Gods work we’re being church so in some ways things haven’t changed tho it feels a bit more solitary right now. I’ve found new ways to show love and support (that rely heavily on Royal Mail - hurrah for post!). I’m not keen on the gendered nature of the word fellowship, but I’m curious to notice the places I’ve felt this given that I’ve not been in a local church group for many months now. Being out with others in my town in a community litter pick was the nearest - united in a common act of service. 
So what does this mean? I’m passionate in my belief that the church is not something external to me - we are the church - so if I feel something should be different then I need to be that difference. And I constantly have to remind myself that we’re all doing the best we can, that adapting to a global pandemic takes energy and we can’t do everything. Maybe it’s enough to notice for now. Tho I am aware I can’t be the only one wrestling with how to stay connected in these tricky circumstances.

This pondering has prompted me to take action, so hopefully that's a good thing!

The great outdoors

 Like lots of people I'm weary now. I've read useful articles on the 6th month wall, and on surge capacity. I'm also trying to be gentle with myself as I grieve losses and adjust to life without my daughter here, figuring new ways of showing my love. 

My partner shared some wisdom that's really resonated. That human beings are not meant to be indoors all the time, but to seek occasional shelter to sleep for example. This makes so much sense to me. I love life when camping, the vast amount of fresh air. Yet most of my existence is currently cooped up. So these last few days I've made more of a determined effort to get out and I feel much better for it. I'm aware this is going to get increasingly harder so I'm going to have to prioritize it. Breakfast on the backdoor step. A walk regardless of the weather. Days off meaning days out. We discovered a beautiful weir on Sunday and a shout out on Facebook has generated a whole list of as yet unvisited Lancashire delights. 

On not seeking love

 I came across this amazing quote which I find to be bob on. I don’t think it needs any further explanation really. This is how I aspire to live :)

"Everyone in your life is loving you right now, to the best of their ability. Their hearts are as closed or as open as they can possibly be right now. Everyone is dealing with sorrows, fears and joys you may never know. Seeking love in their own way. When you’re trying to get love from others, it really matters how open or closed their hearts are today. You go to war with them, trying to crack them open.

When you’re not seeking love, but instead knowing love as your own true nature, feeling the source of love in your own brilliant heart, you are free, and the battle for love ends. You can now let others love you in their own unique way. However ‘limited’ that may seem to the mind. Because through the eyes of abundance, even limited love is a blessing. An open heart is a miracle, yes, but a closed heart is also to be honoured. So you can let others love you as much as they do. You are no longer a beggar for love. For you know the true source of love: YOU.  "

~ Miguel Angel

Final countdown

 There's just A few days left til my girly leaves home. Some days I'm pretty wobbly about it, others I'm excited. I've had tips already from some knowing friends, aware of how heart wrenching it can be. Projects to occupy me is one. Today I found a new home for a spare tv and I remember just what a feel good hit I get from giving things away, so that's a plan. Things to look forward to is another tip, so I've already booked a day off for my partner's birthday. 

What other tips do you have?

The cows are not a discipline

 I was reminded recently of the tribe who circle around a person who has done something wrong and instead of admonishing, they sing that person's song back to them. I'm not a believer of discipline, I think when we do something wrong we mainly need bringing back to ourselves, we need kindness not cruelty, for people to be gentle not harsh. And so when I caught myself thinking I needed to kick myself up the bottom I realised I was caught up in our culture's unhelpful mean perspective.

Living through a global pandemic, feeling the rawness of losses, crying with empathy at the appealing stories on the news, I need to treat myself (and others) with the greatest degree of kindness possible. I know what I need to do but sometimes forget that my primary goal is to love myself, as well as others. Loving myself includes ensuring I get fresh air - I've been finding that I can go days without leaving the house. Within 5 minutes of walking from my front door I can be amongst hills, cows and trees, which is so restorative for me. I wonder how I can encourage myself to do this more frequently? I do not need to be more disciplined, I need to act more kindly towards myself. I'm confident this is completely possible.

The lies we believe about God

I’m loving this book, such an easy read, so affirming. The title could be a bit off putting as it implies an ability to discern truth from falsehood, but Wm Paul Young repeatedly points out that he doesn’t have all the answers but is encouraging us to question what we might think.

It’s a reminder that we are loved and loveable which is all really that we need to know. 

A friend helped me massively today by simply pointing out that truth. We might have doubts when we’re bogged down in our stuff, but the reality remains that we are ultimately loved. Every single one of us. ☺️

I've only just started reading it but already want to buy and send a copy to pretty much everyone I know. Wouldn't it be ace if we all realised that we are good, are wanted. 

Life is not on hold

I started this blog post two weeks ago but have been preoccupied with engaging in the increased intensity of the Black Lives Matter movement. 

I was suprised by my strong reaction to the phrase that "life is on hold". 

I understand that many people right now are waiting for things to be better. I also know that my experience of lockdown is a lot more positive than for other people. But I also think we’ve been misled if we think living is only about an expected way of spending our time, that it has to involve pubs or shopping or hugging loved ones, even tho we might be really looking forward to doing those things.

We’re still living, whether we’re in a hospital bed, a prison cell, walking down a littered road or sat for hours on a battered settee. I have been inspired by people who have chosen to fully live even tho life did not go as they planned. People falsely improsoned, people dealing with life changing injuries. 

What if we found life in wherever we were?  What if we looked for the opportunities to learn or to give from wherever we are? The folk who seem most content are those able to give thanks for what is rather than what isn’t. I know it can be difficult- there have been times when I have been stuck in depression when gratitude is really difficult. But I also know know that those times were still part of my life - my plans might have been on hold or in disarray but our lives are not.

Appreciating community

A friend was berating the lack of community feeling and I got to appreciate just how strong my own sense of involvement is in various communities. I guess it depends on the circumstances we’re each in- if work occupies a big chunk of our lives, it’s hard to find energy to invest in creating community. And I think it does require investment, I think even in for example cohousing, community isn’t inevitable, everyone has to play their part, and we might have to face a whole lot of fear of rejection etc in reaching out, and accepting that others might initially be wary.

In my own experience (neighbours, church, and other communities such as shared interests like choirs) it involves taking time to chat- asking after one another to build those bonds, it might include cards when we’re experiencing something like a loss. It’s full of give and take but not in a score keeping way - there are people who have shared more with me than I’ll ever share back with them, and people to whom I’ve given that probably will never give something to me in particular but that’s completely fine as the point is a sharing for the common good rather than personal gain. 

The sharing might be tangible. In recent months there has been a surprise on my doorstep most weeks- home baked cookies, eggs, seedlings, an excess of bananas, an Easter Egg. Over the years there has been bags of school uniform, jigsaw puzzles,  and even cash. I remember being delighted to find a milk bottle returned full of flowers from someone’s garden, so my favourite lockdown pastime has been to cut flowers from my wonderfully wild back garden, and leave them on people’s doorsteps.

Of course we are more to one another than material objects. People in my communities have listened to me, encouraged me, hugged me, checked in on me, remembered me, inspired me. And I do that to others too. They’ve also shared gardening tips, asked me for breastfeeding information, offered me tea, driven me to an interview, fed our guinea pigs, I’ve put their bins back, they’ve weeded, I’ve carried bags, washed laundry when their machine broke... all the little things that have us know we are interrelated and do better together than apart. 

Even if communities are built around a shared passion, like singing, we are not all the same and I think a big part of community is staying committed to a concept of caring even tho we vote differently, hold differing beliefs, are in a variety of situations, and sometimes upset or annoy one another.  Communities can be across space  eg Facebook, the Umma (worldwide Muslims) and not just thought of as folk on our street (tho I'd argue that's a really important community to build as if you get locked out, having real life friendly neighbours is vital!)

As often is the case, I learn loads from my daughter. When she was young she wrote Christmas cards for the dog walkers we bumped into on the field (she knew the dog’s names not those of the owners). She recognised early on that it’s important to treasure the people in our lives who shape the fabric of our existence. I keep trying to live by her example. 

Anger, frustration, helplessness?

Like lots of us at the moment, I'm not my best self. I'm irritable, struggling to remember that everyone is doing their best. I'm angry with the government, with racism, with the seeming carelessness of strangers and also those I know. I want to be kind, patient, compassionate. I don't always manage it and my frustration seeps out.

I know that having a Tory government has a life and death impact at the best of times and right now we're not in the best of times. I can't change what it does tho, so have to stay focused only on my actions. I am cross by what I perceive as selfishness of some people but I'm not in their shoes so can't judge the decisions they make.

So what can I do instead of seethe helplessly with indignation?
I can keep noticing where I see others struggling too, and reach out instead of leave each of us isolated.
I have ordered some books to keep working on my own white privilege.
And I need to try and let go, when people make decisions different to those I'd make, even when they impact on me, I can choose to not respond ( its hard tho!). And be super gentle with myself. I'm doing my best too. None of this is easy.

Risk assessing in a capitalist culture

I’ve been encouraged to think about who should decide what risks to take in this pandemic and it’s led to some interesting musing - thanks Will!

Whilst I am generally a rule follower, I’m also a believer in protesting when we don’t agree with ways a government is operating so I do not think we should blindly follow state rules, especially when I believe a ruling party is acting in the interests of the elite rather than for the greater good. Hence the current guidance that we could go to a person’s house to view it if they were selling it or if we were paid to clean it but not because we love the people and want to see them - where’s the profit in that?

However this does not automatically mean I believe that individuals are best placed to make effective risk assessments either. Not because I think people are incapable, but because we have been raised within a capitalist system that encourages us to prioritise certain things (wealth creation, competition) over community, compassion  and collaboration. I think we mainly have been led to believe that decision making should factor things like how much it costs us, how much we think we want it, the benefit to ourselves and maybe our loved ones. I do not think we are encouraged to make decisions that weigh up the impact on the planet, the consequences for people we have never met (for example who made the product we’re considering buying, who live in the place we’re thinking of going to Etc). I don’t think that’s an inherent selfishness, I think we generally are not given good information to make informed decisions as to do so might put us off the consumerism that is needed to perpetuate a capitalist market. Even with increased information (eg fair trade logos) until our earliest learnings are outside of an individualised culture, people will still struggle to make decisions that honour our inter relatedness. For capitalism to work we have to be robbed of our connectedness, we lose our understanding that we are all just as important as one another, that no one is expendable. Most of us are not supported to challenge this system, so the decisions we make are usually rooted in concern for self and monetary value rather than wider consequences. I hear people deciding to speed in some areas because they've decided they're less likely to get caught there - so risk assessment is based on potential personal cost (to ego, money or personal freedom) rather than assessing cost to the environment, likelihood of hurting someone else etc. 

And I don’t deny it’s really tricky to weigh up so many aspects when there’s so much we don’t know. I believe we’re all doing the best we can- however we have been damaged by a culture that means our good thinking is clouded by an often unacknowledged bias towards money making, materialism and personal gain, that impacts unfavourably on some. 

I'm working towards a society where people and leaders weigh up risk and decisions based on how it will affect the most vulnerable, and consider wider and long term consequences.  Until then I will try to keep noticing how the decisions made by those with most power affect those with least. I will encourage people to keep figuring for themselves what is important and will challenge the assumptions that what is best for anyone is linked to their productivity, that instead we can choose to prioritize our mental health, our connectedness, and love - not money :-)

Learning new ways

For 46 years I have had ways of connecting people that I have tweaked over time but they have long served me well. In the last couple of months our situation has shifted and I am having to learn new ways whilst simultaneously grieving the loss of the old ways. Both learning and grieving are exhausting.(NB Grief is not a competition, yet I'm aware that many folk are grieving deeper losses and my noticings are not intended to belittle the magnitude of loss experienced globally as so many people have lost loved ones, or jobs and everything that goes alongside that.)

What I'm finding is that I'm having to adapt my standard ways of interacting which are very much based on proximity not distance. I don't just hug people (I'm so missing hugging people), I relish the power of touch and as you may recall from previous blogs, am intentional with touch - deliberate contact in the forms of a gentle arm squeeze, a hand on someone's shoulder, a specific loiter when accepting change. In a time of avoiding any contact whatsoever, I wonder how long it will be before I come into physical contact with friends, and if wariness of strangers touching will last for the rest of my lifetime?

Even at a distance, my go-to interactions are reduced. Time after time I automatically smile at folk and then realise that it can't be seen under my mask. If they were close (sigh) they'd see the crinkle round my eyes but from across the street there's no such clues and they pass without smiling back and we both are the poorer. If I know someone I can wave or holler but I don't feel able to do that to unknown people who would wonder who I was, half hidden already. Even with those I know it's tricky - conversing through a mask is just harder to project my voice so tone gets lost.

I'll persist and will find some new ways.

Let it begin with me

Victorious is not a word I think I ever use. I don’t think it’s a winning situation if there’s a victor. My response to marking 75 years since VE Day is to post a video of Edwin Starr‘s “War, what is it good for “ as I worry that in a time of crisis there might be an eagerness to find something to celebrate, and the temptation to focus on partisan sacrifice rather than acknowledge every loss of life, civilian and military, from whatever nation on whatever side. I can understand a celebration of a war coming to an end (tho for many it didn't). I cannot however go along with the idea of hailing a victory, or the nationalism that can come with applauding soldiers of a winning side.

I’m aware that this will not be a populist view. And I respect that others hold
very different beliefs from my own. That respect is probably an essential
 attribute in a pacifist, otherwise we’d be fighting all the time;)

I'm reminded of the song "let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me"
and am putting energy today into thinking how I can actively bring about peace.

Here it is if you'd like to sing along :-)

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=86_4BesaOVc&feature=youtu.be

Forgotten me not

Since going into lockdown (a couple of weeks before most people as my girly was not well) I have not had much time to reflect. Adjusting to a new way of working has taken a lot of energy. Who would ever have believed that I’d lead online tech training? Not me, that’s for sure. But these are strange times.
As well as the steep tech learning curve, there’s been the less unexpected response of looking for how I could apply my existing skills to help. My phone listening has come into its own and I am grateful for a local organization that were so speedy in setting me up as a telephone befriender. We all need each other more than ever before and I’m spending a hefty chunk of my day connecting - via text, messenger, and the new hot phenomenon that is zoom. I’m having to try really hard to ensure I give my eyes a bit of a screen break. In this I’ve had the revelation that my burgeoning garden can be a blessing not a curse. The incredible weather has encouraged me out into it more than ever before and instead of the weeding being a dreaded chore I am finding pleasure in being out amongst the blossom. The wilderness only appears overwhelming if I see it from that perspective and instead I’m choosing to enjoy the forget me nots as well as picking some for distribution amongst neighbours.
I think a lot of us are also exhausted by what has been termed "anticipatory grief", the emotions surrounding the insecurity of what we may still lose, on top of the people and plans we have already lost. 

Today I took out to the compost the fallen apart tulips my dad had sent. And yet even the dropped petals were beautiful. There really is still joy to be found in unlikely places. 

The fluttering tenner

Unexpected sunshine instead of the predicted continuation of the downpour that has been February, meant standing in the park suddenly became feasible. The annual giving-flowers-to-strangers day is a moveable feast, depending on when I have time to do it. I went prepared, taking a few already bloomed daffodils from my vase at home, which was good as the ones I then bought in the shop were tightly budded so less appealing.
I wasn't out long, only one person declining this year, and as usual, a fair bit of curiosity as to why I do it.

I thought I'd dropped a label that fluttered off in the wind so ran to retrieve it rather than cause litter, and would you believe it, it was actually a ten pound note. This presented a small quandry... Am I meant to go and buy a tenner's more daffodils? Give it to UNICEF (I'd posted earlier in the day about world hunger)? Would it be a bad use of police time to hand it in? Or do I just leave it for someone else to find?

This is exactly why I don't do the lottery, as winning would be way too much of a weighty dilemma as to how to distribute the windfall.

I'm sure I'll be presented with lots of opportunities to give it away :-)

2020

Do I make the cheesy reference to 2020 vision?
It's tempting, especially as I've ended the previous decade with a tricky yet delightful jigsaw given me as a Christmas present from my offspring. A happy memory of the three of us is the image of the 1000 piece puzzle, and each piece is pixellated rather than immediately obvious. The hours I've bent over it these past few days gave me time to reflect on the similarity to parenting, that it often seems unclear and hard to discern exactly what is what, but with much persistence the bigger picture emerges and there are moments of sensing achievement.
The last decade turned out a bit unexpectedly on many fronts and there have certainly been challenges, but I've met so many incredible, wonderful people on the way, so the facebook decade photo I just posted has me smiling at the start and end.