moving day for looking deeper

I'm taking the plunge and am moving to wordpress.com.  There are a few challenges and limitations involved in doing this which have made me somewhat reluctant but I'm hoping it will work out!

Hopefully, you won't have to do much if you are subscribed to a feed through feedburner or via networked blogs, as they will be changed to the new address.  But please do subsitute the new address -http://lucy-mills.com - as and where you need.  Obviously any blog rolls or lists will need changing.

If you subscribe via Google Friend Connect and read my blog on Blogger dashboard, you will need to go into dashboard and 'add' the URL so that it comes up there - but that shouldn't take long, so hopefully you will want to make the effort to do that!

Apologies for any blips or bloopers that may take place during the changeover.

See you over at the new looking deeper!

holiness in the age of the hyperlink - #digidisciple re-post

The following is a post originally found over at the Big Bible Project as part of their #digidisciple initiative.

LET’S FACE IT, the world has shrunk. A whole wealth of information is at our fingertips, laden with opportunities, potential and possibility. The good, the bad and the ugly are all accessible to us in a digital landscape.

Overwhelmed by Choice

What does this mean for the life of the disciple? How can we choose wisely? Now when we are faced with links, bombarded by advertisements where it is so easy to click and go – how do we exercise self control? It’s so easy to look, these days. Searching only requires typing words into a box; it doesn’t require huge planning or effort.

I’m not only talking about the Big Things, like pornography and the vast array of material now available on the internet. Staying holy in the age of the hyperlink can be a huge challenge. But even the little things can challenge our discipleship– even the act of clicking on a link out of idle curiosity, surfing the net in a distracted state and coming away wondering – who ate the last two hours of my life?

Easily distracted

Some of us are more easily distracted than others. I know I am. I envy those who can keep their focus, who have oodles of discipline and self control. Those who are not prone to procrastination. Those who are not like me. Self control is part of the multi-faceted fruit of the spirit – and I find it one of the hardest.

Because it’s so easy to end up looking at things that aren’t necessarily ‘bad’.  Frequently I find myself immersed in the unimportant. I know I could have used my time better, could have been more constructive, could have – does this sound old fashioned to us? – improved my character by doing something different. I don’t want to live a mediocre life, but often I feel in danger in doing so.

Sometimes we are tired, but instead of taking proper rest, we engage in idle distractedness, and wonder why we still feel tired. Our brains and bodies work on so many levels and – much as I hate to admit it – playing Angry Birds does not often give me the rest I need.

Possibly not the most restful activity in the world...

It comes back partly to the old adage: know thyself.  We will all struggle with different things.  One person may have no trouble switching off an activity, whereas another may get sucked into it for hours.  As with so many things, whatever the media, it comes down to how we use them. We are usually aware of our weaknesses, even if we are reluctant to confess them. Identifying what these are is an important part of tackling them, of exercising self control. This is where I am weak. This is where I have to be accountable; this is where I need to put something better in its place.

This is what I need to pray about, to ask God’s Spirit to guide me and indwell me.

Lord, I want to value the time you have given me, to honour the opportunities to make life better – for myself and for others. Help me demonstrate the multi-flavoured fruit of the Spirit, self control included.

Questions to think about:

• What does it mean to be holy? To be different? To be separate? Is it just about staying away from the bad and the ugly or is it an active seeking of the good?
• When we spend time in the digital landscape, how do we use this time? Do we use the opportunities it gives us for the good of ourselves and of others? Or can it be simply an exercise in distraction?
• What identifies us as disciples of Jesus in a digital age?

whispered words

seeking

the hush and the joy of you

the depth and the breadth of you

all consuming, all inspiring

peace that passes

any level of understanding

love all-giving,

hope all-healing

faith - the hands wide open -

not an end in itself

but looking to a different ending

which is actually

full of beginnings

Big Brother - the original

I'M CURRENTLY re-reading George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four.  The first time I read it I was curled up in the conservatory of a holiday cottage while Andy was suffering from a migraine - I consumed it in one day and the end left me gasping.

It strikes me now as I read it again how the dark terror of the phrase 'Big Brother' has been neutralised.  Now we think of the 'Big Brother house' and rate its inhabitants, and occasionally talk of 'Big Brother is watching you' in terms of a surveillance society, but the terror is no longer there in the same way.  For those who never read Nineteen Eighty-Four 'Big Brother' seems mainly a curtailment of civil liberties and an excess of CCTV.

But the never seen Big Brother of Nineteen Eighty-Four is far more than a mere watcher.

Big Brother is infallible and all powerful.  Every success, every achievement, every victory, every scientific discovery, all knowledge, all wisdom, all happiness, all virtue, are held to issue directly from his leadership and inspiration...His function is to act as a focusing point for love, fear and reverence... - George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

The Big Brother in the book is essentially a pseudo-divine figure, a creation of the Party for the people to worship and obey.  The 'thought police' are constantly watching for those who do not hold Big Brother in the highest esteem, to 're-educate' and 'vaporise' those who believe otherwise.  The job of main character Winston is to rewrite history - constantly changing old records so that Big Brother is always right.

The power of association in this phrase is on its way to being lost...just as many literary figures and metaphors are re-inhabited by modern reinterpretations and commercialisation which don't pack the original punch.

Reading the book reclaims the chill of the words: 


Big Brother is watching you.

a retrospective on managing CFS

I've been really interested to read over at Apples of Gold about Red's experience in her CFS diagnosis and more recently her thoughts on her first session/'presentation about CFS.

It's reminded me of my own experience back in 2007 of starting my CFS 'Lifestyle Management' programme - I can't believe it has been this long!  Initially I started with four rest stops a day, and then went down to three.  I still do them.  I'm more flexible these days, but basically I stick with the same routine - Rest Stop 1 mid morning (10.30am), Rest Stop 2 after lunch (1.30pm) and Rest Stop 3 before I make the evening meal (4.30pm).

At first it seemed impossible, and yes there can be a great deal of inconvenience in dividing your day into segments.  But I discovered that by doing this I do not get to that awful stage when I've had to rely on pure adrenalin to keep going, but then it kicks out - and I am left shaking and feeling sick, exhausted but completely unable to rest.  The Rest Stops (I capitalise them in my head; this is not official language!) act as my framework, the pillars holding up my day.  I'm not terribly good at doing them properly - emptying my mind and meditating - but I still keep that habit of at least try and lie down.  This does not involve sleeping, although many people seem to assume so.  "Have you had your sleep?"  They ask me.  I don't often bother to correct them, but if they ask I will explain more fully.

Lately I am trying to make my rests more productive - really trying to turn off my mind by going through mental exercises - the most effective I have come up with is imagining a warm glow moving up my body, bit by bit, telling myself my feet are warm and heavy, my calves are warm and heavy, etc., and then doing breathing exercises throughout.  It takes discipline but I'm certainly more relaxed than when I started.

The other part of the programme was managing activity levels, so I that I set myself daily activity at the lowest common denominator and operate at that level regardless of whether I feel better or worse.  This counteracts the boom and bust cycle - doing more when we feel better, which makes us feel worse, which makes us do nothing, which makes us feel better, which makes us do more, which makes us feel worse....and so on.  That 'lowest' level is usually lower than you expect it to be and can be a discipline to obey.  You need to recognise what activities you find most energy consuming and space them out with gentler activities. When you feel you are managing your energy consistently over a period of time, you gradually increase your 'level' of activity.

Again, I'm not as rigid on this now as I was at the beginning, but it's useful to remind myself.

One other thing I've been reminded of by reading Red's thoughts is how incredible it feels finding those who understand you and your symptoms, as well as getting past the desire not to be defined by my illness.  Now that I 'own' it more readily, the reverse seems to be true - yes, this is true of me - but so is this, and this.  It is part of me and I can't deny it, but it is not all of me. Meeting with others actually released me to feel more 'me' and less 'M.E.'.

It is not all that I am - but I have had to learn to accept it, work round it, make allowances for it.  But it does not define me.  It is just another adjective of my life.

this week's Wednesday wondering

I find it mildly fascinating that we tend to give hurricanes names...like Irene or Katia... as if somehow they are simply individuals who have worked themselves into a temper. In another situation, we might invite them round for a cuppa. Our tendency to anthropomorphise, I suppose (I'm not sure anthropomorphism can be converted to a verb, can it?).

 How did you guess? - yes, I have ironing to do.

trusting in the God who hears

O LORD, you will hear 
the desire of the meek; 
you will strengthen their heart, 
you will incline your ear 
to do justice for the orphan 
and the oppressed, 
so that those from earth 
may strike terror no more.

Psalm 10:17

Friday Fun: the little pianist

This is how I like to express myself, too.

living, breathing reality...

We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are, to see through plastic sham to living, breathing reality, and to break down our defenses of self-protection in order to be free to receive and give love.

- Madeleine L'Engle
(from Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art)

when friendship hurts

RECENTLY I came across some news of an old friend which stung me.  Stung me because she hadn't told me, because she never told me things; it was always me trying to keep up the friendship until, exhausted, I gave up, feeling genuinely not wanted.

I allowed myself to get hung up on this, recycling old hurts until I pulled myself up and realised how unhealthy it all was.  In fact, several times I have come to a place of forgiving - but on occasions like these, I am very tempted to 'go fishing'.  Due to these previous reconciliation within myself, there was very little anger or bitterness in my thinking.  But there was still hurt.  It left me muffled by old pain.

It does hurt.  We let friends grow close to us, we revel in their company and their comfort, we treasure their confidences, the moments where we grew closer.  But when life makes it tougher to keep up the friendship and we feel like we're doing all the work, the friendship suffers.  It hurts even more when the other person doesn't seem particularly bothered that you are growing apart.

The nature of friendship, of any close relationship, is that we are allowing the possibility of pain.  Those we love the most will always have the power to hurt us the most.  We can't shake off their words and actions, can't shrug them away as something irrelevant or unimportant.  These are the people that should know better.  Conversely, when we have an intimate relationship with someone it is inevitable that you will see them in a variety of guises - some of them less pleasant than others.  We do not refrain out of politeness.

Whether composed of simple neglect or outright treachery, the wounds made by friends go deep.  And if the effort is not made to heal them, to confess them, to talk them over and come to an understanding, they can lie there like old scars - itching if we scratch them too much.

When I had thought over what I was doing - this unhealthy overturning of the past and comparisons with the present, I forced myself to change gear.  Because when we focus on the pain caused by some relationships, we often forget to recognise those in our lives who do bother, who do make the effort, who are repentant when they hurt us and without whom we would be less than what we are.

I recognised then how blessed I am - how many there in my life who take such time over me, who care for me so deeply and considerately, often undeservedly.  There will always be old aches and pangs of regret.  But I cannot let these blanket my vision.  I want always to see the kindness, the lovingness, the genuine care I receive so frequently from good - in every sense of the word, good - friends.


Image: from stock.xchng

quick question for blog followers

HERE'S  a quick question for you - if I change to Wordpress.com, I cannot use Google Friend Connect (unless I pay for webhosting and use Wordpress.org, which I am not intending to do at this stage). If you 'follow' me with Google Friend Connect, would you still bother reading my blog if I moved - would you still subscribe by other means -e.g. using a reader or liking the page on Facebook?

I'm considering a changeover but this is making me hesitate - would really appreciate knowing your thoughts.

friendly maintenance

We've made friends.  But what makes our friendship last?  How do we maintain our friendship?

Just as there are many ways of making friends and many personalities that form those friendships, I suspect maintaining friendships has no simple template either.  But even if you have a plant which needs very little watering and can cope with times of huge neglect and still survive, it will suffer, and even the strongest can eventually die.

Friendships need maintaining if they are to continue influencing our lives.  

We need to put certain elements to work: time, consideration, expressions of value and kindness.  We need to communicate, to have a certain amount of availability, to be seen to care.  Because if we do not care about our friends, they will certainly feel it.

Some friendships can go months and years and have that lovely habit of 'picking up where we left off' as if no time had past.  Such is the bond and the understanding that both parties know this is the case, and rest in the knowledge of a constant friend.  Some friendships are not like this - without careful upkeep they disintegrate and become awkward, unable to maintain previous intimacies.  And if you mistake the latter for the former, it can be a shock to realise that you have lost something - that your friend is no longer 'there' in the way they were previously, that you should have been more careful if you wanted to keep them.

I find this difficult to reflect on as it is all very personal - my experience may well be entirely different to yours.  Even within my hypotheses there are paradoxes - I can think of two individuals who hardly ever keep in touch with me.  With one, this does not impact our friendship at all; when I think of her I feel a great rush of loyalty and love.  When I think of the other, I feel hurt.  I suppose with the former it is different in that I know she wants my friendship and time simply runs away with her; with the other it feels like the ball has always been in my court and no effort is really made on her part at all.

There needs to be a form of mutual maintaining.

I quietly regret the friendships I have let slide - those when I come to pick them back up find myself scrabbling at mere pieces of what we once had.  Grief roars then; as someone who forms strong attachments and feels deeply, I find such realisations painful.  My life is full of stinging memories where I have not maintained what I honestly valued - but did not show it.  I assumed it would always be as it had been - and that was my mistake.


We cannot assume a friendship will maintain itself.

There are friends I cannot easily see and I deliberately programme in - this is not always easy but even the effort shows that I want to - where our plans are foiled by circumstances we both know that we had plans to see each other.

We appreciate the effort made by our friends to keep up with us.

Distance is a great test - and we do not deliberately back away from our friends but our lives can move in different directions.  Change in friendships is inevitable, and if we have lots of close friends it can be a challenge to keep that 'closeness' with all of them, even if we want to.

I think there is, in friendship, an instant recognition – a kind of loving.  It needs only a word in passing, the touch of a hand – yet parting is loss, and the tiny ache of regret stays with us always. - Helen M Exley

When a friend does not try, does not bother with us, or respond to us, we feel hurt, frozen and rejected.  But that's a topic for another post...

the makings of friendship

What makes a friendship?  What starts a friendship?

There are all manner of people, so it seems inevitable that there are all manner of friends.  And what you think 'makes' a friendship may differ from my definitions.  In fact, our very definitions of friendship may differ.  One person's friend may be another's friendly acquaintance.

'Laughter is the beginning of friendship; sorrow is its seal' - words I scrawled rather loftily over a decade ago.  Sounds a bit weird.  What I meant was, sharing laughter is the beginning of friendship, sharing sorrow is the the sealing of friendship.  I had a specific friend in mind I think, where the early days were full of giggles and shared jokes, a delight at similar senses of humour.  But then came the day when we begun sharing our tears and our hurts - and thus entered a whole new level of friendship.

I've also known encounters where you start with laughing together and end with crying together all in one conversation - one of those 'fast forward' friendships I mentioned in my last post, somewhat rare and dependent on an automatic trust and honesty which allows for such deep emotional connections...

But not everyone will thrive on these deep friendships, preferring not to bare all and share all!  And I have those I call friends who would not see this side of me.

Is it fair to say there are levels of friendship?  I don't want to make it sound like some are superior and some are inferior -echoing back to playground politics at school - where you were consigned to 'best friend', 'second best friend' and lived awkwardly under that label. 'Power play' can be at work here, and it can create deep insecurities. But there will be friends I share more deeply with because I have seen in them an understanding that allows for it.  There are friends I share more deeply with because we have walked together through difficult times - and shared lunatic moments!  There are friends I share more deeply with because they have made the effort to stay in touch when others did not bother.

I suspect we all form friendships in different ways - different from each other because we are individuals with our own ways of expressing, our own needs.  Different even within ourselves because we identify those in our lives who would particularly appreciate certain things about us.

We can form friends through familiarity - seeing each other regularly. We can form friends because we have gone through similar experiences and helped each other through them. We can form friends because we see in someone else a likeness to ourselves. We can form friends because we see a difference from ourselves, one that is complementary. We can form friends because we have hope and faith in common, or because we have been through a stage of life where we were both developing and learning new things.

There is no single template.


Update: on reading this post, a friend (who comes under the 'fast forward' category!) mentioned this moment in the Big Bang Theory, which I link to here for your viewing pleasure (embedding is disabled): http://youtu.be/k0xgjUhEG3U



Next up: maintaining friendships, perhaps? 

thoughts on friendship

RECENTLY IN THE BACKGROUND of my mind I've been thinking about friendships - specific friendships of my own, as well as friendship in general - the formation of friendship, the endurance (or not) of friendship, the levels of intimacy within friendships, the challenges of friendships both old and new.

I could try and splurge my thoughts in one rambling post, but I will try, time permitting, to reflect upon my theme in instalments.  Friendship as a concept these days now acquires new challenges as not only do our friendship bases widen due to travel and movement, they can also be formed and maintained by social networking.

Social networking has a different impact on friendship depending on your generation. What I mean is, for those of us who grew up prior to social networking sites, we have the somewhat odd experience of 'getting back in touch' with older friends, not merely as individuals but as collective. For example, I can look at my school friends and see that one group of which I was a part have largely stuck together - which unsettles me slightly when I realise that I am not one of them any more. I moved on and away and did not move back; my closest friendships were formed, generally speaking, later. There were reasons for this, health probably being a factor, as well as opportunities and common hopes, dreams, opinions.

When I moved into adulthood and encountered the scaldingly intimate friendships I made later, it seemed strange to try and find this in earlier friendships made of other stuff - different in tone, different in need. Yet I can see that those who have grown up in these friendships have also reached these levels of intimacy - which I formed with others in other places.  (The challenge of course that I did not remain in these places and thus have experienced the fierce loss of no longer being a few paces away from those who changed me so utterly.)

And although there are several adages about the age of friendships being directly related to their quality, this is not always the case. There are moments when a jolt of recognition occurs between two people who have only just met, whereby the intimacy and frankness that can take years are fast forwarded. These moments are not necessarily common, but precisely because of their rarity they feel deliciously surprising when they occur - as if they are a gift of sorts.

Friendship comes in many guises.



Image: stock.xchng

the incongruity of me

THERE ARE times when I know that trying to do anything is useless; I am over-expended; there is nothing for it but to slouch grumpily quietly recharge until I regain some kind of energy, however small.  But my personality is not terribly patient with resting up and waiting.  It's not that it doesn't like being calm and meditative or reflective.  But when tiredness comes along it is not terribly sympathetic even to gentle reflection - I can't even rest coherently.  My mental abilities are resigned to two simultaneous states - one rather like the hyperactive toddler who should have been in bed two hours ago, and the other a dead, lifeless opposite.  The one wars against the other while from the outside I look generally spaced out and cannot seem to construct sentences properly.

When I stop, I tend to dream.  My hopes and longings bubble up unhindered by busyness, but they are so incongruous in comparison with my physical state that moments of elation are swiftly followed by moments of depression.

I don't feel depressed while writing this, so you don't need to grab your box of tissues.  I just wanted to have a bash at explaining something I can't easily describe. I don't even know how to finish this post, but life alas seems to require days like these - riding out the silly fatigue, putting my desires and expectations in the corner of the room and allowing myself to feel and act like mulch.  Perhaps those who need rest the most resent it the most.

Eventually, the mulchiness is moulded into something rather more helpful - quietness of heart.  But such a thing is not acquired by the flicking of a switch or a mere intention.  No, first I have to master the mulchiness of a dynamic personality warring against the stagnancy of fatigue.  Then, and only then, does serenity seem to have a chance.

taking the train...

MAY BE rather quiet on the blog front the next few days; I'm heading to my parents for a family gathering over the weekend - hopping on train tomorrow.  Have packed most of what I can today; must not forget train tickets.  Aside from the getting on and off between train connections I rather enjoy train travel.  Sometimes I think - I shall write reams!  But actually often I find it a good space to allow my brain to rumble to a (relative) halt.  Am taking equipment needed for writing with me but do not anticipate doing much.

I feel a little unproductive of late - but sometimes I need to step back and breathe, and recollect previous enthusiasm and vision.  Hopefully I shall return geared up for lots of lovely words.

Be blessed.

Have you tried opening it?

Came across this a while ago...thought I'd share it here!

and the rain, rain, rain...

IT'S WET.  Very wet.  The pond, which has a slow leak, has been effortlessly topped up.  Went out to lunch with a friend - as we walked (scampered?) back to her car the already incessant rain seemed to quadruple in strength.  Got soggy earlier trying to batten down the rabbit hutch (so Charlie didn't get soggy).

I haven't done any work today but decided to stop feeling guilty about it and allow myself to recharge and refresh my mind.  I think I've been experiencing overload on a few fronts, battling the tiredness, trying to be productive and failing - at least at what I thought was productive.  The house is terribly gloomy in this weather but a little lamplight made a cosy afternoon, plus another very lovely friend ran across the road with gorgeous lemon drizzle cake. Aren't friends wonderful?  I feel constantly blessed by them.

Anyway, as I've deliberately turned down my mind today I have no great philosophical statements to make.

But it is wet.  Most definitely.

memory...and all its friends

THE MORE I LOOK at the topic of memory, the more I realise how many avenues, how many side streets there are. (I almost compared these to dendrites on a neuron - which shows what I busy my brain over these days!)  This is especially true when talking to people.  I mention to people I am writing a book about memory, or more specifically the role of memory in faith, and they come back with some really interesting thoughts and questions.  I chatted with two old friends earlier this week - and conversation with one led to the topics of story telling and of severe memory loss (in reference to forms of dementia).  The other asked the question: what about memories you want to forget?  (I.e. how to deal with bad memories.) Strangely enough, I'd been typing up some thoughts on that very topic only the day before.

All these things fascinate me.  There have rarely been any topics that have fascinated me as much as this one; I'm not sure an 'idea' has ever held so much staying power in my mind before.  But I know I cannot cover everything in this book.  I want to recognise the issues involved, while acknowledging the limits of my subtopic, if that makes sense.

The book focuses on the importance of remembering in the life of faith (looking at the role of memory both in biblical times and today) and the flipside of this - the problems of forgetting.  And I suppose the book does focus on forgetfulness - recognising the damage and distress it can cause, looking at how our memories are so essential to questions of identity - another point I emphasise throughout the book.  Within that I recognise the distress for those who lose memory through degenerative illness, but I cannot make this a primary focus.  I also refer in one chapter about the power of our memories - and the potential mastery of 'bad memories'.  So far, that chapter is more reflective than anything else - asking questions without rushing in with clumsy answers.

At the moment I'm doing a lot of science related research, learning about how our brains work, what memory is (itself a matter of disagreement for many) and how we store and experience memory.  I know this is will not be a major element of the book but it is essential to have this in the background, underpinning my paragraphs and ensuring I don't write anything...well, dopey.

I described it recently in an email to a friend as a many tentacled thing, and that is what it feels like.  There are a lot of tentacles, but I adore my topic.  My problem is that I can't work out how much time to spend on the book and how much to spend on one off article writing...although I'm considering using the 'tentacles' as topics for articles, too.  It seems sensible to make the research fuel more than one area, and that way I don't feel disloyal to either form of writing.

Finally, I am trying to work out how to build a 'platform' for the book when I do start trying to get it published.  I suppose related articles (and frequent blog bashing) is good place to start!

Wednesday wondering

AGAIN another week (nearly) has trundled past.  The earth has rotated on its axis a few times and lives have changed for better and for worse, be it small, seemingly insignificant changes or huge events tumbling people and communities into turmoil.  Shocking amounts of children have died in Somalia - and other places grappling with horrors of their own have continued to grapple with them.  The UK, meanwhile, analyses and re-analyses the riots, the possible reasons for them, and the proper response to them. Six people are stabbed to death in Jersey.  A newly wed dies in a shark attack.

Sometimes I find it hard to comment on world events, be they corporate or individual, knowing that I will never be able to fully comprehend or respond to them, knowing that there are so many tragedies, so many lives. In an age of mass communication we have the ability to find out about so many of them - and then not know how to respond.  The age old question: who is my neighbour?  arises out of the global village and finds no easy answer.  We can't just say: that's miles away from me, I'll only focus on my local community.  Neither can we forget our 'next door' communities, although we are frequently distracted from them, encased in our own quiet bubbles.  We express the required outrage and indignation when hearing about things but our hearts and minds are stretched very thin.  There are so many 'communities' in our lives these days.

There's no criticism in my pondering; it is, in fact, mere pondering. A moment of muddled thinking, before I go back to my daily routines and my personal circles and wonder how I connect with a bigger whole, which feels full of holes.

Very glad his wisdom is unsearchable and his love beyond depth and knowing.