Caravan of Selves 2: 8-14 years 1952-1959

A lot happens in seven years! As I reflect on this chapter some things stand out: changing from Primary School to Intermediate School to High School. That's a lot of transitions. I was fortunate that I enjoyed school and seemed to always have friends.

Ten years old. Front row 3rd from left.

This photo shows I had two boys and one girl I "didn't like" (crosses drawn on faces)!! I also notice I wasn't wearing glasses yet.

Twelve years old. Middle row third from left.

We had a very nice teacher (whose name I forget) for both Form 1 and 2. I loved Intermediate school except that my parents didn't allow me to learn dancing (!) so I had to sit and watch as the others learned ballroom dancing in readiness for the Form 2 ball.

I was baptised by Dad at the Baptist Tabernacle the day after my 13th birthday. I still have the Daily Light my sister Merry gave me on that occasion.

During these childhood/adolescent years a major highlight was our annual holidays on Ponui Island where Dad was chaplain at the Crusader Camps. Mum and Andrew and I (and sometimes Merry and Peter) camped out in the wool shed. The wool shed was in a paddock that often had a bull in it!! I'm very sad I don't have more photos of Ponui as it was a pivotal place in my life. Ponui is privately owned by the Chamberlain family. There are no roads, no cars, no shops and no "stranger danger" so I was free to wander in solitude without fear and soak up the incredible beauty of bush and beach. It nurtured the inherent contemplative part of me - long before I knew the word!

Getting from the launch to shore. Me in prow hanging on to a friend.

Colleen and me.

Me on left, Andrew the smallest boy. 

I'm pretty sure this was taken at Ponui. Peter, Dad, Merry, Mum, me, Andrew.

The next two photos (from Google) are well remembered aspects of the island.

Free roaming donkeys - a real feature of Ponui!

The peaceful mix of farm and beach

And then to High School - Epsom Girls Grammar School - EGGS for short. At first I rode my bike to school but when we moved to Glen Eden I caught the train every day. We "train girls" were allowed to pack our school bags and put on our hats and gloves just before the bell rang so we could run to the station and catch the train!

I turned 14 in my third form year. Second row from back second in from left.

I was in Form 3AL - L for Latin A for top stream. I don't remember anything much about Latin now!

Caravan of Selves 1: 0-7 years 1945-1952

Baby - born 1945 in England

Grateful for a happy secure childhood in a loving family. Born at the end of the war I escaped the traumas of air-raid drills, gas masks and being being evacuated.

About 5 years old

From 2 years old (after I had whooping cough) I remember constant attacks of bronchitis. Mum taught me to knit. I'm proud of this jumper which I knitted (with some help) - red with white fairisle pattern!

I started school in England but don't really remember anything about it. This photo shows my school blazer - Leighcliff School.

Andrew and Sheila Christmas before leaving England

35 Leighcliff Rd where we lived before coming to NZ. (Photo taken on a trip back to England.)

I remember open fires - roasting chestnuts on the fire at Christmas, -being in bed a lot with bronchitis and Mum or Dad staying with me during the night as I was afraid I couldn't breathe if I went to sleep.

1952 On board the P&O Strathaird to set off for NZ.
L-R Grandad, Grandma, Merrie, Peter, me with ? behind me, Dad with Andrew, Mum

I appreciate now, more than ever, the courage of my Mum bringing four children aged 16, 14, 6 and 2 across the world away from all family, friends and contacts. Dad too, of course, but for him it was an exciting call to a new ministry.

The family photo for welcome to Auckland Baptist Tabernacle
Sheila, Mum (Kate), Meriel, Andrew, Dad (John), Peter.

The years at the Tab were happy for me. We lived in the Manse at 15 Henley Rd, Mt Eden.
This is the only (very poor) photo I have of it.

15 Henley Rd, Mt Eden (Andrew outside)

Still lots of bronchitis and time away from school but I read books constantly and my schooling didn't seem to suffer.

1953 Mt Eden Normal Primary.
I'm second row from back, fifth in from left.

Seven years old and in Mr Martin's class. He was my favourite teacher and is still someone I remember with warmth.

A Caravan of Selves: Introduction

Who would deduce the dragonfly from the lava, 
the iris from the bud,
the lawyer from the infant? 

... We are all shape-shifters and magical re-inventors.

Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves.

- Diane Ackerman

I came across this quote recently and it was yet another nudge to do something I've been thinking of doing for quite a while - creating a kind of "photo-biography" of my life to date. 'A caravan of selves' is an interesting image; each evolving and connected stage essential for the whole journey.

In the book From Age-ing to Sage-ing: A Revolutionary Approach to Growing Older. by Rabbi Zalman Schacter-Shaolmi and Ronald S Miller it is suggested that our age and aging process can be divided into seven year segments with each segment being like a month in the year of life.

In The Grace in Living, Kathleen Dowling Singh suggests that our life journey can be seen in “Quarters” with the following themes:
The First Quarter: From Tasting to Hunger
The Second Quarter: From Seeking to the End of Seeking
The Third Quarter: Healing into Maturity
The Fourth Quarter: Ripening

I think these two paradigms interlock quite easily:

January    Birth -7rs        1945-1952
February       8-14           1952-1959
March         15-21           1959-1966

--------------------------
April          22-28             1966-1973
May           29-35             1973-1980
June           36-42             1980-1987
---------------------------
July            43-49             1987-1994
August       50-56             1994-2001
September  57-63            2001-2008
---------------------------
October      64-70             2008-2015
November  71-77             2015-2022
December  78-84             2022-2079

I like the idea of using seven year periods to give a framework for my 'caravan of selves' so here goes! Although I'm doing this primarily for myself, I'm posting it on my Blog to give myself a bit of accountability. Even though I don't allow comments on the Blog itself I know some regular readers will expect the next chapter to show up! So if you are one of those readers who has my email or messenger contact, feel free to give me a nudge if you think I need it! (But be patient too - I'm not pressuring myself to a set schedule. There are a lot of years to cover!)

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!)