Naming the Game

Hello. Two days ago was sunny – one of the most fabulous and sunniest days that Glasgow has seen in a while. A fine day. A glorious day. A Good To Be Alive day. Even, maybe, a “Good To Be Me” day. My thoughts turned to blogging............... an’ I thought it wiz about time I admitted to still being here.

My energies of the last too many months have been somewhat channelled towards seeking employment – and over the last several weeks, devoted to assimilation of the new job requirements.

And are these demanding ? Thank you for asking. Demanding, yes – but not in the “saving lives in ITU” league – Thank Goodness. No one is likely to step prematurely into The Next Realm if I don’t do this job well enough. That Responsibility, Those Jobs are Now Done By Others. Thank Goodness.

I think I’m only just beginning to really recognize the cost involved in carrying such responsibility for so long. When I first took up the reins of the post I remember hoping that I’d recognize when the time arrived to move on.

I loved the people I cared for.......and yes, for me it was right to weep with those who wept and rejoice with those who rejoiced.........and, as a dedicated professional, I learnt to leave each bedside and go refreshed and new to the next, meeting each as an individual needing a unique and considered approach. I loved the staff I worked with........... well, most of them ........being human I met some I found difficult, and one in particular with whom I did not find a satisfying working relationship. This still imparts sadness.

I was totally committed to the requirements of the role. I hated the politics, and as I got older I began to struggle with the hours and energy which were consumed. I think I did recognize something of this – but I couldn’t see a way out.......... or a way forward.......... or sideways, or back, for that matter. It was going to be a difficult process, by whatever path..........

Thank you, BlogVisitor, for visiting, for being around, and sharing something of the rough and smooth of the path which has been involved. The blogging community have been so very supportive – especially over the long weeks and months of unemployment. I would never have expected such kindness and encouragement............. from generous folk from all over the world. Thank you. Thank you so much.

And now – where is ChickPea now ? Ah well, there’s a question............

Two day ago, several times, in fact, in my new administrative post, I was momentarily aware that I was in a good place - the ‘right’ place, and doing the ‘right’ thing............. And it felt Good To Be Alive.

The learning curve involved in the new job continues, and much of the time it still feels as if I am carrying a big pile of dinnerplates while running into the wind across a steep shingle beach with waves crashing and the tide coming in fast....... struggling to keep balance........ and not fall............struggling to keep going............. trying to make progress and gain distance – whilst the tide was getting ever closer..........

But maybe I can look at this differently.........the winds are blowing, yes, and with unpredictable gusts from most unexpected directions...........and tide and waves are close and closing............I guess there’s an element here of ‘storm’ and a disciple losing heart whilst Christ sleeps in the boat..........

A steep shingle beach is certainly not the easiest of surfaces to run across............... but maybe what’s actually happening is that I really am All At Sea - and learning to windsurf............. !

Aha – what would an analyst make of that, then, eh ? A very typical life experience, I guess, but somehow, when it’s the one you’re in yourself, it can be quite difficult stepping back far enough from the wood so that you can see the trees.......... and feel the sunshine on your face again.............

I’m sitting here with the Catlet resting on my left hip and reaching across the keys to both Help n Hinder.

He’s a Fine Fellow, this Bart. He doesn’t fill either of his predecessors’ shoes of course – my beloved white and tabby Judith was a most dedicated CompanionCat, and The PoppyCat too was One In A Million – like each and every one of us. Special, and unique, and totally irreplaceable. And every life has room for at least one more...........

Each day the young Bartholomew grows a bit more in size and stature, and finds new things – real or imaginary – to chase, or challenge, or ambush.........or to snuggle up to.............It may be tall, bipedal and bearing food............ or four legged, black and white, and with Big Teeth.............. BUT ...........Everything Is Fun..........Everything has the potential to Be Great..........and young Bart shows us, time and again, that if you approach it sideways......... and especially if you divert its attention and take charge of it almost Anything CAN be transformed............. ‘dull’ can become ‘shiny’.............. ‘boring’ can be realigned to be ‘exciting’.......... even just a leaf can be THE most EXCITING THING EVER.......... it just All Depends On HOW You Can Take It By Surprise.....

Perspective. Attitude. Imagination. Trust. Focus. Commitment. Enthusiasm. Love. Daring..............

Who would have thought that such a small Catlet-Kitten-Thing could show us so very much in so few weeks?

Maybe there’s more in young BartholoMew’s name than meets the eye, eh?

Ms Mog – R.I.P.

My beloved feline friend died this afternoon. She had lived with me and shared my life for longer than I lived with my own parents. Arriving in my flat as a tiny black kitten, just six weeks old, she could sit on my hand with all four feet and a tidily curled tail – and continued to try and do so for months after she outgrew my palm. She then became a rebellious teenager – and she withdrew bodily contact during daylight hours – objecting with tooth and claw if I transgressed her decision. But in the middle of the night, when her feet got cold, she would creep onto my bed and snuggle close. I had to wait until she was seven years old before she would again allow me to pick her up, or accept a cuddle.

She tolerated TH coming into our lives. He was allergic to cat fur in those days – not a promising start to our new relationship. He had never known any cats, admitted a certain dislike. Tolerance would be a positive achievement between them. But, astonishingly, over the intervening years he has developed tolerance to Ms Mog’s fur – though most other cats will still trigger an allergic reaction. And the initial ‘Tolerance’ became ‘Respect’, and then companionship.

Ms Mog loved moving to this house, with the garden. During the first week, we were breakfasting on the back lawn, and a streak of grey followed by black dashed past our feet – Ms Mog chasing the local squirrel as fast as she could, and faster than she believed possible – we both saw the look in her eyes that said “I hope I don’t catch up with it......”

Today is about three months short of her 20^th birthday – an astonishing lifetime, given that she had twice been rescued from The Brink – about eight years ago and again about four years later. She has been nearing this end point for more than long enough – but each time we asked her The Big Question, she smiled gently, and said “Ok, so I’m old, and a bit creaky, but I’m fine - where’s the food ?” She hated vets – with a pathological hatred which increased as she got older - and she made me promise four years ago that we would not push her on before she was ready to go – she was determined – so determined – to make that decision herself. I got home at lunchtime today, and she was clearly nearing The Time – we would have to Take Steps when TH got home with the car. But though now so drowsy, with her breathing getting irregular, she seemed very comfortable and settled on my lap – but getting colder - so we sat in her beloved conservatory in the sunshine. When this fantastic addition to our house was being built, Miss Mog would creep out every evening and inspect every detail of the day’s progress, and somehow made sure she marked her ownership of the enterprise by leaving her footprints for posterity in the concrete floor.

My wee feisty black feline always loved lying in the sun, and even though she was getting further from us, today was no exception. She relaxed in the sunshine, stretching gently...... and with a wee smile she gently slipped away before TH got home - she evaded The Vet just like she wanted.

Beloved pet. We have missed her so much as she has gradually withdrawn from our lives – she decided to be an Upstairs Cat about three years ago, demanding a waitress service for her meals, and waking us up for cuddles when she felt lonely in the wee sma’ hours. But frail though she had become, her voice was as insistent as ever when she decided it was her suppertime. She was still very much a part of the household, and her presence continually enriched our lives.

Now, at last, she rests in peace, and we must get used to the resultant emptiness.

Just a Moment........

What a moment that was for Mr Mutt yesterday. Pity it didn’t prevent the moment that happened later, when he tried to bite The Hand That Feeds Him. It was a very near miss – no blood flowed – but previous trust was shaken to the core, and all in all, a great disappointment overwhelmed us. We thought we were moving forward, but THAT moment raised the old spectres again.

Life is full of moments. And maybe, when we get to the end of it, we will look back and feel a whole lifetime is but A Moment. It only took a moment to sign up for the many who lost their lives in the world-and-subsequent-wars. And for those who Gave Most And Got Little Thanks. And but a Moment for a Life To Pass On.

This is Remembrance Day, and I am so sad that now so many of Those Who Survived have gone, NOW the media is screening so very very many programmes about the conflicts…old film footage……. insights and revelations of mishap and mayhem….…. So much that could have helped Those Who Have Now Gone to find a point of inner resolution, of personal forgiveness, of peace. So many must have been like my Dad, unable to speak of most of their experiences of The Conflict - perhaps fearful of recrimination or condemnation from the generation who followed who had so much in consequence, but understood so little – and who could understand even less when so much was contained, withheld, bottled up. And now it is too late to offer consolation, to offer Love and Understanding. But never too late to gain understanding...........

It was good to Share The Sacrament of Silence of those sacred minutes on Sunday. For A Sacrament Silence Is (or can be). Unnamed as such by The Church maybe, but Sacrament nonetheless. Good that the church now again accepts and embraces the mysticism and ‘magic’ of silence within liturgy. Our services had got very ‘busy’. In trying to be relevant to our daily lives, services not only reflected but became that very same busyness……. And forgot To Reflect. But now we are again given the sacraments of space and silence – and of Refection - and this is good.

ChickPea tried for those moments of silence again today – but as waiting for a jobseeking-related appointment kind of intervened, the moment passed. In her early schooldays she recalls that life would stop for those minutes – traffic would stop, radio would cease, a local bell - or a foghorn, or similar local loud noise – would signal start and finish of the Time for Silence. The Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month……….

Many moments have passed. Many more will happen – are happening even now. Good Things, Bad Things. Good – even Best of – Times, and Worst of Times. Some happen Somewhere Else. Some happen to us. Some we share. Some we will never ever be aware of, even when they happened right next to us or around us. Some Moments we have caused to happen, and some we did not prevent, or make recompense for…………Some Good Moments we withheld.

“Just a Moment” ChickPea’s Mum was reported to say, as she passed on. No warning. No time to say more. A while ago now, and many moments have happened along the way since then. Each precious. So precious. Most unmarked, unnoticed. Yet special, and very precious – especially those very mundane or ‘normal’ moments that allow us to breathe, relax, rest, recouperate. Sacredness of the Present Moment.

Take a Moment. Share a Moment. Give a Moment. Even "Just" a Moment. For you.

Led by the Spirit indeed......

ChickPea found another kindred spirit today….. well, ‘re-found’, ‘re-encountered’. (Amazing what you can find when/if you look, eh !) TWO posts on his blog since she’d last sought him – a wealth of words and heaps to consider, loads to want to answer. But a ‘learned reader’ she is not. How on earth to respond to the question, “Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit ?”……….. but even if his blog’s ‘comments’ seemed inadequate a forum for beginning to address this, would the question go away ? Indeed not………it fizzed and frothed in Chickpea's head........

So let’s see what we can find in ChickPea’s kitchen……..what insights can be found amongst the various ingredients, stirrings and splashes from today’s soufflé……..

Steven says, in his blog 'Searching for God', “The Holy Spirit. Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit? What does it feel like in the life of the Christian to first recognise the Spirit and then to respond in submission to it? I think I am familiar with the first issue. I know, I think, what it feels like to feel the Spirit move me. Sometimes, especially when faced with someone else's pain or poverty I feel a desire to do something. I feel not just compassion but a desire to turn the compassion into an action. For example, I was walking to the train station from work. A sad homeless man shuffled along in front of me. He was wearing an old suit and white trainers. His face was cut up. He was carrying a cup of coffee and stopped to pick up what appeared to be a small coin. I wanted to stop and take this man for a proper dinner, to feed him properly and make him feel like a human being. I also wanted to go home, get my own dinner and relax after a bruising day in court. What did I do? Well I ignored the Holy Spirit of course and justified it by saying I did not know if the man was drunk or sober. I know it brings to mind a middle-class slushy teenage sense of Christian ethics but it is perhaps helpful to ask, "What would Jesus do?"

Indeed. What WOULD Jesus do…….? I know what ChickPea has done on oh, so many occasions……. Exactly the same as you, Steven. Now, putting aside the “Jesus” question, which I think diverts us from the real issue here, and to which I think we may already know an accurate answer…….. IS this action given here a ‘non-response’ ? – or is it a response, indeed, of ‘ignoring the Holy Spirit’ ? …… or of ‘declining’…. ‘refusing’…… ?

“Should we always respond to the Holy Spirit ?”. Can we, indeed, NOT respond in some way, if we have been aware in the first instance ? My own thoughts are that we usually DO respond to things…… maybe not as we would like to, however. We may ignore, or refuse, or only partially respond as we feel called to respond. Sometimes we are just not up to the task, nor ready to seek the strength to enable us to respond in such a way. Maybe it will cost us too much…….. the money, the energy, the time, the love that we just do not feel capable of giving. It may be a cop out, but I consider all of these as parts of ‘the human condition’, part of being a son or daughter of ‘Adam’ and the inheritance of ‘sin’ which comes along with this package, and which is intrinsic to my very cellular composition……

Hence my need for redemption, for being saved from being the ‘less-than-ideal’ me, and transformed, through the Love of God and the example as well as the sacrifice of Christ, into ‘The-Me-That-I-Was-Created-To-Be’……… the Me that will be so much more than I can ever be on my own, and that will be so very MUCH ‘Me’………. Not ‘someone else’ – but Me.

And maybe, just maybe, trying to respond positively to the Holy Spirit in the opportunities that arise along the way will gradually assist and effect the personal growth, that transformation, that Can Be. That the original ‘Redemption’ has made possible. That is always there, awaiting the positive response. That with love – the Love of God – the Love of Others – even my own feeble and faltering Love that allows me to try and respond of a time – Can Achieve the unbelievable.

Well ? Well ?!! Don’t just sit there ! Hide if you must – but what do YOU think ?

PS. Call round to Steven's blog here : http://stevenmcquitty.blogspot.com/

Reality Shows

What’s this ? Is ChickPea a closet ‘Big Brother’ fan ? Or is she trying to ‘Look Good Naked’ ?

Ha ! – NO !!!!!!

She considers such so-called ‘Reality Shows’ something of a poser. These facile TV programmes seem to show the viewer everything except ‘reality’ – ok, it may be happening ‘now’, maybe even in ‘real time’ - but is so unbelievably contrived that ‘REAL’ is hardly an appropriate description………Unreal maybe…..

No. ChickPea has Something Else in mind. She’s thinking that ‘reality’ shows in so very many ways ….. not just the hard things we all meet in our lives (usually when we’d rather not….), but the kind words, thoughtful gestures, affirming embrace that so unexpectedly manifest……. all of which demonstrate something ‘Real’ about the interaction, the friendship…… something honest……… something true…… something Loving…….. and Lovely.

And, somehow, ‘Real’ will always get through, come to light, be seen…….. ‘show’.

And that, is good. Even five days later, despite all the fog of intervening Life, that is very, VERY good.

And THAT is what we met last Sunday when +Gene visited S Mary’s to both Celebrate The Mystery of Christ (and Christianity) and to preach The Word (and this latter so very firmly based upon the words of the day’s readings of the lectionary).

Both the Eucharist and the sermon were so, SO ‘Real’.

If anyone there had previously doubted the true Reality of the man – let alone of the bishop – meeting +Gene that day, hearing him speaking from the depths of his faith, experience and insight, seeing his pastoral care and concern for several beloved who spoke with him ….. any Such a person, like Thomas touching the nail prints, would have Seen, And Believed……..

And, astonishingly, this particular incident of Reality certainly seems to me to transcend the limitations of recording. (Unlike ‘Big Bro’).

See For Yourself at http://thecathedral.org.uk (on 'Home Page' select 'Spirituality' and 'Preaching') or through the haze from the incense of http://thurible.net

"Socks.......... JUST what I always wanted......."

By the time you get to read this, TH will have Reached His Annual Auspicious Day. This year, ChickPea had Time To Prepare. Before the Partnership Blessing on Saturday, she dashed off into town to get TH a present. And what…. ?

Well, of course, there IS only one possible answer. What does the Man Who Has Everything always need ?

EXACTLY. Socks. So that’s what she got.

Now, for some obscure reason, TH does not much like getting socks. Through the years, ChickPea has given him cheap socks, good socks, silly socks, fancy socks, warm socks, Cool sox, Very Silly socks and Unbelievably Expensive socks – and his response is usually much the same……

So……..

She got him a book as well (about a puppy – aaaaaaaahhhhhh...)

TH never seems to read the books ChickPea buys for him. But he loves reading books……… (other books)……… So – she got him a book as well.

Happy Birthday, TH !

(Now…… how long d’you suppose it took before TH looked inside the front cover of the book, read the wee ‘post-it’ note, turned this over as directed to read the back of the ‘post-it’ note, and discovered there was another parcel hidden in the top cupboard downstairs……….. ?
(a) less than 0.03 seconds; (b) 0.03 seconds; (c) more than 3 minutes (plus prompting…..)

So - Now, at last, Him’n’Her can both play the Wii that TH bought (them) for ChickPea’s Unofficial Birthday a few months back ! ! )

Whistle, and the surplices come running........

There was a partnership blessing today, so the choir were being prised out of their Summer Cupboard, dust and mothballs shaken off, ready to wheel out for the occasion – the cassocks stood to attention, and when ChickPea whistled, the surplices all came running…….. then the singers arrived 10 minutes later…….

And all went well, all was well (apart from the organ sypher during the prayers), and the sun shone on the Happy Couple. Long may Happiness embrace them.

Tonight, TH is away singing in Strathallan.

While TH Cat is Away, Mouse Will Out To Play – yes – don’t tell ! - ChickPea’s having a fling !

Well…. several flings………. with Wally Washingmachine, Herbie Hanger, and Ivor Iron for starters, with C.Rumple and C.Rease muscling in on the action too… (oh dear - she’s evidently got to that age……)

Meantime, Mr Mutt yawns, looks bored and waits patiently for his late night stroll…….

Responding

After Mr Mutt’s Morning Constitutional, ChickPea was not managing to settle to anything/much/useful. Swimming around the blogosphere was The Temptation That Prevailed. Along the way she stumbled into a few new sites and interchanges which brightened this particular cloudy day.

One of her first calls was to drop in on a listed ‘favourite’ for a chuckle courtesy of Mr Rowan Atkinson. Ah yes – guess the trigger ! - The Lambeth Conference continues to cause ripples way beyond the tents of Canterbury (What a place that must be just now !). Anyhow…….. suffice to say that ChickPea found herself deeply focussed on A Response. A Comment even. The grey and white tangled bundles of neurones quivered with surprise ….. electricity hummed…… fingers twitched……. Keyboard clunked……… and The Result ? -

“Thank God for humour. Sadly I can think of no incontrovertible humour in the gospels, which would utterly reassure us of Christ's full humanity. But I doubt the crowds would've been interested if there was no laughter in Those eyes. I suspect He Himself would be at the front of the crowd with much of today's humour - laughing out loud - and rather than squandering precious time, energy and resources on conferences, would still be found in the street with aids victims, prostitutes, and our usual outcasts. I have a sneaking suspicion that He would embrace honest members of the gay fraternity, and support genuine love - wherever found - with joy”.

Yes, I think that’s what ChickPea both intended and managed to say. She has a number of gay friends – I hope they are happy to be called ‘friends’ rather than ‘acquaintances’ – and is gradually reaching a strong belief that Christ Himself would probably NOT be jumping up and down on a soapbox condemning those who find that Their Best Partner has to be of the Same Sex. Some of my best friends are of my (ie.same) sex. My Beloved Partner is of the Other Sex. Some of my other best friends are of the Other Sex, too, and some feel Physical Attraction to that one, and not my one.

As with Any Physical Attraction, some respond, some don’t. Sometimes you want to, are able to, and do. Sometimes you want to, but choose not to. Doesn’t change your fundamental orientation, nor your God-given wish to share love (in one of Love’s many manifestations).

So what of ‘orientaton’? Does this determine everything about the person ? Is someone any less ‘my friend’ because of it ? Or any less ‘God’s friend’ because of it ? Did he/she choose to be homosexual ? It seems not. Was he/she Created Thus ? It seems so.

Is God cruel – creating beings He will not recognize, will not love ? I THINK NOT.

In fact, it increasingly seems to me that Christ as portrayed would love these same folk as much as He (probably sighs and ) loves those who rant against them. Do Those Who Rant Against ‘The Gay Church’ actually bother to consider they may be ranting Against The Almighty ? – that God may perhaps be even greater than the limits of the Old Testament writings (and maybe even those of The New), and be hoping that we might bother to use our God-given, potentially Holy, Common Sense, Intuition and Understanding in this and other matters which confront us ?

Ah, Great God – how we do complicate things……..

Later on, (still swimming in the blogosphere – don’t tell TH….), ChickPea visited + Gene’s blog (and managed to add this link on the right). If you’ve been noticing any of the media’s machinations about Lambeth recently, you will have heard stuff about this guy, and maybe wondered what sort of a monster he is. So, Thank You Gene for your blog, allowing us to hear your own thoughts directly. He reckons that “ the business of loving the world that God has made, and every person in it, is messy and difficult.” How right he is. ChickPea is looking forward to hearing his voice in person when he preaches at S Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral in Glasgow this Sunday.