Watford Quakers - Sharing

Yearly Meeting 2010 – a personal impression

admin — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 16:36:13 +0000

‘I give thanks for laughter and tears, for sleep and silence’

This vocal ministry from the final session of this yearly meeting summed up the experience for me. There was much laughter, in and out of sessions, and joy at being together, meeting friends old and new, making and re-making connections with one another. There were also tears, and we give thanks for those too. Tears, because, try as we might, we fail to understand one another. Tears, because,try as we might, we can not see how we can give more. Tears of frustration, tears of release. I give thanks too for those who held those who cried, physically and spiritually.

When we open ourselves fully to the spirit in worship, we make ourselves vulnerable, we let go our defences to allow the spirit in and we risk tears, and anger, as well as inspiration and joy.

Considering whether to allow journalists into Yearly Meeting made us very aware of our vulnerability and our need to feel secure in worship together, in order for our business method to work. We found ourselves emboldened to ‘live adventurously’ and to ask that journalists be invited to attend Yearly Meeting in future. Next year we expect to consider sustainability and I personally hope we will make decisions that will be interesting enough to be reported in the media. In another session we also found much to encourage us in continuing to engage with the political process, at all levels, each in our own way.

It was good to hear of the positive progress that has been made towards legal changes in the direction of greater equality for same-sex marriages, and how this has been helped by the clarity of last year’s decision. Another delightful piece of news is that, for the first time since 1993, the tabular statement shows an increase in numbers actively involved in our worshipping communities.

In the closing session of the Meeting I felt myself strongly drawn to Isaac Penington’s words:

‘Our life is love, and peace, and tenderness; and bearing one with another, and forgiving one another, and not laying accusations one against another; but praying one for another, and helping one another up with a tender hand.’
QF&P 10.01

Stephanie Grant

The Experiement

admin — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 14:50:57 +0000

Yes, she would try. It would be enlightening, challenging, possibly upsetting, and, she hoped, also fun. She was tall, which was a good thing, and relatively straight up and down. Her hair was short – would it pass? and she took size 7 shoes. She would need to change her language, really think herself into the part. She had heard actors reading aloud and had been amazed at the way in which they could persuade you that they were a dozen different characters, with different background, moods and ages. Her NLP training should help with that.

She dressed carefully, binding her breasts with a long cloth, then putting on a borrowed suit and waistcoat, a shirt and tie, and her most masculine shoes. She drew a faint shadow round her chin and along her upper lip. That was hard, and she needed several tries with different eye shadows. The voice – maybe she would get away with a few gruff words? The less she said the better.

Then she began to think herself into the persona of this young man. She found herself taking longer strides, putting her hands in her pockets. She was aware of a strange feeling in her chest. She felt strong, confident. Was she caricaturing a man? Well, there were plenty of confident men in the world, and, after all, she was only being one man. She could choose what sort. Her experience with a lesbian affair should help. She knew what it was like, loving a woman. Suddenly she perceived herself protecting her partner, wanting to challenge the world that might hurt her. She had never felt like this before. She thought further. Could she behave to a man in a different way? Standing beside him, being like him, without any hint of any other element?

Then she found herself thinking in clichés. She might talk about football, even say ‘her indoors’. My goodness, she had a long way to go. Slowly, she took off the suit, the shirt, the chest binding. She was not ready. But she had seen herself in a different light, and it was empowering.

Lindsey March, 2010

Reflections

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 20:51:18 +0000

I’m gazing at the river, ceaselessly flowing.
She entices me, invites me in
Yet teases me with fallen leaves and eddies and whirlpools,
Floating bubbles, coots and moorhens and ducks,
Trying in every way to distract me.
And then there are the corkscrew trees upended,
The drifting clouds, the too perfect symmetrical swan.
If I’m allowed to pass through this beguilement,
I catch a glimpse of fish gliding over jewelled stones,
Diving in and out of roots, at home.

Jenny Senior, Feb 2010

Reflections in the lake at Woodbroke
Stephanie Grant

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

admin — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 15:40:41 +0000

Several years ago I received a birthday card, which had, on its front page, a picture of the wicked queen in the story of Snow White. Exquisitely dressed and with beautiful black hair, the Queen is asking the mirror in her boudoir: “Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the youngest-looking of them all?”

Inside the card, the mirror replies: “Cliff Richard”.

I have two mirrors in my flat and when I look into them, I see the same face I’ve been seeing since my twenties, but this is obviously an illusion. I have been mistaken for my man friend’s mother too many times and too many women have offered me their seats on buses.

So it’s about time I grew old gracefully.

Rosemary Woodland

The Wave

admin — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 12:31:22 +0000

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Extracts from our Triennial Report September 2009.

admin — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:06:28 +0000

One of our ongoing projects is a history of Watford Meeting and our researchers have unearthed the first report to monthly meeting following the recognition of Watford as an “Allowed Meeting” in 3rd month 1902. The meeting grew rapidly as a result of successful ‘poaching’ –

“This increase has continued up to the present time, and it has been accompanied by a steady stream of removals of Friends from London and other Meetings including one with the station of Recorded Minister.”

In 1903 a piece of land was purchased in Derby Road and a new Meeting House, with classroom and other offices was set up.

Jumping ahead 104 years, in 2006 we were again celebrating the completion of a new meeting house. [In 2009] we are [again] a growing meeting and we are grateful for this. Most of the newcomers come through personal contact and others come to find out what we are about and like the atmosphere. Watford continues to be blessed with an active children’s meeting.

Upholding group continues fortnightly, holding in the light any who request this. There is an active circle dancing group. Wednesday group meets twice a month for sharing, caring and ‘doing things’ together. A stimulating bible study group meets alternate Sundays before Meeting for Worship. We have a monthly shared lunch, sometimes followed by an invited speaker, sometimes discussion and, once a year, a walk ending at a convenient café.

[As we go forward the following areas need our attention:]

Outreach and the possibility of Quaker Quest: these plans are now a reality and what we do next depends on its outcome.
Environmental issues, as a meeting or in conjunction with other local groups: in terms of the meeting house itself we continually bear these issues in mind: in terms of the issue generally we need to be more focused.
Awareness of local and international needs and what we can do to meet them: again this is an area where we have probably made little progress and needs more thought.

PowerShift

admin — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 13:56:36 +0000

Power Shift gathered 350 16-25 year olds from all around the UK (and a few from abroad!), including several young quakers, between 9-12 October at the Institute of Education in London. The weekend focused on the development of personal stories: styled on Barack Obama’s grassroots election campaign. Essentially it involved getting people to talk about their personal journey to caring about climate change, and linking it to the ‘story of us’ and ‘the story of now’, in terms of acting immediately and collectively. There were also many very good speakers and workshops and stalls. We also performed a ‘flash mob’ dance on the monday, which was the highlight for me: you can see us performing on parliament square to the greenpeace activists who had climbed parliament the night before on the Guardian website here.

Owen Everett

Seed

admin — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 12:51:12 +0000

Being true to seed
Is long slow germination
Patience, not hard graft.

Ruth Shadwell

Two Bicycles

admin — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 12:48:31 +0000

Two brothers, Bill and Gilbert, pose confidently in this photograph I hold. They are showing us their new bikes, with their carbide lamps to show the way – in the dark they did not know was waiting for them.

In ten years time Bill was to “leap into cleanness” with Brooke and millions of others. He was killed on 1 July 1916, the first day of the Battle of the Somme, when 20,000 men were machine-gunned to death on that one day.

Gilbert did not “leap into cleanness”. He hesitated, remembering that he was a strict church-goer. That August, he cycled to church as usual, and was met by the vicar, who asked him if he was going to join up like his brother, and help defeat the dastardly Hun. Gilbert said “No, Jesus never carried a rifle . In fact he said ‘put up your sword’”.

The vicar, astonished, preached of duty, protecting your sister from the rapacious Boche, and, most of all, pointed out that God was on the side of the British, for had they not brought civilisation and God to the peoples of our great Empire?

The next time Gilbert went to church it was for Matins, the service he loved. It was a glorious morning, bedecked with the words of Herbert and the bible of King James. He saw ancient stone, carved lintels, a Norman doorway, the glowing glass, the square tower with its clock ticking away the time, the yew-tree sequestered in the comfort of the remembered past, and began to doubt. Should he defend this scene, this sweet especial scene, with the offer of his life?

He knelt on the worn hassock, bowed his head, and felt the church-born ambience flow through him. It was as though he floated there, suspended in a limbo of his own.

Then “How great thou art” echoed from wall to wall in the organ’s defiant voice.

He got up, walked down the aisle lost in a trance.

At the door stood the old vicar, with the good of his congregation at heart. His cassock was pure white, ironed by his wife that morning, on his chest two Boer War medals. He shook hands with each member of his flock, bending forward over each offered hand.
But when Gilbert came up, the vicar’s face changed, hardened. He withdrew his hand, sharply and obviously.

Gilbert stood stock still, speechless. He saw the others turning aside, avoiding his eyes. He felt empty inside, and so alone. Stumbling away, he knew what he must do. He must be wrong to think those conchie thoughts. His mind ploughed on.

Next day he volunteered, burying his doubts.

Later, he too was buried, at Paschendale. The vicar, when he read the paper, said a prayer for him.

The bicycles lay untended in the shed, never to be seen again.

Geoff Bould

Half-way up the Stairs

admin — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 23:22:54 +0000

I was not in a hurry. I was being careful. Everybody told me I should be careful – ‘at my age’ they added, very carefully. So I was very careful. But it happened none-the-less. I wasn’t doing any harm to anyone. I was minding my own business. But it happened.

The sun was out, shining benevolently on me and the rest of the world. I was coming home from the library, carrying a book on being careful in old age. How not to bend down, stand up, turn around, look up, look down, for fear of falling. Not much left to do, I thought. Nevertheless, I carried on, carrying my years lightly before me, and my past somewhat darkly. I wavered now and again, but that’s to be expected, I thought, when the stairs are steeper and the policemen younger. It’s all the same to me, I said, reprovingly, to myself.

Then I came to those steps. I knew them well. Stone they were, with a pretty fair handrail, much admired by all who passed by. Of course, they didn’t need the handrail in the first place. But everything was normal. The steps were dry, a slight haze lit the air; a cricket ball would swing, I thought.

Then, in a trice, a moment, a nothingness, I dived forward like an Olympic diver, hands out, perfectly poised for a racing dive. Only this time there was no water. Perfectly executed, I would have thought, if I could, which I couldn’t.

I picked myself up (there was no-one else to do it) and looked at my grazed hands as if to blame them for the fall. Then I blamed the steps, giving them a kick for their bad behaviour.

Then I blamed the sun and the shadow on the step halfway up. I had tripped over a shadow. How clever was that?

Geoff Bould

Yearly Meeting Gathering – another response

admin — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 20:38:51 +0000

The lazy days of summer! I went to Yearly Meeting Gathering. It was a huge undertaking, and you can imagine how much organization it took to get 1600 people accommodated, fed, looked after and occupied, with so many fringe events and special-interest groups. York Quaker volunteers had no chance to go to more than a very few events, they were busy answering queries and organising tickets. I believe next time certain problems should be ironed out, because of course this was the first year that the three events – Yearly Meeting, Junior Yearly Meeting and the Gathering – have been combined. The general feeling was that it went well and should be repeated. The ticketing was difficult and many people were unable to go to the events they would have liked, and it may be that that will be solved, but the reason was really that certain events were very popular and the rooms available were not big enough.

A rabbi who visited the gathering was very impressed with our business method. He said it hit him between the eyes. It was impressive that the sense of the meeting in such a big gathering was clear and was so ably interpreted by the clerks. Of course it was the civil partnerships, now called marriages, which took up most time, and we saw Quakers’ minds being changed by what we heard and what was said. But you might say that 22 years is a long time to come to such a conclusion about the matter. It was this long since the subject was first mooted at Meeting for Sufferings. The young people were suprised that there could still be those who opposed. The publicity Quakers received for their decision was I believe pretty positive, though perhaps there were papers which considered it immoral.

Lindsey March, August 2009

Yearly Meeting Gathering ’09 – Home Goups reflection

admin — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 13:22:41 +0000

Creating Community

Committed Relationships

Creating Connections

“How has it been for you to be in this network of the Gathering? What new connections have you made? What old ones have been deepened?”

“How have you experienced being connected to the Light durning these days? What new Light has come to you? What old understanding have you needed to re-evaluate?”

Quotes from Julia Ryberg’s address.

Yearly Meeting Gathering 2009

admin — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:26:03 +0000

A post ‘live’ from YMG, straight from the exhibition centre. Just to put down a few of my reflections so far, both serious and some not so.

Home groups

Co-facilitating a home group isn’t as scary as it sounds! First session went excellently, and I’m even able to still remember a few names, quite good for me. What worried me most was my co-facilitators identity, not because I didn’t know them, but due to knowing them very well.

Worship

The opening worship was really good, though to start with it seemed so slow to settle I wondered if it ever would.

Options sessions

Well, I didn’t have to dive into the scrum yesterday for tickets as I’d managed to have my whole afternoon booked to provide technical support. As it happened, I really enjoyed the workshop/talk I was in, ‘Create your own Skyspace’ which I knew a little about, but really hadn’t appealed to me from the initial listings. I though, I know all that, I don’t need to hear a talk, I’ve seen the DVD. However I learnt so much about the feeling of the Skyspace and so much background, such as there being more than one, actually about 40 exist. I also had an interesting discussion of what makes a space ‘Quaker’. If it had been called ‘Quaker buildings and spaces’ or even ‘Quaker Spaces’ I would have been the first to sign up.

Extras

Hopefully (technical issues aside) I should be watching ‘Age of Stupid’, the showings of which I have been repeatedly prevented from attending. Sadly there seems to be no wireless in the room, so can’t actually post this from here.

Most importantly things last: Food and Sleep

Food seems to be OK, being half-board I only get huge breakfasts and suppers. It is clear to see friends eating habits. The moussaka was emtpying fast, but the chicken with corn-fritters and the shepherd pie was almost untouched.

Sleep is varied, I have a lumpy mattress which is rather more springy than I normally have, so had a bad night, especially with the security lights at night, and thin curtains letting the light in really quite early.

Beachcombing

admin — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 10:32:41 +0000

The sound of the swish of surf on the shore
The song of the wash on shingle once more.
The seamless stretch of a soft sandy beach
Sun sparkling blessings on all she can reach.
A sad stranded starfish pleads up at me
I save it, spin it, back where it should be.
Some simple shells, superb colours and shapes
Bleached silver branches, scoured and raked.
Shiny stone spheres for soothing the senses
Massages my sole, my body untenses.
These secret treasures secure in my hand
By the hush and sigh of sea on the sand.
Such seductive sounds, swish, wish, bliss,
Shield deep sad stories of lives gone amiss
So much space and peace, such serenity
Listen to the sound of eternity.

CJP 2009

Exciting times for Watford Quakers

admin — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 21:04:09 +0000

I’m just off to Woodbrooke for a course on Quaker Quest, which we are doing at Watford as part of our outreach. We have formed an official outreach committee, and are instituting a mid-week meeting (which, as it sat in a circle rather than a square, felt really inspirational to me – or perhaps it was because there was a particularly good astrological juxtaposition of planets at the time.) A new person had looked at our website and seen it was on, and came. We are also doing an informal history of the meeting, based on interviews with the members, having a Woodbrooke-on-the-Road and the Quest. So I am feeling excited about being a Quaker. Somebody said to Sally, hearing our numbers, ‘You do punch above your weight, don’t you?’ YES WE CAN!

Lindsey March

my idea of Heaven

admin — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 09:30:22 +0000

Heaven is not in the hereafter.
Heaven is in the here and now.
Right Here. Right Now.

if i walk mindfully, i can glimpse Heaven.
if i peel the potatoes knowing the Presence of God, i can glimpse Heaven.
if i wash up, just wash up, i can touch Heaven.

when i sit with my friend and we truly listen to one another, together we take a small step into the Kingdom of God.
if i can sit with my enemy and we can truly listen to one another, together we can take a great leap into Heaven.

Heaven is a place of inward stillness, where the Presence of God is known, where all are aware of the Love of God.
It is not a quiet place, It is not an empty place, and It is definitely not a lonely place. Everyone is there, even if many of them don’t know it yet.
if i can reach out to anyone and everyone i meet and show God’s Love for them, together we can take a small step towards Heaven.

Stephanie Grant June 2009

All Age Worship – Co-operation

admin — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:13:22 +0000

Every few months we hold ‘All Age Worship’. At each of these participants young and old are given a choice of 3 to 5 activities, which may well have a co-operative side to them. They are normally arranged around a theme, such as ‘light’ or ‘new life’. Here are some photos from last week, which was on the theme of ‘co-operation’.

In life – the simpler the better?

admin — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 16:20:40 +0000

Some people find it easy to live simply. Others have it forced upon them, by, for instance, losing their job in the present recession.

Simplicity doesn’t have to mean deprivation, but for us in this civilisation it seems that we think ‘more is better’.

But Gandhi said, ‘Live simply, that others may simply live’. ‘ Live simply, and gain a lot of time’ also makes sense. Or – ‘live simply and gain more happiness and wisdom’.

Travellers find that cultures where people are poor are on the whole happier. Sometimes this is because people tend to help each other if they are poor; but we also find individuals in our own culture who choose a simple life and report that they have more peace of mind.

So – why don’t we all choose it?

Well, on the face of it, it gives more satisfaction to have choice, to take the opportunities we are offered. ‘Buy this and have more fun!’ ‘Go to this distant place and have more sun!’ And in certain circumstances having a choice may make all the difference to your life.

But too much choice leads to worry and possible dissatisfaction with the choice you have made; it takes up your time and distracts you from other things which might give you a deeper experience.

And life choices that depend on money often require you to spend more time earning it. Worse still, they can lead to endless greed, for bigger and better everything.

You have only to look at the present revelations about M.P.s’ expenses to see that some people will take whatever is available to them, without caring about having more than their share.

Quakers have a testimony about seeking simplicity. They also believe in equality. The two really go together. Where you have equality there is less cause for envy and conflict. Of course voluntary simplicity calls for choices to be made, sometimes continually, but they become easier if they are based on principle and belief.

Lindsey March, reprinted from the Watford Observer 5^th June 2009.

The Disillusioned Cynic

admin — Sun, 31 May 2009 19:50:48 +0000

This is it. Modern Life, it’s brilliant.
Long healthy lives; so many prospects;
I feel so content. OK, someone every second
Dies of stavation or disease.
But I’ve got Sky Plus.
Besides, they’re not my problem –
They’re miles away – I’m not selfish –
I suffer from Compassion fatigue.
It’s not my fault there’s so much suffering.
Why can’t rich people give money?
Why are they bombarding me with those
Emotive adverts?
Damn you, Oxfam, you’ve found my conscience
(I thought I’d lost it). I’m not being sarcastic –
There was me complaining that it was raining yesterday.
In some parts of the world it doesn’t rain all year.
Nice climate? Not really. I’m not religious.
How can they say God loves everyone the same?
“Yeah, one minute, Mum.”
Looking out the window…wish I could be that sparrow
So free
Maybe not, it’s got bird flu!

Owen Everett

Ideal Life

admin — Sun, 24 May 2009 20:37:30 +0000

What is my ideal life?
Is it a set desire?
I query this.
Am I but one person,
One personality with but one dream?
Never; as days and circumstances change,
So do ideals and desires
Ever alter.

Margaret Vaughan

Sacred Space at Celebration

admin — Sun, 17 May 2009 16:56:45 +0000

A space set aside for people to share something of their faith with others.
A time set aside to listen deeply to what others are telling us.
Amid the noise and activity of celebrating Watford’s cultures and talents,
a quieter place to share our deeper convictions, to meet on another level.
Many people come for their ‘slot’, do their ‘piece’ and move on,
we are glad to hear their contribution, share a taste of their faith and their lives.
Some people come in to learn about a specific faith group,
we hope they hear what they need to hear, the essential essence.
A few come into the space and stay, listen to one contribution after another.
The variety is fascinating. The depth that can be achieved in fifteen minutes, amazing.
From the first small event in West Watford in 2005, I was totally ‘hooked’ by the Sacred Space. I wanted to hear everyone, to just be there and truly listen.
It makes a long day, but I have been blessed by hearing nearly every item, every year.
And I’ll be back for more this year, there are great riches to be discovered here.
Will you join me? Those who listen contribute as much as those who speak, so come along in whatever capacity and see what you find.

Stephanie Grant

Come join us at Celebration on the 25th. See www.watfordcelebration.org for details.

Spring G20

admin — Mon, 11 May 2009 08:41:59 +0000

“So tell us, spring breeze, what can you
see growing at your location?”
Rich petals arrive in big cars
And weave through security’s dance;
Past police forks arresting the weeds
Who sprout from each narrow alley;
To pollinate what may become
This pretty fluttering graph of
Roots digging deep in water-pockets.

Rhiannon, April 2009

Cherry stones and the soul’s life

admin — Mon, 04 May 2009 06:31:54 +0000

I am a gardener, I think a lot about seeds, about plants, and that makes me think about the soul and its life too. Seeds, a cheery stone for instance, contains everything that is needed for the plant to come into life. There is an embryo root that longs to grow down into the moist, sweet smelling soil, and there is an embryo shoot that longs to grow up towards the light and the greening of the sun. We are like this. We long for light, sun air, to grow into ourselves, and we also long for the dark earth – need this to feed and anchor us in the world.

But think for a moment about a cherry stone. On the one hand, it contains everything that is needed for growth and yet it is also a parched place, a desert. A plant is full of water, perhaps 80-90% water, but the seed contains little. A seed can remain like this for many months or years, or centuries even, before the right conditions prevail and it can germinate. This dormancy is necessary, protective, preventing the seed from exposure when the conditions are adverse. Our souls can also lie dormant, locked in a place of great need, dry and lonely, and it can be a long wait until the moment is right for germination.

With seeds, the hard outer skin (the testa) has to be weakened, damaged even by periods of intense cold or by passing through the gut of an animal or bird, or be scorched by fire, and only then can moisture start to seep in and awaken the embryo. And we may have to undergo intense experiences, deprivations and sufferings, until we are weakened or opened, and then like a cherry stone that is cracked, the longed for moisture can enter. The Sufis talk of increasing our need. Our craving has to be immense, great enough that we cry out like a baby and call forth ‘milk’ from heaven. Illness calling forth the doctor, says Rumi.

So seed and soul contain all that is needed for growth to occur, but this process is no certain matter. A seed might be planted too deep and exhaust its food supplies before it can break the earth’s surface and generate its own food. So with the soul; there is no certitude, there is risk and effort, we often don’t know how far we will need to travel or in what direction. The only thing that often make us take that journey out of the cherry stone is the terrible desert within, our painful and insistent need, and perhaps also the distant memory of what awaits us – pink cherry blossom against a blue sky.

Rebecca Hubbard – Spring 2008

Guernica

admin — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 20:19:36 +0000

I am again a small boy
following the tram-tracks out of town
past the terminus to where a farm-house sits
wallowing in the welcome sun.
In front, a small field
a shrine to generations of a family farm.

In the field a swirl of young children
playing games with wild abandon
their cries echoing from dry-stone walls
a barrier between their past and this play.

They are the children of Guernica.
They saw their parents die in the stricken streets
bombed by blackbirds of death
excreting barbarity on a quiet town
before day began.

I watch from the wall as they run.
They do not show me sorrow – they could be children anywhere.
They have merged their past with forgetfulness
only retrieved when night swallows day,
allows their dreams to walk, and scream.

Picasso saw them in his painter’s eye –
and their mothers in the shaken town
as they gazed upward,
shading their eyes from a white sun
the sun that shines here, and now,
on us.

Geoffrey Bould, April 2009

Silence is Golden (My idea of Meeting)

admin — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 21:45:22 +0000

Weave your threads of silence over me
Only songbirds sing a melody
It’s lovely to be quiet:
To have some peace and quiet….

People bustle in and come and go
Somehow disturbance doesn’t show
It’s lovely to be quiet
To have some peace and quiet

The peace is over all
We wait to hear your call
The peace is over all

Paradise will come to us one day
Hear the music Martin plays with Ray….

How lovely to be quiet
Let’s sing of peace and quiet

Golden silence spreads around
We all start to center down
Let’s enjoy life for a while -
Think of things that make you smile!

Raymond Penrose wrote the words to music and titles by Martin Davies

All Age Worship – New Life

admin — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 21:13:19 +0000

Every few months we hold ‘All Age Worship’. At each of these participants young and old are given a choice of 3 or 4 activities, which may well have a co-operative side to them. They are normally arranged around a theme, such as ‘light’ or ‘new life’. Here are some photos of the art from our most recent one, which was on the theme of ‘new life’, some in progress and some finished.

Co-operative collage work

Making ‘Cheesy Biscuits’

Many hands working on beeswax sculptures

Crayon based artwork inspired by tulips

Beeswax sculpture, finished

All Age Worship

admin — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 20:00:40 +0000

Early in the day, bleary eyed, we eat our croissants in company. Sip our tea, pass the jam, chat about our lives and get to know one another in the things temporal, the ups and downs of our daily lives.

Dipping lengths of wick into hot wax, the young people teach the even younger, or older, how to make candles. They experiment together, mixing colours, using multiple wicks, rolling the still warm candles in their hands, creating together.

Alongside them others make greeting cards that will carry their thoughts to prisoners of conscience around the world. Perhaps, some one among us may do more than this, may go to one of the world’s troubled places and stand alongside the people there.

Still others are making decorations from last year’s cards. Cutting, stapling, smothering the results with glitter and glue. One or two are sitting quietly, looking, really looking, at the twigs and evergreen leaves, maybe drawing what they see.

Then there’s a flurry of activity as we all clear away. The room is transformed; the produce of the morning is in the middle and the chairs in a circle. We all settle in our seats and fall quiet. We go round the circle hearing briefly from each person and then settle into silence. Now we may be aware that we share something else too, not just our food, our daily concerns, our learning and our doing. Beneath and beyond and within all that, there is something more, that connects us and goes beyond us, and, if we listen, may lead us on to …

Stephanie Grant, November 2008

The Elusive Ideal of Equality

admin — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 16:18:48 +0000

The American Declaration of Independence of 1776 famously stated that “all men are created equal”. It proceeded to explain this as a religious truth from which political structures and ‘inalienable’ human rights were derived. At the time, both women and slaves were evidently excluded from the application of this principle and equality has proved an elusive ideal to live out both before and since. Probably as many have died in wars fought in the name of equality or against it, as have died in the name of religions.

This is a grim paradox when we consider that the belief in equality stems from a conviction that all people have equal spiritual worth. In the language of Quakers, all have “that of God” within them and the capacity to express this in the way we live together – not just in the values, creeds and causes we speak or write about. Such a conviction is often in conflict with the consumer culture and gross inequalities of the world as we find it today.

The corrupting effects of inequality on human relationships can be seen in the attitudes and behaviour that have caused the current world crisis as much as in the desperate actions of dispossessed people at the other end of the economic spectrum. Spiritually the ‘winners’ are as impoverished as the ‘losers’.

To “make the world a better place” we each have to recognise that the power of love is more sustaining and creative than the pursuit of an unequal share of the world’s finite resources. Despite our human fallibility, at some level we all already know this.

Simon Colbeck, reprinted from the Watford Observer

Wednesday Morning

admin — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 23:39:56 +0000

The morning stirs
and struggles to become a day,
accompanied by
engine thrum and the radio man .
I eat buns and apply
stoplight coloured lipstick
behind the wheel.
Kids on bikes glance in as they pass,
“Only someone’s mum” they say.
No magic allowed – it’s term-time
but it happens anyway.
Just above that bus, it’s going on.
The day wins through,
launches itself across our routines.
We don’t notice.
Seen it all before, seen it every day,
it takes big miracles to get us going,
levitation, water into wine, this -
it’s just another sunrise.

Lynn Overington

Quaker Cake

admin — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 19:19:14 +0000

The baker
selects:
fatty, sweet, fruity.
Mixing bowl
laid out:
all sit as equals.
Heat comes as
silence:
to gently raise us.
The steel point
of words:
testing the Meeting.
A handshake
cuts it:
serve results with tea.

Rhiannon, August 2007

A Cup of Tea

Chris — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:00:48 +0000

She starts with the chores at first sign of light
Then into the fields with basket strapped tight.
She picks all day long in the hot, hot sun
And is wearily glad when the day is done.
Basket heavy with leaves she has picked
Her fingers are sore and her back is ricked.
Her harvest is weighed and she’s paid a pittance
For her sweat and toil it’s poor remittance.
Home and the family meal to prepare
There’s very little – she’s too tired to care.
Evening over, she’s given her best
At last, thank God, she can lie down to rest.
Still she can’t sleep and she wakes with a fright,
Decisions, they haunt her all through the night.
Fees for the school or drugs for the baby
Should it be a little of each maybe?
And what does it taste like? She lies and thinks
These leaves she picks that they turn into drinks.
She dreams one day her children might know
Schooled and healthy, they could prosper and grow.
Who, on earth, can make her dream come true?
If we shop with care, then it’s me and you.

CJP 2006

Shopping

admin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 17:56:13 +0000

What do we need to buy this week?
Or should that be,
What do we want to buy this week?
Let me just see.

Fruit and veg first:
Bananas
Should they be ripe for eating now,
Or rather green to last the week.
Should I buy Fairtrade,
Or is organic healthier?
Do the fairtraders use pesticides?

Apples
That’s easier –
English ones are in season,
And taste the best too.
Shouldn’t be too many food miles
In a Cox’s pippin.

What else for variety?
Share the culture of our neighbours
And choose rambutan or mango?
Or think of the food miles,
And choose English pears?
Although seedless grapes are
very cheap this week…..

Vegetables now.
Carrots first.
Economy to save money.
Or organic with no need to
peel away the pesticide residue.
Organic taste better too.

Turnips? Leeks?
In season, low food miles,
Not organic though.
Still we can’t get everything right,
I’ll take some of both.

Baby corn?
It’s delicious and
Brightens a stir-fry –
But air-freight from Thailand?
It’s come a long way.
Has tinned food come by sea?
Does it use less fuel that way?

Now I’d better move on:
Coffee – that’s easy!
Fairtrade we all know
is what we should buy.
But I should use decaff.
There’s some that’s organic
but no promise that trading was fair.

Flour for bread needs to be strong.
But white for pleasure,
Or wholemeal for health,
Organic or stoneground or
Even unbleached.

Chill cabinet next
Low fat cheese would be best
For our waistlines, you know,
Though we do like a bit of
Blue Danish as well.

A chicken to roast,
Now let me just see,
Special Offer!
or corn- fed
or free-range – that’s for me!

And Branston to go with
Cold meat or cheese sandwich,
We all like a little –
But what’s this I see –
It’s made by Nestlé
Those poor third world babies
How can I buy this?

Now, is there anything else….
A little treat perhaps.
A bar of chocolate –
Oh good this bar’s fairtrade and organic!
At last an easy choice –
Milk or plain?

Stephanie Grant Feb ‘01

Window

admin — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 09:40:15 +0000

You look at me as if I wasn’t there
But my transparency is deceptive.
I can blur the truth when dirty or misted
And conjure up untruthful reflections.
I have many different forms:
ornate and decorative
(Useless for looking out of),
Simple (providing shelter from the elements)
And even partly-opaque
(Dissuading ‘peeping toms’ as you relieve yourself).
I am not just a view out, perhaps an escape from boredom,
But also a view in: an abuse of privacy
Making you a goldfish bowl.
At night you cover me up
As if ashamed of what you are doing, what I will reveal.
I am like thin air, but I am a collection of vague memories
(And cobwebs), faint images stored within my panes
You don’t realise this.
Look out.

Owen Everett

Things I love doing

admin — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 21:49:43 +0000

Waking up – to find it didn’t happen
Waking up – to find it really did!

Seeing the celandine, that little sun,
First to adorn the roadside in the Spring;

The greening of the hedgerows after rain;
The gradual blueing of the April woods;

Picking blackberries with purple hands,
And squirrelling them away for wintry days;

Wrapping the new-picked apples in their trays,
While reading irresistible stale news;

Playing silly games and singing songs;
Losing myself in stories, sharing poems –
And finding Rumi addicts on the way;

Following coincidences where they lead;
Daydreaming; letting be, just letting be…

Jenny Senior, December 2008

The Meeting

Chris — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 12:16:32 +0000

Here I am again, sitting with others around this ancient table.
There are a few shuffles and coughs, then quietness descends.
Some lose themselves in the beauty of the flowers on the table,
others have their eyes tightly shut.
One person gets up and takes a Bible or book to read.
Concentration resumes.

My imagination escapes,
The sunlight dancing with the shadows on the floor
become the joys and sorrows weaving through life’s journey.
The breeze rustling the trees outside the window
changes into the spirit of God wafting gently amongst us.
The sound of the children playing happily in the next room
turns into the songs of angels.

Look at the expressions on people’s faces,
serenity, expectation, pain.
I try to envelop them in peace and love from across the room.

I wait and pray, trying to empty my mind,
leaving room for God to speak.
The quietness changes into a thick, tangible silence.

Someone feels inspired to stand and speak.
They briefly pierce the stillness with their words.
I absorb their thoughts and mingle them with my own.
The loud silence wraps itself around me again.

The Elders are shaking hands.
The meeting is over.
How could an hour slip by so quickly?

CJP 2007

A Quaker Shop

admin — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 09:51:06 +0000

We have nothing in the window
We have nothing in the store
We have no thing to sell

We put books into the window
We put leaflets on the stall
We have something to tell

We ask you in to meet with us
To come and do nothing with us
We have something to share

When we meet in emptiness
Make a space in busy-ness
We find some other there

We put no price on what we give
Just offer a way to try and live
We have God’s Love to share

Stephanie Grant (October 2008)