Authentic and Courageous

Courage and authenticity are two of the key values of the church I belong to.  Fortunately I count them as two of my own values.  In my planner as part of One Little Word project I have this:

Over the years I suppose I have been courageous.  I wrote about it in a blog post in 2017: RISK.

However looking back on the 3 months of anxiety I think God was talking to me about being courageous, but in the sense of being more vulnerable and letting people in.  Taking down the barriers that I have surrounded myself with.  Taking off the mask of 'fine'!  It's been a tough journey but I have to say it has been so worth it.  Being vulnerable is part of being authentic.  Showing the whole of you not just the bits that make you look good. 

During this time I have found real depth in friendships that I value more than anything.

So in light of this, I'm going to share a poem I wrote in January as part of the online zoom workshops I take part in. We were asked to write a poem from a child's point of view where something happened to change their perspective.  This was an incident when I was 10 and it severely influenced how I felt about childbirth which led to pre-natal depression when I was pregnant 27 years later.

Bordon Hill
The view from the top of the hill
went on forever. But turn around
and one small single-storey home
sat in the midst of an acre of
meadow flowers and orchard trees.
Chickens pecked at fallen plums.

The child, too young to have been kissed
romantically, wandered through the
fruit laden trees. Glad to be out
of the city as she recovered from
the kissing disease. Her grandparents’ home
a place of solace and recuperation.

And yet, there was still medicine to take.
Large pills for so small a throat.
Forced to swallow despite her cries.
'Ungrateful girl. Your mother almost died
in pain and labour. And you won’t ease
the worry of your health'. 

On the same zoom poetry day we were asked to write about time passing.  This happened in August 2022.

Passing
The doors slid open
to welcome the man
to A&E.
And closed behind him
shutting out the world
shutting out his wife.

Her phone rang.
'Go home. Go home and wait
for me to contact you.
Go home and wait'. 

Lunchtime passed but no food
passed her lips. She was home
and waiting. Time slowed
and still she waited.
The phone rang.
A woman’s voice. A pause.

She waited.
'Your husband’s had
a heart attack and surgery'.
Another pause – lingered long.
'You may visit now'.

I sincerely hope you have people in your life who you value and who value you - 'warts and all'.

Thank you for joining me today
Bernice

Contemplating friendship

Last Friday was one of those glorious late summer/early Autumn days with baby blue skies and sunshine.  The views were clear and we could see for miles as we drove through the Cotswolds.  The light was beautiful on the yellow stone of the buildings.  I couldn't take photos as I was doing the driving but I did manage to take one when we arrived at our destination.

We were on our way to a funeral.  I don't think I've read a blog post about a funeral and I have certainly never written one before.  It was David's funeral - a lovely man who we had only met twice.  Once for dinner in a pub near Lacock and once for a curry in Redditch.

However, I have been friends with his wife Helen since January 2014 when I sat next to her at the first session of Hilary Beattie's Make It Personal at The Bramble Patch.  In the five and a half years we've been friends, we have met at various workshops and occasional meet ups for coffee.  Considering we live 90+ miles apart I think we've done pretty well.

As I drove it gave me plenty of time to think about friendship, social media and technology.   Social media tends to get a bad press, but I find that if I block nastiness then it stops appearing.  My contact with the Hopper Juniors is very much based on technology - WhatsApp, Instagram and FaceTime.  With Helen most of our conversations have been via Messenger, with the occasional email.  It has been a great way to keep in touch especially this year as David's health deteriorated.

So back to the funeral and why I am writing about it.  David had been involved with Morris Dancing for many years, and as is their wont the Morris Men came out in force - both dancers and musicians.  They danced the hearse to the chapel.

This gave such a lightness of touch to what became a great celebration of David's life.  At the end of the time in the chapel the Morris Men danced.

The dancing continued outside the chapel.

And then we all moved to the pub by the side of the river.

There was food, drinks and a gallery of photos of David with his family and friends.  There was a lot of reminising amongst the dancing friends.  They also entertained us with more music and dancing.

A very touching moment was when Steve danced a solo in honour of David, in front of Helen. The jig is Princess Royal and was one of David's favourites. Steve was David's best friend and visited him every week both times he was in hospital and every week since, to play music with David to begin with and for him, once David slipped into unconsciousness.

Which brings me back to the subject of friendship.

Friendship is so important.  The support of our friends sustains us and encourages us.  We may not meet up 'in the flesh' very often but the occasional phone call, text, or other techy message is all it needs.  We do not know sometimes what that sign of being remembered means to the recipient.

And yes I know it's difficult when someone is caring for another with a terminal illness.  I found that when Helen told me about the latest sad report and I had no words, I would say just that.  'I have no words, but you know where I am if you need to talk.'  I didn't want to say things just for the sake of saying them.

We are living in times of division and unpleasantness but we don't have to dwell in it.  I have tried not to watch the television news for a while now, and I don't read much of the daily newspaper.  My Facebook and Instagram feeds are full of art, photographs and textiles.

Family, friends and strangers need our smiles, our encouragement, our respect.  When I was growing up one of the characters in the children's story The Water Babies was Mrs. Do-As-You-Would-Be-Done-By.  And a troll was a character living under a bridge in the 3 Billy Goats Gruff story.  I was also brought up with the mantra 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all'.  This is what we need right now.

Friendship and kindness.

This is what I saw amply displayed on Friday.  Of course you don't have to dance if you don't want to.  Smile at strangers! As you drive, let someone in to the line in front of you!  Help with directions for someone who looks lost!  Send a text to someone to tell them how much you appreciate them!

Above all, change the atmosphere around yourself.  Let's change the world, one kind act at a time.

And to finish.  The final dance at the pub was a repeat of Bonny Green that the dancers had performed in the chapel.

Thank you for joining me today.
Bernice