Reaching for the long knife

Look at it, it is hideous, a carbuncle in a canteen of cutlery, waiting to be caught up by some unsuspecting hand, invariably my hand. I prefer my knives .. hmm ... regular, uniform, never to outshine, out-cut, out-perform and especially not 'out-heighten' the other knives.

Where did it come from, this festering tool of eatery, this odious pustule of tableware?

We think it belongs to someone else who left it here, well can that someone else please own up and come and collect it NOW! Please!

So what is my particular problem with this particular knife? Intrinsically it is fine, in amongst its own kind it might be considered 'normal' but here it stands out as different because.. ahem it is different.

During my MBTI (Myers-Briggs) training I learnt that MBTI works on an understanding of a theory by Carl Jung that we are a psychological 'type' and we live our lives understanding and developing the aspects of who we are. This might be about how we make decisions, gather information, live in the external world or where we draw our energy from. The point is that when we choose to operate  one way there is a choice that we don't take, a way that we could use, and others use effectively, but we choose not to, most of the time.

I want you to stop reading and do something: cross your arms, now uncross them and cross them the other way. People usually describe the first way as: easy, normal, natural, comfortable and the second way as 'I had to think about it', unnatural, difficult, weird etc. The point is that both ways are acceptable and both ways are as good as each other, yet nearly always we will choose one way over the other, there is something innate that makes us choose acting one way over the other. The many 'short knives' in my canteen of cutlery represent the frequency with which I operate within my preference.

This 'preference' is true for most of the time, the reality is though that there are times when we do choose 'the long knife' and Jung says we often do this in a stressful, or difficult situation; when we are outside of our comfort zone and our normal mode of operation seems not be effective - his technical term is 'in the grip'. In the sea of usual responses something happens that jolts us into an 'atypical' reaction, the 'long knife', alien and awkward thrusts itself towards us and we grab it and wield it often immaturely and without precision.

Much of my training has been to allow me to understand myself, of course that 'long knife' in its 'home' canteen of cutlery would not stand out itself but would be quite normal for another, the issue, for me, is in its difference.

I am also aware that the 'long knife' can be used to do untold damage or to spread jam and clotted cream on a scone, the same knife.

       ... but I still hope somebody takes it away and puts it back where is should be!

Homeward Bond

On Thursday, 4 days after the half marathon, I got on a train to Exmouth and ran home. From my previous post you might remember that the Great West Run was about getting ready to run further not faster, I wanted to get out and see if I had ten miles in my legs and the only way I could get my head around it was to force myself, to literally run home.

Robin Harvie in his book 'Why we run:a story of obsession' presents his whole thesis on the inbuilt desire we have to return to a place of comfort, safety and familiarity. As he trained for increasingly long distances he found that the only way he could persuade his body to continue was to give it a goal - going home.

Paul Simon's evocative and poignant song 'Homeward Bound' Full lyrics eloquently tells, in words and music, of a longing for resolution, it reminds the traveller that there is a disconnectedness with that which satisfies, comforts and sustains as long as we are away from home. The language he chooses tells of that dissatisfied dislocation, his journeying is articulated as endless, mediocre, strangers, emptiness and lacking in comfort - his wish and resolution is a return to that which is known, that which is home.

I do hope that Paul Simon won't sue me for my changing of his masterpiece of longing, removing 'u' from 'bound' reminded me of this innate, intuitive and instinctive pull within each of us to return; indeed a 'bond', much like elastic, stretched away from its source, that longs to be let go, pinging back to its origins.

This week amidst the many good things that have happened there have been two points of great sadness: I learnt of the death of my brother-in-law's mum, 'Val' and also  'Ada', a long standing member of my church at Wonford. Both had been ill for some time, both in many senses were expected to die yet the shock and the loss so heartfelt, not least to the families left behind to grieve.

As a minister, people often make assumptions of my beliefs, often in times of loss people talk of loved ones being 'reunited in heaven' or 'looking down on us', heaven has been characterised in many ways and although I will not say these characterisations are wrong this is not the language I would choose.

If you will excuse the rather crude analogy, it seems that from the moment of our conception we are on an elastic band stretched out over our 'three score years and ten', or however long we get; and one day there will be a 'ping' and the lives that we live will end, there should be no shock in this. Might it be that our 'pinging' is a 'back to' and the place we go back to is 'home'; that as we die we are drawn back into that which created us, that conceived us, that imagined us before we were born Psalm 139:13. That all the striving and strangeness and emptiness and aching that Paul Simon articulates so eloquently is resolved in returning to the place of comfort, of laughter, of peace and love when we are truly 'at home'.

My prayers are with the friends and families of Val and Ada over these coming days. When I ran from Exmouth on Thursday my phone temporarily broke, no music, my usual companions, no idea how fast I was running, or what the time was. That sense of 'disconnectedness' from the norm gave me time to, think, to pray, to reflect on 'journeying' as I ran towards my destination - 'Home'.

Failure

When I (re)started this blog in April I set out my stall with a number of words and ideas that I might return to to reflect on further. I knew, at some time, I would have to consider 'failure' and now seems a good a time as any to deal with it.

First of all I am a failure - I didn't win, sorry to disappoint anyone.

I completed the Great West Run in 2 hours and 19 minutes, I hoped to achieve 2:10 or beat my best of 2:16. I failed to get to my goal, I failed to get to my pb. Then come the excuses: it was a wonderful day, I have the sunburn to prove it, but very hot to run in. I think I also drank too much beforehand and had to make a quick stop at Pinhoe Road Baptist church much to the surprise of the steward who escorted me to their facilities and back on my way. This definitely made a difference to my time. I actually took twice as long as the winner, but maybe those are excuses.

I suppose before I assign the word 'failure' to my run or indeed myself I really should reflect upon what it means and what it is I am trying to achieve. I will never forget Mark Wakelin talking about 'the language of strategy' and his distinction between 'outputs' and 'outcomes'. Essentially outputs are within your direct control, outcomes are more reliant on others. It means you can set your goal 'outcome' and then undertake a number of activities, outputs, in order to try to achieve it.

Actually my goal (outcome) was never to win the race, nor was it to beat my PB or do 2:10; my goal is to see what it is like to train for a marathon, to do the things that a person needs to do to prepare themselves for such a thing, various outputs: regular training, diet, sleep, cross training, increasingly longer runs, mental prep, discipline etc. These are my outputs, and within my control and I am doing these things!

My goal is not to run faster but to run further, I am getting better at this, it is hard, but I can do it and I am trying.

To say that I failed in any way this weekend is actually a complete misrepresentation, maybe real failure is not even trying and that is not me, I really am trying. I actually came 1399th and they even gave me a medal. Below is a picture of four of us from the good number that entered from Wonford Methodist church, all finishing. May I pay special tribute to my good friend Bill Noronha, who despite painful cramps and only recently taking up running finished his 13.1 mile journey - Bill you are amazing and an inspiration.

                                                             Susan, Bill, Mark, Sharon


So I have dealt with failure. I will set out my goal (outcomes) and not make them too low, and I will do my part (outputs) in attempting to achieve them. Perhaps most of all I will stop assigning the word 'failure' too readily , for its fear does not lighten the load. Instead I will take that which is within my grasp and keep applying it, keep trying, knowing that in doing so, failure is, by my new definition, impossible.

Human contagion

It seems that so many things are coming together in my life at the moment. I have my Myers Briggs exams on Friday where I present my field work research, undertake an observed assessment and have to get 80% in a written exam. I think I am ready but a little anxious too.

This weekend is also the Great West Run with Sharon an myself using it to gauge and improve our fitness as we continue to prepare for the marathon. I think I am ready for 13.2 miles and if I did it in 2hr10min I would be delighted. Sponsor us here

The Methodist Circuit I belong to has also started to look at the books of Acts, in its preaching, bible studies and in a daily pod cast throughout May View here I recorded mine in a secret location last night for transmission on Monday 7th.

Also I have been reading Natasha's (my eldest daughter's) dissertation, immensely proud and impressed as to her learning and application over these last three years.

And on Monday I gave blood, my 18th donation (I was a late starter),

I have entitled this 'human contagion' to echo a phrase used by Fr Richard Rohr as he described the way in which love becomes actuated and 'real' when it is offered and received in a way that is affirming and empowering reciprocally. There is something about where I am and the things before me and behind me that this resonates with, the things that we do, like seeds sown, are part of who we are, aspects that are 'offered'. We make these offerings, hopefully with good intentions, sometimes out of love, yet as we make them we can only hope that they will be received as such, that part of our 'doing' might be received in an act that is seen as love. A contagion.

I don't know where my 'doings' will end up, my blood should get some use if I don't get a cold in the next two weeks, my training should get me around Exeter and who knows beyond. The Acts Podcasts are 'out there' offered as an idea, but who knows if anyone is watching or they are of any use. Natasha's education, once completed, can lead down many roads, yet still full of so many possibilities. My Myers Briggs training similarly with its host of possible encounters, sharing a journey of learning with others as I continue to learn about myself.

So lots of things have come together, I 'do' because I enjoy 'doing' and because it is part of what I see as allowing me to become the best I can be, the way God shaped me to be. As I 'do' I hope two things, one that the things I do might be of use, received, caught, understood. Secondly and perhaps more importantly that the way I do what I do might be a contagion and one that is reciprocated. I think I am ready but maybe a little anxious too.

Dealing with the dark side

Let's face it, to misquote Morrisey 'some days are better than others', life is just like that. Sometimes circumstances, sometimes the people around us, sometimes the things that happen or the things we do mean the way we feel is affected and life can become tough. Sadness, fear, anxiety, guilt, anger, insignificance are all feelings and, if we are honest, all feelings we all have from time to time. As a result 'some days are better than others' and some days we would rather forget.


I have been thinking about Claire Squires quite a lot recently and today, the total money raised is now above one million pounds. Brian Draper's article for the BBC news magazine has been a helpful response for me  BBC News article here  as he tries to articulate how a nation responds to such a sad and seemingly meaningless loss. Those sponsoring Claire are 'joining in' with the narrative, becoming the story and re-articulating the story. The darkness, Claire's untimely death, is not eradicated yet a glimpse of meaning can be found, on a practical basis people will benefit from the additional work that the Samaritan's can now undertake and Claire's family and boyfriend will stand even prouder as they are upheld in a nation's outpouring of support. Feelings of grief and sadness and loss are not lessened but theses actions offer a glimmer of hope or light.

Earlier this week I went to visit Sister Ann Sullivan, she is a renowned expert of MBTI and Jungian theory and a most perceptive person. I was privileged to spend a few hours with her on a one to one basis and I have been given much to think about. Maybe for now just this one thought, Ann asked me what was wrong with anger, after me wriggling a bit and trying to answer she responded 'there is nothing wrong with anger it can be used to dig the garden you know', this is so obvious and yet so incisive, the feelings that we all have are not intrinsically wrong, even on those dark days, it really does depend on what we do with them. How might our 'shadow-side' or even our 'dark-side' be used in a way that is helpful and dare I say beneficial?

Inspired perspiration

This week has been a brilliant week. I joined a gym, completing 4 sessions, I have started my MBTI coursework and run the best part of 12 miles with Sharon on Friday. I have also finished reading Mary Webb's 'Precious Bane'.

The second week of my sabbatical is over, yesterday was my rest day from exercise, my 'sabbath/shabbat. Rest days are actually just as important as exercise days, they allow the exercised muscle to reknit so are essential in any training regime. I decided to take my rest day yesterday because I really wanted to watch the London marathon today and decided to train for as long as the men's race ran. The TVs at the gym allowed me to watch and plug into the sound system available whilst on the machines and listen to the radio on my phone whilst on the weights

I have to say that I absolutely loved it! 30 minutes warm-up on the bike and cross-trainer, followed by 30ish minutes on weights and core exercises a 7 mile, hour long, run on the treadmill using  Fartlek  I really wasn't sure how I would find a treadmill but have been advised to do at least one of my runs a week 'off-road' and it seems not only is it easier it is also better for the joints, I ended up doing some more quad work (these are the thigh muscles that I need to work on to help my knee problem) and finally warming down.

The two hours flew by and I could have stayed longer. When I think of how unfit I had become I am amazed - I am not sure that if 5 years ago you had told me that I would be doing what I am doing now, that I would have believed you. I am not saying that what I am doing now is impossible, for axiomatically it isn't, yet then it would have seemed so far out of reach that I would have considered it so unlikely I wouldn't have even tried, making it - effectively not attainable and therefore not possible.

Recently my youngest daughter, Kira, who is 15 has amazed me. A couple of weeks ago she decided that she wanted to get a little more in trim. She decided to go for a run and went twice around the park, around a mile. I, being the mean and heartless father that I am, told her that was next to useless and that she really needed to do a 30 stint,  she could walk some of it until she got better but 30 minutes should be the goal. She also decided to go swimming once a week and I (who knows nothing about swimming) told her that it would be useless to splash around in the pool for and hour and that if she was serious then she should do forty lengths (see I told you I was mean and heartless).

Kira is now running three times a week and has run 27 miles in the last three weeks, she has been swimming twice, forty lengths the first time and forty two the second. She just decided to give it a go and I am REALLY proud not just of the achievement but her application and discipline. REALLY proud. I am sure that I have inspired her, as Sharon also has, the unanticipated payback is that she has also inspired me.

About 20 years ago I watched the close of the London marathon and witnessed something that moves me and inspires me to this day. One woman, utterly exhausted and hardly able to stand, literally staggered the last few hundred metres to the finishing line, surrounded by stewards as she crossed the line. The utter strength of will of that woman has made an indelible mark upon my memory, her persistence to the seemingly impossible task, yet she did it. The memory of that woman still inspires me today.

I return to Bristol tomorrow, for three days, for further MBTI training, specifically about 'Shadow-side', dealing with that part of us that is less well developed yet, almost by definition, is brimming with possibility.

I wanted to be a lumberjack

I Visited 'gym' again today, his demands are becoming harder to meet, he introduced me to weights today, Dani (the very helpful sports coach) showed me how weights could make every part of me scream in pain whilst she smiled and said it was good for me. I have done quads, core, gluts (!) triceps, biceps, lower and upper back and shoulders - I do hope this makes me run better, even if it doesn't it really is an interesting experience. I have only been there three times and already I see that there is a sense of community, there are nods and smiles and a bit of occasional showing off. Some people take it easy, others seem to push themselves to the limit, one guy was there for an hour and I reckon he will go home and explain to his wife that he been down the gym for an hour, I reckon he spent at least 45 minutes chatting and doing no exercise at all! Today was particularly humbling because as I was trying to take in the various machines and remember settings and what each did, I was followed by a lady who, like me, was also learning, except she was blind, I must learn to grumble less and be thankful more.

Which brings me onto why I wanted to be a lumberjack, well actually I don't and never have. 'The Lumberjack song' Monty Python - 'The Lumberjack Song' Is a comedic song written by Monty Python first performed on 14th Dec 1969 (The day my sister was born!) various versions of the sketch start with Michael Palin, asserting that he didn't want to be a ....... (insert occupation) but instead a lumberjack, swinging from tree to tree'. It concludes with him singing 'I wish I'd been a girlie just like my dear papa', at this point the burly backing singers leave and his sweetheart departs distraught that her man is not the man she wants him to be. All very funny and comedic yet with a sense of poignancy for a number of the Monty Python cast were dealing with their own sexuality in a the country that was still coming to terms with the decriminalisation of acts of homosexuality only two years earlier.

As I was on a warm down this morning, cycling, at the gym I was watching a chat show with 4 women, (you can plug your headphones into the machine and listen), they were discussing a report which said that 70% of women did not want to end up the same physical shape as their mothers' yet 80% of them would, this was all down to their genes, the genetic make up had a hugely significant impact on their physical build. Most people (men and women) that I know do not want to be a lumberjack, however if they are honest most would like to be taller, slimmer, some parts smaller and some parts bigger. The MBTI theory I am studying, based on the work of Karl Jung, suggests that we are born with our temperament, it is innate, like the colour of our eyes, I might want to add 'God given'. The Psalmist says 'For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb' (Ps 139:13) but the next verse is really important 'I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, how well I know it'.

Maybe it is ok to want to be something, even a lumberjack, but perhaps more importantly we are to be thankful for who we are, with all the complexity and dare I say our perceived flaws. Maybe it is not what we are that is flawed but the way society batters us with advertising and 'flawless' celebrities that is the real issue.

For me and my sabbatical journey there is something about understanding who I am a little more, taking those raw elements, genetic and cultural and using them to be the most effective person I can be. Maybe for the church, that I am glad to be part of yet often frustrated by, it is time when we truly embraced people regardless of gender, status, colour, race and dare I say it sexuality. It seems to me that Jesus had this sorted before just about anyone, allowing each person he encountered, even those broken by illness, society's rules or even their own fault, to see that they were loved, fearfully and wonderfully made, that they were wanted, that they were of use, that they could take who they were and shape it into the person that God had made them to be.