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...

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.