Sharing Silence

There are such treasures out there!  Here's another wonderful resource for anybody who's pondering whether to take the plunge into silence: Chris of this fragile tent's reflections on a recent 8 Day retreat at St Beunos Spirituality Centre.

If God is the "Real Director," Why do We Need a Human One?

Anonymous - Thanks for your challenging question. I've posted it here as I thought the topic merited a post of its own.

Before  Mr GP  set out to "shadow" the Tour de France riders, he booked some sessions with a coach. The coach didn't ride the route for him, nor tell him what to do ; but worked together with him providing   regular encouragement, companionship, accountability and above all, a space where he could best prepare himself physically and mentally, for whatever challenges awaited.  Thus maximising the chances that Dear Spouse would be able to safely  work within his capabilities, interpret the prevailing conditions as accurately as possible, and live his experiences to the full. 

If Dear Spouse had just  read a few cycling books, thrown a map and puncture repair kit in his panniers and set off -   the experience might have been at least, less fulfilling and at worst, downright dangerous. Good intentions are no substitute for  taking  responsibility for one's own safety and well-being.

A soul friend/spiritual companion/director likewise doesn't "tell you what to do,"  solve all your problems, travel  your journey for you or tell you what they "think" God is saying. Their role is more to provide a regular, objective, intentional space where you can begin to sense   these "nudges" of the Holy Spirit for yourself.  It's not always easy.  I know I often see what I want to see, hear what I want to hear;  my human frailties distort my  ability to discern   what God might be trying to say to me.  Dear knows, we don't have to look far to see what tragedies result when people have used "The Word of God" to justify their own agendas. 

Think of a director as an extra pair of ears, there to listen with us  at those times when our own shell-likes may be in need of a syringe.  

 Christ sent  the disciples out  in pairs, remember!

Hope that helps.

Spiritual Underpinnings - Spiritual Direction

(Incubated during the recent  snowy spell). Warning, long post.

Spiritual Underpinnings: Spiritual Direction

Well, the North Wind doth blow and if we believe everything the weather forecasters say, I should have plenty time for writing over the next few days. So, here’s the beginning of   a mini-project that’s been at the back of in my mind ever since reading Robin’s blog on Finding  a Spiritual Director and more recently, ramtoprac’s accounts of their searchings.

If you’ve read my Offline Greenpatches page,  you’ll have realized that I was once  very  into using "spiritual underpinnings" as an analogy to describe the various  support systems that I was setting up at the time. Re-reading that now, I’m wondering if   the “undies” “secret support” term is wearing a little thin (if you’ll pardon the pun!); because such a valuable resource should be anything but “secret.” I think we’ve come a long way since spiritual direction – (or accompaniment as I prefer to call it), was the sole province of clergy and religious. If you discover treasure, surely you’re going to want to let everybody know about your discovery. (Now where did I first hear that one, I wonder?)

So, to my journeyings.  In retrospect, even if I wasn’t aware of it at the time, my hunt for   a director began long before the birds ‘flew the nest,’ back, in fact, to when we moved back to the UK after seven years  abroad. By the time I began to articulate this need, at first only to myself, we’d passed the Millennium.   I was trying to cope with two teens, a husband constantly away with work and all that that brings, but more worryingly, a sense that the church into which I’d thrown myself so enthusiastically to begin with did not - to put it crudely  - “scratch where I itched.” 

I remember the first time I came encountered  the concept of a paradigm shift; well, underneath my seemingly compliant surface, you could almost hear the gears grinding away. My “integrity gap” I called it, even as I tried to throw myself into the seemingly endless round of programs and rotas, giving assent to a theology and practice, which was becomingly increasingly at odds with where I was on my journey.  I was asking questions (only to myself then, I was far too shy to voice them aloud!) that weren’t being answered. Though a glance back through my journals from that time shows the clues were all there.  Put even more crudely – I was bl**dy lonely – a quiet and increasingly questioning contemplative flower in an increasingly charismatic evangelical garden. There were some great people in that community, make no mistake, but the church, too was struggling with change, going through it’s own ‘spiritual adolescence,’ and when you have two adolescents  - well, there are  bound to be spats! 

By late 2002 I’d emerged from a bout of counseling, following on from the death of my father. This had given me the confidence to get out there and explore. I’d been aware of the existence of spiritual accompaniment for a while.  I’d also -  joy of joys -  discovered a lifeline,  that “Magazine of Unrest,” Shipoffools.com whose denizens were just one of several sources of encouragement to step out. 

 My director came via some suggestions from what I nicknamed our local “diocesan chappie” and what he called his   “spiritual direction dating agency.”  Best practice encourages shopping around; discerning who is the best “fit” for you is not something to be approached lightly.   I was given several names but for all sorts of reasons, my first try ‘stuck,’ and we’ve been meeting now for over 10 years.  I’d not stated any preference for either clergy, lay or religious though I think I did tick the “Female” box, but I ended up with somebody ordained.  What was more helpful, especially at first, were  those things we held in common:  she has children of about the same age, and knew just what it was like to be rushed off one’s feet and to  struggle with the demands of family life.  Some of the stuff out there on t’interweb about directors would have you believe you’re about to link up with a spiritual Yoda. Or worse, the Spanish Inquisition. Talk about ‘Disease of the Oughteries!’ Both notions were swiftly dispelled. One of my favourite memories, related since with glee to several hesitant seekers, is about one early meeting when I had to clear the family’s washing off the sofa before I could sit down. (To be fair, there were building works going on at the time). I have never been so relieved in my life. At last… a ‘real’ person, not some super-being intent on force- feeding me a diet of never-ending spiritual sticking plaster or theological bon mots.

Since then they’ve supported me unobtrusively through a change of church, theological study, my journey into the Franciscan Third Order and many other ups and downs too numerous to list, as I’ve emerged out of the other side of the child-rearing years and started to look to what the future might hold.  Her style tends to the non-directive – a sometime puzzle to me at first: they do say God sends you   what you need, not necessarily what you want! With my background and hang-ups I could easily have slipped into the habit of letting somebody else “tell me what to do,” which of course is not a stance that any listener should ever encourage, not in that sense.  God is the real ‘director’  after all.

Over the years, the task of listening to my (rather circuitous meanderings) has also been shared by numerous retreat conductors, course facilitators and others. Some I’ve taken to, others less so, yet experiencing a different dynamic has been interesting and I can truthfully say that I’ve always come out the other end having learned something.  I hope I’ve changed…

Talking of circuitous meanderings, I’ll wind up the waffle by revisiting and reanswering two questions once asked me on a radio interview which highlight the benefits of spiritual accompaniment for me personally:

Firstly: “How has direction helped keep you spiritually and mentally well?” Foremost it’s enabled me to rethink for myself those images of God that for all kinds of reasons, baggage carried since childhood etc, were not so healthy. This was, and is a slooowwww process.  Yet I’ve come such a long way. Work-in-progress.

Secondly: In what ways have you experienced God…noticed…become more aware of God since you’ve been in direction?” 

I’m much more open to seeing God in all things . Years ago, I was over  concerned with chasing after the “zap…pow!” big, flashy  experiences. Now I’m far more aware of the “still small voice,” what he/she’s doing in the little things of life, the ordinary, everyday events. Well, on good days anyway…

So, if you’re somebody umming and aahing about whether to send that email, make that phone call or simply begin to take the first step along this path, do be brave, and, as Robin of Beautiful and Terrible said recently “Just do it.”

On My Bookshelves - Quiet - The Power of Introverts

...in a World That Can't Stop Talking. I've  been extolling the virtues of  Susan Cain's   bestseller to our son. This call for recognition of the underestimated and most definitely undervalued power of the introvert in modern day society certainly speaks to me, even if, like one of Amazon reviewers,  I'd rate her wonderful TED talk as more immediately accessible. (I remember blogging at the time that I wanted to stand up and cheer!).  I'd also question whether the statistics and situations  quoted are quite as relevant in the UK, where I suspect we figure rather more heavily on the Introvert scale. I can remember thinking this too about some references in Adam McHugh's research on Introversion in the church. Maybe I've not attended the 'right' churches but  from what I've experienced so far, I'd hazard that introverts are quite highly represented in UK church communities. Though I'll admit that Susan's account of her visit to Saddleback Church together with McHugh had me smiling and shuddering in equal measure. Just reading it made me want to run for the hills.  A weekly attendance of 20,000 people? That'd be like taking part in  a Greenbelt Festival Communion every Sunday.  Just imagine that. No, don't. Aaagh!

Obviously the constant references to American corporate culture aren't ones that would resonate with me hence  I'm not finding the book the easiest of reads so far. Nevertheless, it has some gems in there and provided I can keep on transcending the difficulties, I'm sure I'll find the effort well worth it. It's heartening to learn that civil rights protester Rosa Parks was introvert -  described in her obituaries as being "timid and shy," yet with "the courage of a lion." She possessed "radical humility" and "quiet fortitude." Or to read  of a high-flying tax lawyer's struggles with speaking extemporaneously; one of my constant bugbears. There is hope...

I have Two Goats

on my reading list, I've realised: occasional reflections from  Franciscan, Good Goat and more recently, through Vicki's blog party - One Old Goat, the latter with sad news today.

Another party-goer, who made me nearly spit my drink out all over the keyboard with her last blog - My Next 20 Years of Living.

A warm welcome to all of you.

So - one with the day, and yes - you've guessed it - I think I can-I think I can- I think I can - I think I can...

Earworms and Latin Verbs

Late night playing about with words (as you do...):

Confidence - Definition

Noun

The feeling or belief that one can rely on someone or something; firm trust: "we had every confidence in the staff". The state of feeling certain about the truth of something.

Synonyms

trust - faith - reliance - belief - credit - credence

Confidere - to trust

et le voila - I Have Confidence!   or - put another way - Don't Panic! 

Travelling Hopefully

                                                           Intercity Ad, 'Lazy,' 1987

zzzzzzzzzz.  Coming up for air in a week where most of my time seems to  have been spent listening to "The train now arriving at Platform 4 is the ..." I've worked out that by the end of the week I'll have let the train take the strain on five days out of seven. All my trains seem to have arrived at once - or in the case of Monday evening were cancelled simultaneously as signalling problems brought the network to a juddering halt. (I arrived at Paddington at 5 pm - reached home at 8 pm!). Happiness is, however, standing in the wobbly concertinery bit between carriages with the other sardines when you remember you still have a Shapers chocolate bar and a smoothie in your bag, left over from lunch. Have rations, will travel! I sent up thanks that I don't have to manage this commute every day and spent (or tried to spend) the remainder of the time musing on the events of the day: snow, labyrinths and all. (First prize for initiative goes to the chap who visited the loo as we left Paddington and remained there almost the entire journey. At least he was guaranteed a seat.)

Then back down the line next day to Portsmouth - "land of seabirds and brisk, sea breezes." Bracingly brisk sea breezes I discovered. They'd not had much snow at all, but the wind, the wind...!  I'm currently  spending time with the gospel passage where Jesus calls Peter to walk to him on the water. What an ideal opportunity to really put myself into the account ; all I needed to do was stand there on the marina and let the wind and rain do their worst. I'm sure you'll not be the least bit surprised to learn that I chickened out. Self preservation and the prospect of warmth, comfort and a steaming hot cup of tea kicked in. Sometimes one can take this imaginative contemplation lark too far!

Today's journey back, well, not quite like the old Intercity Ad, but I was travelling at a quiet time of day and was able to sit back, doze, reflect and enjoy the magical  landscape as the train sped through the snowy countryside.

A couple of shorter trips before the week ends with less likelihood of disruption.  As long as I remember where I'm going. If you should see a lady of mature years standing, wild-eyed by an indicator board wondering whether she should be heading  towards Basingstoke, Reading, Guildford or Paddington today, do say hello.