Hard Hats

I heard this really interesting comment yesterday on the radio, Rob Lowe talking about being an actor, that if you are not competitive about it you may as well get out of the industry. Somehow that seemed at odds with the sensitive world of the actor. And then I watched 'The Apprentice'. As much as I can't bear the bitchy back-stabbing, I do admire the sheer balls of people who do everything they can to work that conviction that they have what everyone else wants, even if that is a weird product that no one needs.

Is success about selling something no one needs? And is winning about being noticed and picked above everyone else? No, we all know by now that's not true. There are alternatives to making money and having stuff, which I imagine most readers of this blog get. But if you are not bloodthirsty in business and ruthless in self-promotion, how then do you make this alternative project and big dream stuff work, materially speaking? I have a trip switch that flips whenever I'm faced with material competition, I just don't care, and it can be really counterproductive. Where will I find what it takes to dig in and make it work?

Let's reinterpret. Let's say competitiveness is actually strong courage against adversity. And let's appreciate that this conviction to go all out for something necessary you don't yet have—faith—will see you through some really tough moments. It makes sense that these would be qualities you expect to find in successful people, and it's their stories I want to hear – stories of courage, strength, faith in adversity and endurance for the long haul.

I found this picture of when I was making the angels project, and it reminded me that there is another angle on the building of big dreams that does not involve individual competitiveness so much as a willingness to dig in, push through and work damn hard to make a dream become reality. I suppose what it comes down to is the nature of the dream, and whether or not you really believe in it.

If you'll excuse me, I have a hard had to locate.


*nearly got knocked over by a gigantic bee as I stepped out of the house this morning, not as gigantic as these fellas though - lovin' the bees!

{Today's Soundtrack: The Bees - Every Step's A Yes}

Pretty

While we're on the theme of blossom and snowing trees...


{Today's Soundtrack:
Raghu Dixit - No Man Will Ever Love You, Like I Do}

Hello Blossom

In a curious twist of creation which keeps us on our toes and staring up, the trees have been snowing. Dry, bare twigs and branches have exploded with life and heavy boughs fell over our pathways with the weight of their surprising blossom, until they had their drunken fill and the petals let go so as to mimic the best winter could offer and sprinkle small, pale shapes all over the ground.

Life is pushing from inside—the secret place—to get out and grow in the fresh air. It seemed so unlikely, just a few weeks ago when we were cold, frozen and hunched against the frost, but tiny, robust little green things now point forward from high vantage in the trees and shout, "Go!" to anyone willing to listen.

When the trees start snowing it always makes me catch my breath – a reminder of where we have come from and how unbelievably this appears out of nowhere. If Autmun's riot of colour is life's swan-song in the face of Winter, then Spring comes to flip everything we thought we knew upside down. This behaviour is laughter in the face of what, or whoever says, "No, it is not possible."

{Today's Soundtrack: Bethany Dillon Acoustic}

Looking Out

There's a feeling, isn't there, when you're going for something that takes a bit of work, that it is important to settle in to a steady, long haul pace, head bowed and eyes to the path. Nose down, vision pure. Do not, at any cost, deviate from this path, rhythm or posture.

Surely this is like strapping blinkers on yourself though? A paradox, a grand vision sacrificed in order to realise a grand vision? So focussed and intent, so untrusting of the ankles to be strong against rocks and stones, that the next immediate few inches become everything and long sight comes to mean, or matter, very little in this short reach activity.

But is not the reason for the voyage first and foremost that very long sight? Is it not about the vista, the grand scale, the magnitude?

Are the immediate few inches not given their shape by the expansive miles around them?

If we catch ourselves looking at our feet, overly worried about the snags and potholes, we stand to miss the reason we are climbing in the first place.

'He will not let your foot slip against a stone.'

Trust in that promise; look up, and out, and remember why you began your voyage. Surely that will lift you, in a way, 'on wings, like eagles'.


*


My friend Harry and I were listening to Desert Island Discs this morning while we chatted idly about a few things, and this track came on. He - a cellist - described the intention of the piece, and its existing to fill a vast space. It seems very right for today. Listening to it this morning, it's giving me goose bumps.

{Today's Soundtrack: Vaughan Williams - Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis}

Splicing

Look what I made!

So here I am floating around on water messing about with ropes. When my friend's father offered to take us out on his boat today in characteristically English celebration of a Royal Wedding bank holiday weekend, I was already excited. When he asked me if I'd like to splice a new bow rope I was beside myself. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll be thinking I should get out more, but for a sailor and a craftswoman and a thinker and having just dug out my post about 'strong ropes', this, dear friends, was Christmas early.

I love splicing. My own father taught me when I was very young. He - a sailor and engineer - may have been blind to the poetic potential of weaving a three-way twine but the other side of my genetic make-up being an artist mother who loved knitting will forever forge the practical with the poetic, and so today I turned in my hands the construction of a truly strong and special rope.

Whenever you weave strands, especially of life, you are splicing something amazing for something huge so it does not go adrift.

The splice I made will hold fast a massive, heavy boat on its mooring. I'm really proud of that.


{Today's Soundtrack: Summertime - Gershwin}

Soles

Taking the usual route to my desk this morning, it appeared again so big, bright and green, fluttering and flipping in the breeze as I ducked in-between foot commuters to make a picture of it. Some of these folk marched, some trudged, others sauntered, scuffed or pottered. All moving somewhere, soles of their feet covering ground and creating some distance between them and something behind. 

If the soles of our feet could tell stories, what sort of stories would yours tell? 

I hope they do not speak about numb walks to and from things that are never expected to be different. Are the souls of your feet willing explorers, ready to be planted? I hope they speak of soil and seeds, soft grasses and spaces to grow. Maybe they would speak about pounding miles and miles on hard tracks, the harder they fall the more aggressive—and not necessarily satiated—the heart's desire, and if this was me I would try to heed it as a warning and lighten my step. Would they talk of restless wanderlust that means my feet never know what ground they will navigate next, and would they say there was no pattern to this journey? Perhaps the soles would tell about discovering beautiful, extraordinary lands and homes.

Every footfall is an arrival. I talk about soles like this, and what I'm really saying is that I think it's important to be present, and stop being so focussed on where you're going that where you are fails to captivate you. Pace out the love-filled opportunity in every step.

On the street this morning we were all on a mission of some sort. Some wondered what my pavement mission was, casting a subtle glance to see what piece of crap on the floor was so captivating. That often happens, and I try to remember they haven't seen the forty-nine other times this has happened so they may think it is strange, but they have no idea how I feel.

Three over two days; a thought for my adventuring, loved-up soles and what it does for my here and now.

{Today's Soundtrack: Feist - The Reminder}

If you don't believe me...

...here's the frog.

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Didn't I Say?

Remember this?



Well, it's not even technically flowering season yet, and the sweet peas are just a third of their grown up size and still only frilly green shoots, but I thought you'd like to know in the last few weeks this has happened:



And yes, I did find a frog under the sweet peas on Monday. Sorry I'm not writing much. I'm too busy trying to shut my mouth.


{Today's Soundtrack: Vince Gauraldi - Oh Good Grief}

Excellent Easter

Birds flying high you know how I feel,
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel,
Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel.
It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life...


{Today's Soundtrack: Nina Simone - Feeling Good}

Day Forty

What's that tiny, red, glinting thing, down there on the ground while the blossom trees are in full explosive flourish, and just as I catch myself feeling ever so thankful for spring?

Ah, it's one of those again! Is someone following me while I trundle up to this, the last day of Lent, checking that I get all the way without cheating? It's day number forty, Friday, and we decide to call it 'good'. On that note, I have a few questions:

• What has your journey through lent been like?

• Do you care, about anything?

• Precisely what do you care about?

• Do you have an idea what to do with that?

• Is there any difference between the you now and the you of March 9th?

• How can you tell the difference, and what do you know now?

• Where do we go after this?

• At this end of Lent, what kind of shape is your heart in, and is it really all good?

Hm, good. I suppose it is. Yes, I suppose it is.


{Today's Soundtrack: Agnes Obel - Philharmonics}

Winning Love

As the Jesus thing teaches us not to value a person's standing before we decide to love them, shaking hands with Pastor Rob Bell - a true advocate of this - last night as he signed my copy of his 'Love Wins' book felt a bit phony.

Actually, I just wanted to ask a question about why I think many so-called christians get hung up on their need to be right about who's in, who's out. It was to do with it being supposedly easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter heaven, you know the story. I think it is this comment (among others) that causes people to be so rigid in their desire for rules, guidelines, approvals, permissions, gold stars and stickers on their 'am I getting to heaven' reward chart. I knew Pastor Rob would have a good take on it, so took the opportunity of a book signing to go and ask. However, too busy chatting to someone else and as a last minute straggler, I found myself in an embarrassing bun fight for attention as jet lag got the better of him and stewards the better of me, and he signed my book with barely time for a handshake while still listening to someone else who was taking the opportunity for a monologue. So awkward.

Convinced that love does win, instead I took my question to my friends on the journey home, and we had an interesting chat about obsession with rules versus stuffing up, getting to say sorry and having another go. And also decided not to be embarrassed about asking a writer to sign their book.

It's counter-intuitive, or should I say counter-culture, this Jesus thing, but I'm so glad about that because winning love is no longer on the agenda. Actually, one of the best things Pastor Rob said last night was, "I don't know."

Thank goodness, he said what we're all thinking.




{Today's Soundtrack: Clock Opera - Belongings}

A Strong Rope

There comes a point in a person's life and adventures when the question of resources comes along. Each of us have resources–skills and gifts, inspirations, competence, strength and wisdom gathered from experience–and it's only right to ask how these things might combine for a bigger and better use. It's good to consider responsible use of our resources, and certainly if we can learn to do this for ourselves then we are better placed to consider this corporately, collectively.

However, there is a difficult place to sit while this is being worked out, and that's what these little frayed ropes are about. A strong rope is made up of many strands held together, stronger than the single thread. Some ropes are smooth and sleek, others rough and rugged, some twisted and some knotted, some held together with a piece of twine. They've all got a purpose. 

Sometimes it's good to sit with the unwound strands for a while and appreciate what's going in to this strong rope of yours. It's so tempting to rush the job of splicing but this does take time, and the waiting gives space to appreciate every one of those funny, frazzled and seemingly chaotic strands.


Slightly frayed? As yet unwritten.


{Today's soundtrack: it's pop but I love it, Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten}

Reposted from July 16, 2007