The power of the net

Following on from my recent confession about Krispy Kreme donuts, a guy from the church happened to be in Birmingham where there is a UK Franchise. This wonderful man brought a superb selection of Krispy Kremes, enough to satisfy any craving, all the way north of the border into Scotland. Stuart - you are a star. You will be well rewarded in heaven! Fortunately it also happened to be the day of the church bunny hunt, so I can walk off all those extra calories hunting for bunnies.
For me, Stuart's was a pretty big act of kindness. But in every day there are countless small acts of kindness that folk perform for us and many loving things we can do each other. And, suddenly, the world looks completely different.
They say be careful what you wish for - I'll be careful what I blog about!

Do trees scream?

The Presence of Trees
by Michael S. Glaser
I have always felt the living presence of trees
the forest that calls to me as deeply as I breathe,
as though the woods were marrow of my bone
as though I myself were tree,
a breathing, reaching arc of the larger canopy
beside a brook bubbling to foam
like the one deep in these woods,
that calls, that whispers home

The forest just along the road from us has just been harvested. Its the first time I have witnessed this and I found it really disturbing. In around 3 days the whole forest was cleared. The explanation given was that the trees had reached the end of their 30 year life span and had to be removed. The trees left standing are ones that have grown up naturally and the forest apparently will be replanted. But, meantime, the landscape seems desecrated - although folk living in the houses behind the forest will, for the first time ever, have a view of the river and the hills beyond.

Folk view things in many different ways and a blessing for some is a bane for others. The reminder that whole landscapes can be dramatically changed for ever in moments is of course a reality that many folk live with and experience every day.

Techno processing?

I learned a new term today: "defragmentation".

I was leading a school assembly, showing a couple of video clips and my laptop was being really slow. A colleague commented that I needed to defragment regularly. Well, I'm familiar with dermabrasion, exfoliation, de-epillation but defragmentation was a new one on me. I discovered it means something like bringing files together so that the processor is not having to search all over the disk for bits - well at least, that's how I understood it with my woman's "need to know" brain.

I wondered if some of what we humans need to do when we're processing - with the help of water or not - is in fact the opposite of defragmentation. I suppose that would be fragmentation. But, if we could separate all those things that have become lumped together in our minds, think how freeing that would be, how differently and freshly we'd be able to look at things. No stereotyping, no presumptions. But clear, uncluttered views. I can leave the computer on overnight while it defragments. I wonder if my mind could fragment while I slumber. Oh well, its just a thought for processing...

Processing without the frizz

I learned today that one of the best ways to process things in our minds is while swimming. Time constraints make that a bit difficult for me right now. Not so much the swimming time but the time taken to dry and straighten hair! But then I learned that it is more the presence of water that's important. So walking by water, as I do every morning, is just as effective. (So, too is a long shower or soak in the bath). I certainly use my morning wander to sift things in my head. And, around this part of the world, there is no shortage of water or of beautiful water side places to walk. I should be good, then at processing stuff. Perhaps I just need more practice. And all the beautiful distractions found around the water's edge are, I'm sure, all useful processing tools. Reflecting on the sheer wonder and majesty of creation lends an edge and a useful perspective to all of life.

Risking welcome - Welcoming risk

This welcome sign is built into the entrance pillars of Covenant Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, North Carolina.

A good sentiment but difficult to live with. Often the ideal rather than reality. Many churches struggle to be truly welcoming places because welcome involves risk. It involves acceptance of those who are "not like us". It involves recognition of other ways and other standards that we may well find alien. Above all it involves acknowledging that we may in fact be the aliens. Whatever, we are all God's children, accepted, loved and welcomed. To be as extravagant as the God we serve demands that we take the risk and discover what it really means to welcome all God's children - especially those who seem like strangers.

Krispy Kremes and Cracker Barrel

I love Krispy Kreme donuts. I just haven't found an equivalent in the UK. Any journey is bearable if it begins with a visit to a drive thru' Krispy Kreme outlet. A 10 hour drive from South Carolina to Indiana was only bearable thanks to a supply of Krispy Kremes and regular stops at Cracker Barrels for savoury stodge. Food is such a comfort at times. My state of health can be assessed by my particular food intake. Mostly, when I'm under pressure, the high carb, high sugar intake prevails - quick doses of reassuring energy. But, rake that pressure up a notch and the whole idea of food becomes abhorrent. The chilled out me eats sensibly and makes healthy choices. Right now, I must be somewhere in between, craving Krispy Kremes - but eating Tuna salad instead. Some of our friends from the States will be visiting with us over Easter. I hope they can find some vacuum packed KKs and satisfy this crazy Scots woman's longing. But then again, the company of good friends means I'll be well chilled any way. Can't wait!

Hebridean storm

You'd think that on an island, you'd see weather approaching for miles. Yet this storm crept up on us, caught us unawares on the beach and, within minutes we were drenched as the clouds unleashed their fury. The beauty of isolation means that there is nowhere to shelter. We stood in the middle of this road, soaked to the skin, in fits of laughter. What else was there to do?

Sometimes we're blissfully unaware of trouble looming. Until it overtakes us. Even when there are signals all around we can fail to pick up on those. The truth is, we can't keep on running. And isolation leaves us exposed. When we can't run and we can't hide, its good to at least be able to share. Especially when laughter isn't an option.