The Art of Stillness

I've just finished a six week contemplative photography course mentioned in my last post.
In a nice synchronicity I have also just finished reading a small book -

- which includes wonderful photos by an Icelandic/Canadian photographer Eydis S. Luna Einarsdottir. (Glad I don't have to pronounce her name!) In her Artist's statement at the end of the book she writes:
"As soon as I take out my camera I find that stillness within, that deep sense of peace that I crave every day. I get lost in such a beautiful way that it's hard to describe; it's as though I find a piece of me that I had lost without really knowing that I had lost it. As I sit quietly looking through the viewfinder, my senses become heightened. The smell of the earth makes me feel grounded; the sound of the waves crashing or grass rustling in the wind or the bleating of a lone sheep in the distance makes me feel so alive; and the vastness of what I see makes me feel expansive. This is what it is like to be in the Now, which is really just to be still in mind and body. My photographs come from a place of emotion. They are not an attempt to capture the perfect image, but to capture the feeling I experience as I witness the things in front of me."

Pico Iyer has a TED talk and has written books about his travels but in this book he explores the very different benefits of going nowhere! I recommend him as a person worth listening to. This is a deceptively small and simple book and the photos match that. I'm really Blogging about it primarily because of that wonderful quoted piece from the photographer. She certainly expresses what Seeing with the Eyes of the Heart is about.

The beauty of brown

I'm doing an online contemplative photography course at the moment. It is based on this book:

An interesting exercise recently was to choose a colour and follow it through the week, seeing where it showed up and what it revealed. I instinctively thought "brown" but then dismissed that as "boring". However, as I went for my contemplative walk brown kept showing up! I saw it everywhere. I tried to imagine what the environment would look like without brown. It was very difficult to do! All week I saw more and more of the beauty and essential place of brown. Here are a couple of collages:

Towards the end of the week we were invited to write words that expressed this colour. I wrote:

Brown is an unobtrusive colour 

quietly holding its place

to nurture growth

protect the vulnerable

support the weary

build strong boundaries

and be its beautiful many-hued self!

What would we do without bridges?

I've got a 'thing' about bridges at the moment! Maybe it's triggered by the photo for this month on the calendar I make each year from my own photos:

Lake Tekapo

But I think bridges are even more in my awareness because of the number of bridges I walk or drive over almost every day. The following photos were taken over the last couple of days on walks no longer than half an hour from home .

Without these bridges my life would be much more limited. Some places would be hard to get to; some of my walks would be curtailed; some beautiful locations could only be seen from "the other side of the river" ...

So I've been thinking, how might I be a bridge? Or perhaps sometimes I am without even knowing it. Maybe you are too. For example: A bridge between two sides of an argument, a bridge to connect two people who  haven't met, a bridge from one point of view to a broader perspective, a bridge that will hold someone as they cross an emotional chasm, a bridge to make a long journey shorter and easier...

I appreciate people who have been 'bridges' for me over the years and I hope that I have been, and will continue to be, a bridge for others. 

Exploring Haiku

I'm currently participating in an Exploring Haiku course from the Gratefulness site.
I'll note here the insights gained and the Haiku I wrote.

Day 1 we were asked to choose a Haiku that someone else had written and comment on why.

The lake is lost 

in the rain which is lost 

in the lake

- Brother David Steindl-Rast

I loved this mysterious circle of one-ness.

Day 2: "Write a Haiku of an immediate experience. Remember that the strict 5-7-5 syllable format is not essential. It is the spirit of capturing a moment in a single brief expression that counts.

The sun gently filters

through the closed curtains.

Fling them wide

-Sheila

Day 3: "Haiku is all about the fleeting preciousness of experience, nature and our seamless connection to everything."  -Tom Clausen

Sparkling calm water

pounding surf breaking so roughly

it's all one ocean.

-Sheila

This physical reality parallels my life experience right now.

Day 4: Haiku capturing a peak experience when the 'self' was somehow lost in the moment.

Grassy green glade

solitary child entranced

with overflowing fulness

-Sheila

This is a memory of my childhood summers on Ponui Island. 'The glade' was a special place I often sat alone. I can still 'feel' the wonder as I recall it.

Day 5: Today be childlike and playful and write from that space.

Benjy was the name

of my Teddy and sometimes

I still miss him!

-Sheila

Day 6: In his book, A Listening Heart: The Spirituality of Sacred Sensuousness, Br. David Steindl-Rast writes:

The Haiku is, paradoxically, a poem about silence. Its very core is silence. There is probably no shorter poetic form in world literature than the classical Haiku with its seventeen syllables and, yet. The masters put these seventeen syllables down with a gesture of apology, which makes it clear that the words merely serve the silence. All that matters is the silence. The Haiku is a scaffold of words; what is being constructed is a poem of silence; and when it is ready, the poet gives a little kick, as it were, to the scaffold. It tumbles, and silence alone stands.

The deep blue sky

just is...

No need for proclamation.

-Sheila

Day 7: In a brief description of haiku, Br. David Steindl-Rast writes, “The best among them capture a moment of intense awareness; they awake your senses. No comment by the poet; simply one given moment which is fully – and thus gratefully – perceived.”

The welcoming Easter moon

surprised me in the 

duck egg sky.

-Sheila

Day 8: Br. David Steindl-Rast writes: “the one basic condition of the human psyche that accounts for genuine happiness is living in the now.” Haiku is a wonderful way of doing just that. On this last day of the exploring Haiku course we are encouraged to write a Haiku a day.

Today - Good Friday

Sun peeps through the clouds.

Appropriate.

-Sheila

The problem with "us/not us" thinking

In the wake of the atrocious terrorist attack on two Mosques in Christchurch yesterday it is understandable that we all try to find words to express our horror and grief. But I do think there are dangers in being quick to talk in us/not us terms. As Dr Paul Buchanan helpfully pointed out in a TV 1 interview, these kinds of attacks are motivated by fear of the other.  So as soon as we are quick to label some people as "us" and others as "not us" we can unwittingly generate exactly the same "fear of the other". It's just a different "other" this time. Of course it is true than in general New Zealand and the majority of New Zealanders are welcoming and accepting of different ethnicities and religions. So to say "This is not who we are" may be a helpful reminder and rallying cry. But it is a short step from there to divide people into the "us" and "not us" categories. Hard as it is to admit, there are in NZ, many people who fear and (therefore hate and attack) various groups as "other" than themselves. Think of gang violence for instance. These people are part of the corporate "us" of NZ. Of course that doesn't mean we condone or in any way support their actions. We automatically put ourselves into the "us" group that is good and without blame.  Maybe we need to think a bit more about Alexander Solzhenitsyn's quote that "The line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being."

Why me?

Usually the "why me?" question is asked when things are bad. "How come I'm the one losing my job... getting cancer?... having a family member die?" Fair enough. It's natural to feel the shock of unexpected tragedy or loss. We subconsciously think this will happen "to someone else but not me."

Yet this morning as I enjoyed the luxury of a leisurely morning walk I asked the question in a different way. "Why me? Why should I have so much freedom... a healthy (enough!) body... live in such beautiful surroundings?"
I pondered how since early childhood I have been drawn to solitude and silence in beautiful places.
I am forever grateful for childhood summers spent on Ponui Island in the Hauraki Gulf.
Getting there by dinghy and launch was part of the adventure! Sadly I have very few photos of that time. This one was taken approx 1953 with me at bottom of picture holding onto another child to keep her from falling in and Mum at top right with big sunhat.

I did not take this photo but it brings back memories!

I remember the freedom of being able to wander off through the bush or on the beach on my own or with a friend and explore without fear. Ponui being a privately owned island made it safe for my parents to allow such freedom. I'm grateful that they did!

Living in Auckland meant that there were plenty of beaches, parks and hills to enjoy. Cornwall Park and One Tree Hill have always been special places - still enjoyed today.

Then I lived in Torbay with Long Bay beach just down the road:

After 15 years there we moved to Orewa where we are spoilt for choice as many of my previous Blogs have shown - lake, estuary, beach, bush walk - all within easy reach. I'll add just two photos:

So you see why I say "Why me?" There's no answer of course. I could have been born in a refugee camp, or to a poor family struggling to survive in a city slum. I could have been brought up in an abusive family or have lived all my life with a serious disability. The list of "could haves" is endless. Sometimes I even feel a bit guilty to have been given so much ... but receiving what I have been given with gratitude is more appropriate - and that I certainly do - every day. 

Living gratefully and enjoying to the full the gifts of so much time surrounded by beauty has undoubtedly shaped who I am. There's mystery in what we have been given and how it shapes us. I trust that the mystery of my privileged life has, and does, bear fruit in the way I live it out.

Family history on my finger!

I've had a box called "family archives" in the garage for years! Every now and then I dip into it although it all feels rather overwhelming! But today I discovered something rather special.

On an envelope addressed to my mother containing her Dad's 100th birthday cards and telegrams, I noticed for the first time the customs declaration.

The top line reads: "Wedding ring of deceased parent".

I've always known that the ring I wear was Grandpa's wedding ring re-sized to fit Mum and bequeathed to me after Mum died. But somehow seeing the actual envelope in which it travelled (safely!) from UK to NZ in 1977 was a special link to the past.  

Grandpa was born in 1876 and died four weeks after his 100th birthday. Sadly he had a fall and broke his femur just two weeks before his birthday. The Home for Retired Teachers, where he had been living had planned a wonderful party for him and were very disappointed that he had to celebrate his birthday in hospital.

The beginning and end of the article read: 

"Boxing Day was to have been the proudest day in the long life of Mr Frederick Emlyn Phillips, of Trentham. A fabulous party was planned at the Teachers Benevolent Home, New Park, and visitors were due from all parts of the country to attend Mr Phillips 100th birthday celebrations.

And the 40-odd residents and staff were also excited and ready to make the occasion one to remember. By alas, the big party was forestalled by an accident. Mr Phillips suffered a nasty fall and was taken to the North Staffordshire Royal Infirmary, where it was found he had fractured a femur.

...

Miss Sarah M. Jones (social secretary) and Mr. Albert Arrowsmith (administrative officer) were also very disappointed at the cancellation of the party. "He is a gracious person and one of nature's 'true gentlemen,' said Mr Arrowsmith."

How's this for his telegram from the Queen!

Amazing to think that the Queen who had this sent to my Grandpa in 1976 is still our Queen today!

Grandpa in his younger years (note the tie-pin!)

An Ocean of Light

I have just started reading the third in the series of books on contemplation by Martin Laird. In order they are:

It is best to read them in that order as Laird takes you step by step from the edge of the ocean into deeper and deeper water. I have read the first two books twice and gained so much each time. I'm only a few pages in with the third but this morning the following sentence provided my Lectio Divina for today! 

"Contemplation and the lifestyle leading to it and flowing from it, asks but a single question, 'What does kindness look like at any given moment?'"

I am struck by the simplicity of this statement and its question. Why did Laird choose the word kindness rather than love, or compassion? Perhaps for the very reason that it is so surprising. I would have expected the word love or perhaps compassion. But kindness is such a simple, gentle, unassuming quality. Anyone can be kind. Kindness does not require any special skills, forethought or preparation... aha ... there's the conundrum! It's true that kindness is shown by many people quite unexpectedly and naturally. That's wonderful. However, I think what Laird is saying is that the practice of contemplation develops a lifestyle from which kindness flows. That makes sense. Contemplative prayer (and contemplative living) are practices of letting go the self focussed narrative of thoughts and motivation. Less self focus allows more spaciousness for God and for others.

As I ponder that, I think I am a more kind and gentle person now than I was some years ago. I can't be sure that is necessarily the fruit of my contemplative practice but I'm happy to think the two may be linked. And I smile ruefully at the fact that between writing the previous paragraph and this one I was out for few hours and was very impatient and frustrated at the incompetence of a "customer service" situation! Ah well, the reminder that I'm still a beginner is no bad thing. I think I am  quicker to recognise my own faults with kindness even as I hope to do better. 

The cool of the evening

One of the things I really love about daylight saving is that I can walk in the cool of the evening. There's a quiet stillness as the sun is setting and the light is fading. The rush and bustle of the day subsides and those out walking are doing so because they choose to not because they "have to get somewhere." I'm fortunate to live where I can wander around the small lake behind our house as I did this evening.

Two things came to mind as I strolled. I thought of the biblical account of God walking with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day.  "Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day..." Genesis 3:8. I imagined this was a regular occurrence and wondered what they talked about - or if perhaps they walked in companionable silence. (Sadly the end of the verse is "and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden because they were afraid.") 

Then part of an old hymn came to mind: "I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. And he walks with me and he talks with me and tells me I am his own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known." True, the lyrics are more doggerel than poetry but the sentiment is meaningful. A solitary walk with the One who embodies love, friendship and intimacy is a rich source of joy. There is no reason to be frightened and hide - even in the full awareness of our frailty and imperfection. 

I am grateful that I was brought up knowing the Bible well and singing hymns and songs that are rooted in my memory. They become one source of the "the voice I hear, falling on my ear."

My walk in the cool of this particular evening was a gentle and deep delight.

Christmas gifts

As I look back on Christmas I have a mix of feelings...

There's a lot of sadness that the true meaning of Christmas seems less and less evident in the rush and bustle and stress and shopping. As I previously posted - it is hard to find any Nativity scenes but Santa is everywhere.

There's sadness too as I hear from quite a few people that Christmas is time of negotiating difficult family relationships - or the loneliness of having no-one at all with whom to share the day.
Mary and Joseph didn't have it easy on the first Christmas day either! It doesn't sound as though there was a warm family welcome for the unmarried teenager and her "badly timed" delivery"

Then there's the newsworthy(!) reality of the many unwanted gifts that are for sale on TradeMe by Boxing day. By the way - I doubt if many people know the original meaning of "Boxing" day.

Boxing Day is an old custom going back to the Middle Ages. The main feature is the giving of gifts to workers or to poor people. The name has many different histories. The term might have started in England. There, servants would get money or gifts on the day after Christmas. These gifts were called "Christmas boxes". (Wikipedia)

I'm delighted that the trend towards giving "Good Gifts" or "Gifts that last" is growing. Many charities both within NZ and overseas advertise that they have a range of gift cards that represent a donation the buyer has made to someone in true need of practical help. This is precisely the spirit of "boxing day".

In our family we buy one gift for one other person and this year we decided it would be "Good gift". There were sixteen of us so that's sixteen needy people/families who received a gift that will enhance their life (and not end up on TradeMe or in the landfill!) I don't have a list of all the gifts that were given but here are some of those I gave or received from family or friends this year:

• A drought tolerant tree which grows quickly and provides nutrition for a family in Kenya.
• A pair of glasses for a young boy after cataract surgery.
• Reading tuition for a girl in Nepal
• Books for children in Liberia.
• A reading light for a child to do homework in a home with no electricity.
• A goat to help a family start a self sustaining lifestyle.
• Training for a trauma counsellor working with Rohingya refugees.
• A multi purpose generator for a family to use a water pump, plough and truck.