I am pretty well known for stopping every couple of miles
when I am out running, whipping of a shoe, shaking it until the offending
article falls out and then carrying on – after replacing the shoe! Hardly any
other runners seem to do this, so I started wondering, is it that no stones get
in their shoes or that they don’t notice them, or even put up with them?
This morning during the seven mile run, in glorious sunshine,
two of those offending articles found their way into my shoe (2 occasions both the
right foot), the first time I did my usual, the second I let it stay there
trying to hold it in place in a way that caused the least discomfort. I am
really not sure which is best.
I have been a bit stymied in my thinking over the last
couple of weeks since Margaret Thatcher’s death. I was a child in the Thatcher
era, I remember the parody of Spitting image, I remember the Specials’ singing
‘Ghost Town, I remember ‘Loads of money’, Yuppies and redundancies, Ben Elton and the Young ones. I remember
painting a picture in school of all of the rubbish piled up during the bin men strike;
I also remember my dad getting made redundant time after time. I had a happy childhood
but some of those hardships just seemed so unnecessary, so unfair. My dad was
hard working and he did literally get on his bike to find work but sometimes
the work just wasn’t there.
If I admire Margaret Thatcher for anything it would be for her leadership and her
strength of mind; I found her ideology appalling, if only she could have
stopped for a moment and looked around at some of the harm her policies were
causing. Surely at some stage there was a sharp pain, in her conscience (or in my
analogy her foot) that would/should have caused her to stop for a moment.
Then of course there was all the comment from last week, the
rhetoric and the vitriol delighting and partying in her death. I too wished
that some of those had felt a sharp stone causing them to pause before
continuing. I am really not sure how celebrating the death of another person
can really bring any good even if we fundamentally disagree with that person.
So my ‘sharp stones’ have been allowing me to pause for
thought this week. In many ways I wonder if this is what prayer is, a time to pause, check
where we are and allow the lack of momentum and the silence to be a place to
take stock, listen to our heartbeat, the voice of others or the voice of God.
Maybe I have not been stymied, but waiting, pausing. Often pain is there for a
reason, to get us to stop, check where we are and listen before setting off
again.
What is ironic is that Margaret Thatcher’s individualism
actually encourages the free speech that brought much of the venom of last
week. Of course it is not just speech that is free: silence, pausing, waiting,
reflecting and praying is too. Sometimes it is good to be stymied., at least
for a while.
The stones in my running shoes will never feel quite the
same again.
