Reflexivity

 I’ve long used writing as a means of processing. Under my bed is a stash of diaries in which I journaled all kinds of thoughts as a teenager, filling an entire page each night with my insecurities as well as how many choc ices I’d consumed that day. Some days I would write words in two different pens to produce a beautiful two-tone image, delighting in my creativity that I was clear was for my eyes only. I stopped when at aged 18 I was in a shared house and someone took the diary to read, and so pouring my heart out onto paper no longer felt safe.

Fast forward a couple of decades and instead of pens and paper and pseudo-privacy, there is an option to press a publish button and unleash your contemplations on the wide world. And so I started a blog. 

Ten years ago today I was in some ways in a good place despite still grieving the end of my marriage. I’d recently met Ben for the first time, tho we’d yet to start going out. I had supportive friends. I enjoyed my three very part time jobs. But still I noticed an absence of adult company, as a single parent of two children aged 6 and 9. It’s interesting to look at the varying frequency of my entries, starting fairly intermittently, then reaching a couple of years where I blogged sometimes twice a day. Now that I have lots of interaction with adults (my offspring included) there’s much less need for a space to craft and share opinions. There are still occasions where I want an outlet to express something longer than can be posted in a Facebook status, but these are now few and far between. 

A few remain as drafts, from times where I’ve needed to vent but realised that to share publicly would not be wise. Those that are published vary from tedious renditions of dull days, to upbeat messages that I feel proud of having written. Like the teenage diaries, I’m pleased to have preserved some thoughts that no doubt my memory would otherwise have let slip away. Some have caused contention but mainly they have had minimal impact on the world, a very small audience and a rare comment - and that’s fine by me. My purpose is not to attract ‘followers’ but to channel some of my thinking in a way that’s productive for me rather than have the words circling in my head. It’s been a good way of letting some friends know how I’m doing and I’m especially grateful for those who check in with me having read what I have shared.
Maybe one day I’ll even shift it from my ancient tablet onto a device where I can easily include photos :)

Unexpected decade

 Ten years ago I was invited to a birthday party where I met someone and talked about God, which didn’t usually happen to me at parties. Usually people I met at events talked to me about breastfeeding once they asked what I did for work. I’ve not been to many parties since I started working for the church so maybe now people would talk about God instead? Anyway back then it was unusual and a delight. I didn’t feel ready to start a new relationship as I was clear I was still grieving the end of my marriage, but Ben understood my need to grieve and yet also enabled me to live and love in the present. I figured that I didn’t have to have confidence in the future, what was important was the present, and ten years of living pretty presently has brought many gifts. I’ve learned a lot about love (and a fair bit about war, given his WW1 passion). I have plumbed surprising depths of commitment, rejoiced in his generosity, eaten well, and had a lot of fun along the way. We’ve been through various losses together - family, work, health - with a lot of learning about ourselves and each other, the class dynamics and how our early experiences still shape our current ways of being. Of course, any relationship has its challenges, that's what happens when you are real with one another. I'm glad to have opportunities to be real with people!

This last year, in lockdown, we've spent a lot of time together in particular, and I've been grateful for that. Its been an unexpected decade with much to celebrate.

Trigger warning - Mary and Eve

 It's been a tough week. I don't know why I'm surprised really. Every week women die at the hands of violent men. (Men also die at the hands of violent men, and occasionally people die due to women's violence. Every death and attack is horrific). Last year there were 62,200 reported rapes in the UK ( happening to women and men, by men). That is a staggeringly high number. For those involved it is their following days and years that will be incredibly tough.

I think the way the week unfolded has made it particularly hard, bookended by days in which women were celebrated (International women's day on Monday, Mothering Sunday today). In between my media pages were filled with varying degrees of sexism (in some cases compounded by racism and transphobia). This included refusal to believe the experiences of a high profile woman; a murder of a woman who was walking home; the anniversary of a woman murdered in her home during a police raid; many many women sharing their experiences of assault, some sharing for the first time and a backlash from many men unable to hear the pain without immediately wanting to point out that not all men are bad. 

Of course not all men are bad. I'm glad to know many good hearted men, those who not only would never attack a woman, but are also doing their best to figure out what they need to do to challenge the sexism, and to do what they can to reduce the intimidation felt. There have been some good allies this week, tho at times they have felt few and far between.

I also understand the pull to defend. Everytime I hear someone say that they were around a Christian who oppressed them, I want to shout "we don't all believe that! I'm not like that!" And I've slowly learned that actually it's not about me. Maybe if I can build a good enough relationship, the person will get to see that I'm not like that. But that will only come if I first sit with my discomfort that someone like me has caused pain. And to hear how upsetting that was. To acknowledge the truth of the person's experience, rather than rush in and diminish what they are trying to express.

As soon as we get defensive, we're not listening so well. It's bloody hard. I've felt defensive a fair bit myself this week. I can see why it's difficult to make progress and to keep at it together instead of get divided off from one another.

And the contrast isn't new either. For centuries there's been the saint/sinner extreme of worshipping the mother of God or blaming everything/the fall on one woman. So to be praised on Monday and trashed by Tuesday should not be unexpected. But it certainly should be challenged.

Friday fix

 Today I am overtired after a really intense working week. I really love the supervision training we were delivering but it's been very full on. I knew I'd need to go gently today.

I am signed up to this blog which every Friday introduces a song through the lens of faith, and I often enjoy it (I've only managed to contribute once, I must get around to writing again). Today's made me laugh out loud, I love the line about top level delegation and can relate to the amazement that God entrusts us to do the loving. And I also cried, as I'm overtired and it's that kind of day.

https://thefridayfix.home.blog/2021/02/19/how-long-will-i-love-you-the-waterboys/

Seeing new things

 Do you ever have a line jump out at you in a book?

Once I had read this, I couldn't carry on reading my book*, I had to ponder it. "We need a new way of seeing more than we need to see new things and places." I probably don't need to explain why this resonated, but in case anyone is reading this post-pandemic (surely such a time will come), let me unpack it a little.

Current regulations mean we can't drive anywhere to exercise, so I'm regularly undertaking my favourite local walk. This could potentially be tedious, I tend to thrive on novelty rather than routine, I'm the kind of person who chooses a different way home from a place rather than stick to the same route. However, an advantage of repeating the same path is that little differences become more noticeable. I celebrated when I spotted the snowdrops peeking through when a few days before they were not to be seen. Last week, when suddenly realising that I was striding as if on a mission to get the walk over with as soon as possible, I slowed down and instantly became aware of the birds who had been singing all along, I just hadn't opened my ears to them.

So whilst I might think I crave a new place, what I have is the option to see anew. Having worked from home for nearly a year now, I've been seeing rather a lot of the same four walls. But lying in the bath after the sentence leapt out, I gazed as if for the first time at the grouting. One of the appeals of being around children is the way they delight in the things we older ones have maybe become jaded around. How great it is to marvel anew at what we take for granted. 

I know lockdown is dragging on. I too am keen to see those I've not been around in such a long time. I even long for the beach and I'm not a beach person. But I also think we can wonder awhile and reopen our eyes to what is right in front of us.

*I'm reading The Call: Discovering why you are here, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

That's my fun day

 How are you coping with what is getting close to a year in lockdown? ( I know we had august out and about, but that was pretty much it as the North west rates were then bad so we then were back inside). I've found myself more routinised than I usually live my life. Weekends used to vary, maybe I'd be working or have an action packed social calendar, and once a month I'd be in Dufton. Now we can't even drive for a different walk, I am of course, pretty much always home. Thankfully for me home is a happy place, I know some folk are really struggling. 

Saturday is guinea pig cleaning out day. (Is it wrong that this is one of my least favourite aspects of my girly not being here, along with the hugs... We still have great conversations by video call but I have to do everything for those guineas).

Sunday has downtime for a jigsaw or a film, there's a church coffee social and a District evening service (which I enjoy except for the weeks I'm tech hosting), my weekly chat with my boy as I take him to his dad's, and then before an early night I read something uplifting in a bubbly bath. It's a real joy that sets me up well for the vast amount of screen time in the rest of the week.

What have you found to keep your spirits up? I like to initiate some surprises that will cascade into the week. Postcards / gifts that vary in time to deliver, so I get texts throughout the week from the recipients. (I don't send them in order to get texts you understand, but it's a frequent happy by product). I've communicated with people in other ways this weekend that have been more immediate so will miss that excitement that comes with wondering when someone will get their surprise. But the good news is it's daffodil season, so at my next big shop I'll be buying lots of bunches to then take out on my exercise walks. Sorry if you don't live near enough...