Finding a Rhythm

Welcome to a new chapter in the Wednesday Retreat blog! I haven't posted anything here for awhile, but in these strange times of COVID-19, it seemed a resource we might make use of together. I sense that it offers a vehicle for sharing thoughts and wisdom from the contemplative tradition that can help us inhabit our new circumstances. And it offers a space (albeit more limited) where others can share their thoughts, insights, questions, links to helpful readings or podcasts. I hope you might find it helpful, and invite you to participate to the extent you feel drawn.

One of the things that's struck me in the last week is the difficulty of finding a rhythm for the days. In the first flush of communication about isolation, I received a couple of poems waxing lyrical about the opportunity for sabbath, for rest, for recalibrating and so on - and there was much in them that appealed. But, in fact, my experience is of having been as busy as ever, and distinctly less rested - and I think for many people this is so. So many teleconferences and Zooms, so much technology to learn. Many of us are figuring out how to put our work 'online' - from churches to classrooms to businesses - and it's all a bit stressful. At the same time, for others I know, work and many significant activities and social engagements, have simply ceased - there's an abrupt gap and an abrupt aloneness to come to terms with - more a lacuna than a sabbath.

And I began to wonder if, whether we feel hectic and digitally overloaded, or becalmed and suddenly isolated, perhaps the common experience is of the disruption of the rhythm of our days. Established patterns and routines, established goings outs and comings in, are no longer given. And this is experienced as a kind of dislocation - an existential discombobulation.

Rowan Williams once suggested that one of the major threats to human wellbeing 'is the sense of living without landmarks in time or space'. In relation to 'space', this points to the importance of a certain kind of built environment; in relation to 'time' it suggests the necessity of certain rhythms - of day and night, work and rest, and also a calendar that differentiates the days. If we are interested in a community's health and survival capacity, he says, we must have a sense of 'how we break up time into significant units, how we punctuate the simple duration of our days with events that locate us' against a larger horizon ('Sustainable communities' in Faith in the Public Square, p.240).

This sense of the significance of the rhythm of a day is clearly evident in monastic life - each day punctuated by the 'hours' of prayer, the days themselves organised by the calendar which connects humanity's story with God.

And I wonder what we might discover about what our own particular needs are in this regard? What kind of rhythm conduces to your flourishing? How are you beginning to recalibrate your time and the balance of your days? How is prayer or daily meditation a part of that (or not)? What are you finding helpful?

Let's share some of our experience, as we seek to make of this time an opportunity for growth and deepening, as we learn to 'be together alone'.

Shalom,
Sarah

The Book of Nature

Today was my first Wednesday retreat since coming home and where should I head but our beloved Botanic Gardens? This gum tree in the car park always signals, somehow, the entry into rest and this morning it was positively shining in the light.

It's been a busy two weeks since I've been back, picking up the threads of things, and I was conscious of a sense of being a bit wound up, not really having stopped fully for a while. As ever, the longer I spent in the gardens, contemplating the life around me, the more I came to rest and to feel myself being restored by simple presence to the beauty of the world.

Winter brings out the sculptural elements of trees, ferns, shrubs.

This double trunk looked like the feet of a giant.

Winter is also the time of the banksias - their amazing colours and delicate filamented flowers.

And a slightly hoarier banksia-man!

The medievals thought that God was revealed not only in the book of Scripture but in the book of Nature, and Meister Eckhart said: 'Apprehend God in all things, for God is in all things. Every single creature is full of God and is a book about God. Every creature is a word of God'. I'm not sure exactly what this means - but an implication, I think, is that in being present to the world we are present to God. No wonder, then, that the practice of presence is so deeply healing and renewing.

Shalom,

Sarah

London and Oxford

On Thursday and Friday, I had two free days to be a tourist. So on Thursday morning (and with a view to getting in some training for the Camino Levante) I set off on foot to walk from Islington to the British Museum. Not too far - about a 45 minute walk.

I navigated my way thanks to the helpful direction posts with maps that the City of London has erected at various strategic points, and arrived at Russell Square just near the Museum. It is filled with magnificent plane trees, and so this picture is for Pat - our junior (relatively speaking) plane tree in Bruce.

The Museum itself is a little overwhelming - you could spend weeks there, I imagine, and not see everything. I decided I wanted to continue walking so had a shortish visit to a gallery showing a snapshot of artefacts collected (stolen?) from the 17th to the 19th centuries - shelves full of Greek pottery, Egyptian hieroglyphs and artefacts from the Pacific and Australia, among many other things.

Next stop was lunch and then a wander through Fitzrovia and on to Marylebone - past this gorgeous church (whose name escapes me) and this self-effacing shop...

I was in search of Daunt's Bookshop - said to be the most beautiful bookshop in England! Indeed, it was lovely - stained glass windows, beautiful wooden book shelves and a vast and incredibly enticing collection of books arranged by country of author or subject. I bought just one, for the plane journey home!

I then continued on foot back along Oxford St, down Regent St (in full colours for the Royal Wedding) and on to Trafalgar Square.

There I had a little wander in the church of St Martin in the Fields (how's that for an entrance?).

And checked out the wildlife.

I then walked back through Covent Garden, and all the way home to Islington, past King's Cross-St Pancras looking more like a castle than a train station.

All in all, a lovely London day, and a good training walk!

On Friday, I headed up to Oxford to visit a friend who is studying and working as Assistant Chaplain at New College, and also to revisit some old haunts. It was just lovely to see some of my favourite places again and to enjoy Oxford in the spring - the wisteria in full bloom, Christchurch meadow full of flowers and ducklings, and a splendid Ploughman's lunch at The Lamb and Flag.

This is Worcester College (it has it's own lake!).

A gorgeous day culminated with a visit to the garden of Holywell Manor - the graduate accommodation I lived in for a year.

And Evensong at New College, led by Susan and the New College choir, followed by a very splendid dinner at high table.

When Mum and Dad visited me in Oxford in 1991, Dad took a photo of Mum and me in the New College cloister. Here's the 'after' shot!

Today I had my last 'gig' in England - Silence in the City at the Westminster Cathedral Hall. It felt like a really good day - a real depth of listening in those present, and I feel as though all that I've been doing and the deepening of meditation practice bore fruit in the spaces between us today. It's been an extraordinary privilege to participate in the various retreats and events over the past 3 or so weeks, and a really enriching time. Tomorrow morning, early, I head off to Heathrow to join Neil in Toledo - for a week of adventure on the Camino!

Our joint venture will be posted on Neil's blog - Turn to Wonder - if you'd like to follow along!

Shalom,
Sarah

London early morning

I have woken in good time for the 7am morning meditation (hasn't been the case the last couple of mornings!) so I am enjoying a cuppa beforehand, sitting at my desk.

I must say, I love this desk and its outlook through a paned glass window straight into the canopy of the tree outside - there's something really soothing and conducive to writing about the gentle stirring of the leaves in the breeze. This morning looks a finer day than yesterday - blue sky at least, even if still cool.

I am thinking of our community of Benedictus as I prepare to meditate this morning.

With love and blessing,

Sarah

Derby, Brighton, London

It's been a full few days on my English 'tour' - with much to enjoy and think about.

On Friday, I caught the train up to Derby for a combined conference of the UK national community and Meditatio Seminar on the theme of Contemplative Christianity. The main speaker was Professor Bernard McGinn from the University of Chicago. He is a well-known and extraordinarily learned scholar of the mystical or contemplative tradition in Western Christianity, and his talks were rich and yet evidently grounded in the lived experience of prayer. Unfortunately, I have no photographs of this part of the trip, since I was inside a conference centre for most of it!

I gave two workshops on the Saturday on the theme of Being a Contemplative Church, and was able to share in some detail about our life at Benedictus and what we are learning about the vocation of a contemplative church. People were very interested and engaged - lots of questions and wonderings about the possibility of developing like communities in different ecclesial settings, and so that was encouraging and thought provoking.

I returned to London on Sunday afternoon, and then on Monday caught the train to Brighton on the southern coast. Here's the sea-front merry-go-round just off the rather grey shingle beach!

I came to visit Rev. Philip Roderick who is the founder of another contemplative group called Contemplative Fire - established under the auspices of the Anglican church's Fresh Expressions movement in the UK about 15 years ago. Contemplative Fire describes itself as a 'dispersed community of Christ at the edge, inviting us into transformative awareness', and it runs events and services in conjunction with churches (I think mostly Anglican) throughout the UK. We arranged to meet to talk about the whole notion of contemplative Christianity and had a great conversation and sharing of perspectives.

Afterwards, I met with a friend and member of the WCCM who lives in Brighton and who showed me some of the sights, including the famous Brighton Pavilion - built by the Prince Regent (later George IV) in the 18th century as a kind of folly for himself and his court.

The outside looks Mogul influenced - apparently the inside is more Chinese inspired!

We wandered a bit in the Brighton lanes, where there are lots of jewellery and antique shops, as well as an over the top (perhaps inspired by the Prince Regent) chocolate shop. These, would you believe, are highly decorated chocolate cakes - with a rather improbably tropical seaside theme - octopus, mermaid and flamingos!

After that, came a walk along the promenade,

with views of an extensive windfarm out to sea,

and of course, the appetising looking Brighton beach itself!

Back in London last night was the Meditatio event called One in Christ: Why do LGBTQI people feel rejected by the churches, at which I spoke with James Alison. It was a great evening and a privilege to share the event with him. Here we are afterwards.

My time here is nearing its end - I've got one more major event to do - Silence in the City at Westminster Cathedral Hall on Saturday - and before that on Friday, I go up to Oxford to visit some old haunts. I'll keep you posted!

One last link - a picture of me walking on Hadrian's Wall 10 days ago, taken by Father Laurence and featured on the WCCM Daily Wisdom page recently!
https://us4.campaign-archive.com/?u=c3f683a744ee71a2a6032f4bc&id=30d55c75ea

Shalom,
Sarah

London and Bath

I've been staying in London at Meditatio House - where are small community of two oblates with the Christian Meditation community lives permanently and hosts guests and visitors (like me) who visit from time to time. We're in Cloudesley Square - a lovely quiet spot in north London, in which the wisteria is trailing over door-frames and it's been possible to sit out in the garden in some lovely warm spring weather. I'm with Elba, from Colombia, and Henriette, from Holland, is taking the photo.

I've spent most of my time inside at my desk, wrestling somewhat with the talk that I'll be giving next week in London, at an event with James Alison. It has been a bit of a wrestle, but I think it's finally coming!

Then yesterday I travelled to Bath on the train and gave a talk at an evening organised by the meditation community there. I walked from the station up the edge of the lovely River Avon.

To my surprise, about 100 people came to the talk. My topic was 'Contemplative Christianity for the World Today' with significant reference to the experience of Benedictus! There were lots of questions and interest, and it was great to have the chance to articulate some of what we are learning and what it might mean for churches in the future.

This morning, I got to sightsee a little in Bath - and what a beautiful city it is. This pub was across the road from where I was staying - I took the shot in honour of Neil on Camino, trudging through Moorish Spain!

Next stop was Bath Abbey - originally a Benedictine foundation from the 8th century.

On the facade by the main door was something I've never seen before on a cathedral - a depiction of Jacob's ladder, and the 'angels ascending and descending' (though mostly they seemed to be ascending!).

Lots of memorial inscriptions on the walls and the floor (under which the 'remains' lie) - this one took my fancy particularly.

Inside, there was the most glorious fan vaulted ceiling.

And then, of course, I was off to take the waters - the Roman baths.

A small amount of Jane Austen nostalgia ensued - a visit to the Pump Room, the Assembly Rooms and the famous Circle of beautiful Georgian townhouses!

I'm now safely back in London - and tomorrow head up to Derby - where there's a weekend seminar on Christian mysticism, at which again I'm giving a workshop on our experience of being a contemplative church.

I send my warm greetings to you all for this coming weekend, and much love.

Shalom,
Sarah