Spiritual Practices

Over these past few years since I retired from full-time work in 2015, spirituality has become increasingly important to me as will be apparent from my posts. Some regular activities in my life have a spiritual flavour to them, so much so I refer to them as spiritual practices: 1) My regular early morning 2 hour bike ride which does wonders for me and I do it 3 times a week if at all possible. I am out in nature and not too many people about; I pray at a regular point on my journey; my head clears, I compose poems, posts and sermons and write some of it down when I get home, I pass a church on the route and if the bells ring I remember people who have died. 2) I love my fresh made bagels and if I get up early which I often do I might just make this, especially if we have visitors. You can't rush it; you have to wait for the dough to rise. Its timeless and nothing else to do. 3) I have been going to Death Cafe for over 7 years and it meets in one of my favourite cafes - T Hive - which is just round the corner from me. We say what we need to say without worrying. At the end of the gathering I leave always feeling uplifted. My physical life in this body is finite so I need to enjoy the moment(s) and to be thankful that I and you are here. 4) Singing in a community choir which is non religious but boy the music and lyrics are so so spiritual. And we rehearse in a church and I can feel the spiritual energies there. And we breathe in unison and our heart beats apparently start to synchronise. 5) And of course walking in the countryside seeing flowers, trees, clouds, sunshine, rain and rainbows. 6) Visiting holy places/places of worship that often have such amazing spiritual energies - York Minster, Glastonbury Tor, Lindisfarne, Avebury and plenty more. And the energies are subtly different on each visit. "May the long time sun shine on you And all love surround you And the pure light within you Guide your way home"

Holy Moments

In Cross Chapel this morning for the final rehearsal for the lunchtime Advent Concert. Listening to Robert the tenor do a solo with lovely piano and flute playing. Spirit rises in me and I am weeping with joy and appreciation. It's a holy moment. I haven't earnt these moments (unless in a past life!) them seem to be part of how I am wired. Again and again I am blessed with such moments; they have changed my life for the better. I am grateful.

Richmal Crompton and I

Richmal Crompton who wrote the Just William books – who I was named after at it was on the radio when my mum was pregnant with me(!) – always wanted to be a serious novelist. She did have one such book published, which I have read and it is OK, but it was the William books that hit the spot. As a teenager I wanted to be a poet and fiction writer and have written off and on ever since but never with any great success – a few poems published and the odd short story mostly online. I have enjoyed at times reading my poems and getting immediate audience reactions but it did take it out of me so I stopped doing it. Anyway instead and almost accidentally I became an academic aged 43 and to get and keep a full time post I had to have stuff published in academic journals. At the time I got some great support from my PhD supervisor Prof John McLeod. And more recently, now no longer in post I just write on request, usually the odd book chapter and paper. A new voice has emerged from which is more personal, more autoethnographic and less referenced. Curiously this part off me feeds over into sermons and homilies when I am asked to take a Unitarian Service at Cross Street. 2 of my favourite recent papers, which I enjoy re-reading, were published by the extraordinary Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy are ‘On becoming (a) patient’ which draws on my 13 days in hospital with a broken leg in 2014 and ‘Hymns to the silence’ 2021 about my spiritual experiences and music. So, I have learnt that my conscious ambitions are not necessarily what happen to me but are general pointers. A writer Yes but probably not fiction. In the late 1980s I wanted to run some therapy groups in the USA. I sent about a dozen letters to contacts there but nothing happened – probably coals to Newcastle as it were. But I also wrote to an American contact in Japan. He replied that he was about to write to me to invite me over. I had 3 lovely visits over the next few years. So perhaps I can honour what I have done and the good ways I have been put to use; not about my personal ambition but about what is needed from me.

Lets grow

During Covid, Brexit, Ukraine War food supplies to the UK have been disrupted as has harvesting. Climate change is going to make all this worse. So we need to grow and harvest more locally and eat less meat. Ideally our government would set targets and support this. We can grow more in our back gardens and in pots and more allotments would be a good thing. Dig for survival! And we need a different better relationship with each other and with our planet. If you like a Buber I/Thou relationship. So there is a need for a healthy and inclusive spirituality to be part of this new life.

Poem for Chris

Poem for Chris// I am sure the time/ Was just right/ For your soul// But you left us/ Way…. Way too soon// We still re-member you/ There is a Chris shaped/ Hole in our hearts// (Amen)

Expresso Cafes

As a teenager growing up in the 1960s in a small town where everyone seemed to know me and when I was out and about on a Saturday night people would tell my parents all about it until I got to drive and hang out in the big city - Birmingham. I used to hang out in cafes in y home town on Saturday mornings with Chunky and Ziggy. These were safe places and usually had expresso coffee, juke boxes and pin ball machines. Imagine me hearing Pete Townsend of The Who singing My Generation – ‘Why don’t you all f-f-f-f fade away?’ Of course it was obvious he wanted to sing ‘Why don’t you all f*ck off?’ I needed this safe space to be in and to be with who I was. That has not changed for me. I still use cafes this way, alone or with safe friends. You know who you are. This was because I did not really feel that I belonged in my birth family. Not that unusual a feeling. I thought I might have been adopted but my mum told too many stories about me as a baby. I also did not like some aspects of what young men were supposed to be and still don’t. I wanted to be free to be me but without a fight just to sit with the realization. What is clear to me now is that I can choose how I present myself – and that can be real fun – but I can not choose who I am. It’s an ongoing process of discovery and coming to terms with being human and not an angel

Hair today - poem

Went to my hairdressers a few days ago and noticed how thin my hair was. So: Hair Today/ I am developing a tonsure/ But I don't have the wisdom/ Of a monk or a holy man/ In fact/ I am no wiser/ Than the hairy young man/ I used to be.