blessing of blossom

This was first posted on a private blog, 24 March, 2011.

She came bearing branches –
bus to train to train,
sheltering fagility as best she could,

then, up the hill, past an old friend’s grave
a prayer
and a blessing of blossoms.

Usually, she brings branches in December:
dark, and bare on St Barbara’s Day,
pink and new born for Christmas.

‘What tree is this?’ I’d asked,
‘what is it like in Spring?’
so seven years and a season later, she came.

We spoke of cats and trees and journeys,
her husband, no longer at home,
and his clear certainty that she should wear red.

The things she really came for hung in silence,
and our time ended too soon
to reach through the cracks of our defences.

I think of her now, a blessing –
train to train to bus,
sheltering fragility as best she can.

lovely view

I have fond memories of the convent in Wantage (Community of St Mary the Virgin) from my days in the Midlands.  But I haven’t been there for a while, nor have I looked at their web site.

Well, it’s all change.  They’re working really hard to have a diverse, engaging web site that offers good information about the community.  There are also lots of resources for those who are far off, including video-links to the daily office.

I always struggled with the singing at Wantage.  I felt that voices were being restrained and hemmed in lest anyone express themselves too clearly.  It was such a sharp contrast to the sense I had of the sisters as strong and grounded and ‘themselves’.  But it seems that in web journalism they have found the medium for rich, quirky expression.

… the splendid photo of the nun, lying prone on the lawn to catch a better video.

… the long loving look at a too-far-away squirrel’s nest, and the journey of the squirrels themselves down the tree.

… a splendidly narrated tour of the convent grounds, in which you have to take it all on trust, as you get the steady view and the clip clop of the pony trap.

I just love it.

Truly:  the is made me laugh till I cried.  I think it is a brilliant web site, that makes me think that maybe it is worth the long drive down.

the nature video is here, and the front page, here.

Oh, and the singing of the O Antiphons begins today at 5 pm.  Do join in…

when peaceful silence…

It is beautiful here.  Snowing again — fine, eccentric flakes glimmering in the sun.   The driveway never catches the light — which means that the 18+ inches of snow might be problematic for quite a while.  But at my desk, it is warm and bright.

And I love it.

More that the view, I love the sound — the lack of sound.  A deep still silence broken only by the occasional bird chirp.  This is such a contrast to the usual state of the rectory:  constant chatter and laughter and screaming from the school kids as they walk back and fort to the hall; the regular whoosh of cars and thud of doors.

The silence is so precious that I don’t want to break it.  Or miss it.

Several of my more extroverted friends are getting restless.  They are tearing through work, knee deep in show to run errands.  A part of me wishes I had their restlessness, their energy.  I would get much more done.

But snow brings out the huge gulf between introverts and extroverts.

I just love this:  the silence, the stillness, the lack of pressure to go anywhere or see anyone.

And I am getting things done — cleaning bits of the house that I haven’t seen for a while.  Helping people learn how to use WordPress.  Doing odds and ends for Christmas.  Catching up with that endless pile of things that are always needing attention but never quite urgent.  But I thought I’d be further through it by now.

No.  It seems there is enough to do to keep me busy for days, weeks like this.

And there will come a day (tomorrow, perhaps) where I have to choose to leave the peace and the silence, lest I get trapped here and forget how to emerge.

But for now it is glorious, and healing.   Less productive this week, perhaps; but in the long run, this is more productive, more creative.  The weeks ahead will be better, and easier because of it.

I am envious of my extroverted friends energy, of their productivity.

But this is weather for introverts, and I am suddenly at peace.

beginning

When Advent rolls round, or Lent, and it’s time to sort out the seasonal blogs, I think ‘why do I do this?’

I dare not think how many people I have taught to use wordpress, how many times I have talked people through signing up and learning to post.  I’m becoming much more blasé about it now that so many more people are blogging.  But still, it takes time, when I haven’t had much blogging energy for quite a while now.

But then it begins:  a flurry of emails to set it all up.  A new author whom I sense has the eagerness that some of the old hands used to have.  My most dependable, mistreatable author ready to jump in with today’s post with no warning — and what a post it is.  A whole group of people ready to step out on the ice, take a risk, try something new.

I love it.

And after a few hours of making it all work, I clicked on the blog one last time to find that someone totally new, totally unknown had found it by accident and read through all the back posts.

And that makes it worth it.   Every time.