Green woman fresh leaf
soil sprung floral finery
lives dies continues

Green child woder full
apple spider web rain bow
potential genius

Stephanie Grant (for writing group 16.5.12)

in the world but not of it
yet it is within us
and has already reported

Rhiannon Grant

Rhiannon has been a regular contributor to this site for many years – if you like her poetry you might want to visit her own poetry blog called Unprogrammed Poetry

His compost heap is carefully planned
to add health and vigour to his land
teabags, peelings and mowings of the lawn
bulked up with newspaper – damp and roughly torn.

His vegetables are a picture, laid out in row upon row.
This takes him many a happy hour and makes a lovely show!
His little house is warm and inviting
with solar panels giving warmth and saving money, that’s exciting.

Graham has it written down, a natural burial would be the ticket
in meadow, wood or leafy thicket,
so that when he shuffles off this mortal coil
his body will disintegrate and thus enrich the soil!

Teresa Maxwell, May 2012

Why all this upheaval, this uprooting?
Come down to the valley, where life is fertile;
Centre down; be still.
Be gentle and yielding!
Dare not to be ahead of others;
Be the valley of the universe!
The valley is whole and full.
The valley spirit never dies.

J.S., April 2012.
Lines in italics are from the Tao te Ching

Wait the wind,
the moment of gathering.

Love, warm, gusting wind,
fill sails, full billow,
to loose the deep anchor
that, riding grief swells, holds a soul here.

The trusted force that comforts those behind
now sweep heart’s boat on
to cross the line
that binds and bounds this life.

Sail on to more pacific streams.

Ruth Shadwell

Rising early we flock to the dharma hall, bowing greetings to one another. Thay leads the meditation with his presence. We are mindful of our breathing.

After breakfast the noble silence lifts and we greet each other with words as well as bows, gathering again in the dharma hall for today’s talk. Each will hear what they need to hear. On First Day, I bunk off and go to Meeting for Worship, we each hear what we need to hear. ‘The Kingdom of God is Here and Now.’ Thay mindfully wipes the white board, I see the lesson I need to see.

We sing practice songs as we gather for walking meditation. Hundreds of us walk together, mindful of each step, each breath. A child stops in front of me, entranced by the apple she holds, absolutely in the moment. I watch and learn.

In our dharma sharing group we listen attentively, sharing our responses and our questions. I listen and learn.

On our last afternoon, we prepare an entertainment to offer in the evening. Someone suggests a simple song and teaches us. We create a simple dance with it. It brings our group closer. We share a bar of (non vegan) chocolate.

I taste and learn!

On the last morning the five mindfulness trainings are transmitted to those who wish to receive them. We are in the dharma hall even earlier, each with just enough space to ‘touch the earth’. The ritual seems a strange place for a Quaker to be, but participation feels the right way forward. I prostrate and learn.

Everyone is sharing their dharma names. I seek out and thank Murray for his teaching and support, find a few minutes to talk with Marion, then we join her sangha’s walking meditation.

The campus has been our monastery for a few days, and has served us well, but ‘the practice begins when we leave the meditation hall’.

Stephanie Grant
Brightening Spiritual Light of the Heart
This account is based on a retreat led by Thich Nhat Hahn (Thay) at the University of Nottingham during August 2010. For an opportunity to join a similar retreat in 2012 see www.mindfulnessretreats.org.uk

The steps were greened with moss
curved by countless feet;
wind-fed trees quietly groaned
though no birds flew.
The door of close-grained oak
and dark uncertain years
seemed ready to repel
all those who came that way.

I turned the heavy key, and pushed.
Unwillingly, the door gave way
to let me through the high stone walls
built to guard the graves
against intruders such as me.

Simple headstones strewed the pathless grass
their very plainness a measure of their simple faith
which rejected all ministry between them and God,
the hard stone brooking no dispute.

These goodly men and women
came to God in those raucous days
when freedom from priestly rule began.
They owned their small farms, were called ‘statesmen’
in the time of great estates
giving them independence of thought
in life and now in this sanctuary
hidden in these torn hills.

Such a place as this
lets down a thread for me to grasp.

Geoffrey Bould

The river tumbles down the valley and makes waterfalls and pools all the way. The glacier which used to fill the valley has also left great boulders which have deeply scoured potholes in them where the water has swirled round. As children, we loved to ford the river. We felt so brave, so agile! We even, at our own waterfall, somehow managed to clamber across a gully which, had we lost our footing, would have meant us slithering down on to the great waterfall itself, and then, inevitably, over the top and into the deep pool below. Now the waterfall is much lower, less terrifying, but still I cannot imagine how we dared to stretch our short legs across that gully and land safely on the other side. We used to do what they now call ‘canyonning’ – a pity a welsh term for it isn’t used instead of the American one. We clambered up the sides of the waterfalls and the pools until we reached the ford where the little old chapel overlooks the junction of the two streams which unite there. There were mine workings in the cliffs at the edge of the river, and you could wade into them until you could no longer see the daylight, and could only hear the ‘drip, drip’ drip into the black water round your gumboots. Your voices echoed. It was always my brother who led the way, and I followed rather timorously, not wanting to be seen as a coward, but glad when he decided to turn back.

The cliff on the other side of the river, opposite the bottom of our garden, is steep and has shrubs clinging on to any little pocket of earth they can find. Above it the trees, small and gnarled sessile oaks, climb to the causeway built for the pit-ponies to drag the gold ore down to the beach beside the stone bridge, where my parents thought some industrial process must have been carried out. But perhaps the causeway simply brought the ore to the dirt road past the farm and out to the estuary, where boats carried it, I suppose, on to Barmouth and the sea. We loved the stone bridge, and, inevitably, played pooh-sticks from it. I think I seldom won. When the cloudburst came that reduced our waterfall to half its former size, the water knocked down the beautiful curved parapet, and the authorities replaced it with ugly stone piers and metal rails, and made a tunnel beside the arch of the bridge, to carry any future cloudburst. I expect children nowadays crawl through it. We played between the bridge and the waterfall, and my mother let us, though the pool would have been deep enough to drown in. Probably we had to promise not to go in. But we could play in the shallows, and we spent hours there, making dams and diverting the water, until the cold made my legs ache unbearably – growing pains, they said. My father built a coracle and it turned round and round in the pool and was fun for a day. Better, really, on the Thames, which was where it lived.

Since then, somebody has attached a great rope from an overhanging branch of the oak that grows out of the rocky headland by the waterfall, and you can swing from it and then land in the pool. A great test of bravery. One of my granddaughters managed it, the other could not bring herself to do it. I don’t think I should have had the courage had it been there when I was a child.

Some years ago our farmer neighbour suddenly took over the land by the river, gave it a hard surface and put his digger, his fish and chip van and a mobile home on it. Then he claimed that he would take us to court to say that he had ‘adverse possession’ of it, having used it for nineteen years without any protest from us. When he finally gave up, we put a fence at the edge of it, put seats on the land and plan to make a wild-flower meadow there. But we hope, and have said, that all our neighbours are welcome to go through it to gaze at the waterfall, as they, and we, have ever since I remember.

Lindsey March

Then here it is, a large deep pool into which the sparkling water flows, and flows down a tall escarpment, charging over it.

Swiftly, diamond dressed, the river speeds, slipping and sliding down this rocky incline. To be swallowed by the deep dark pool.

Playfully, people are waving and calling excitedly, climbing up on the red rocks. Behind the
waterfall, carefully, step by step, courageous they climb behind the glistening wet curtain! Emerging to be greeted proudly by loved ones.

How daring their crossing. How steady they were on those daunting rocks. And, what a prize, to have walked behind that lovely waterfall.

J Knight

CJP 2009

Sufi gathering
reciting ‘Allah, Allah’
we know God is Here

Samosas, sweet tea,
‘How did you come to Islam?’
We listen and learn.

lacking mutual words
some matters of the spirit
remain unshared

Stephanie Grant

Then there was a revulsion against it, as there was in the States about the careless slaughter of the great herds of bison. But the impression I have is that in the States it is still very popular and carries a weight of meanings about manliness. And still in this country it has a lot of tradition. People aspire to be able to afford to buy shooting rights, and of course there is fox-hunting. It is something I know too little about, but that doesn’t stop me from reflecting on it! Anyway, tradition there is, but it doesn’t appear to
refer to the prey. There does not seem to be any ceremony around them, around their killing or their eating.

It is very different among aboriginal people, whose lives are such that they are close to animals, observe them, and respect them. And the custom of asking permission of the animal to kill it and eat it seems to be widespread among them. (In Africa today such respect is not obvious. Again, I do not know how typical they are, but the poachers there treat animals with apparent brutality.)

Our standard attitude is ambivalent, sentimental, and not very admirable or rational. Of course there are different attitudes, from those who are vegetarian on principle, those who don’t like to think about it but enjoy eating meat, those who do think about it and make distinctions, often hard to justify but clung to, and those whose attitudes have changed because of their experiences.

Basically what I am trying to say, very confusedly, is that I find it very hard to reconcile being a predator, albeit at one remove, with my desire to be loving, peaceable and respectful of all life. And it is the same basic problem as the conundrum of why a beneficent spirit allows suffering. I wish I could share the matter-of-fact attitude of farmers and hunters – and carnivorous vets like my daughter – who manage to eat meat without guilt.

Lindsey March

At 8am communion (I’m an Anglican Quaker and do both) the vicar tells us that Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the world and an average Nicaraguan earns £1.30 per week.

I take this to the silent Meeting for Worship and reflect on how little I know about Nicaragua, even where it is; how little I know about so many countries of the world, how absorbed I am in myself and the ‘bigness‘ of my own ’problems’ and how small, really, I am and my ‘problems’ are comparatively. I wonder if I have anything in common whatsoever with a woman in Nicaragua managing her household on £1.30 a week. I wonder if the answer ‘humanity’ is enough.

Walking home, I consider what contribution I can make. What will I donate to Christian Aid? I think about a week’s earnings minus £1.30, the difference between her earnings and mine. I notice I feel distinctly uncomfortable. I reassure myself that it’s only one week’s earnings. One week out of 52. My husband is working. There are only two of us in a home almost paid for. We are not going to starve or go without, really. I am ashamed about feeling uneasy.

I consider the Quaker commitment to simplicity. May 2-6, Christian Aid’s target was that 5000 people would take the challenge ’Live Below the Line’ to live on £1 a day, raising £500,000 through sponsorship.

Too late for sponsorship. But I could live ‘simply’ this week and donate the savings. How to do ‘simply’? We already walk and cycle; compared with lots of other people in the supermarket queue, my trolley contents are meagre. How about a week spent living out of the cupboard and freezer? Eat up the ‘gold reserves’ I suspect every cook has, and then donate what I would have spent this week. I can do that.

So, I volunteer to collect for Christian Aid. And notice I am relieved that there are unopened packets of rice, spaghetti, porridge, cheese, beans, olives and tuna in the cupboard and a load of fresh fruit. Simple, maybe. Hardship, I don’t think so.

Ruth Shadwell is a member of Watford Quakers and Christ Church Watford. Reprinted from the Watford Observer 19th May 2011.

A couple started coming to Meeting during 2009, they were really quite keen, got involved in some of the other activities that happen here, came in enthusing about how they’d been to Quaker Quest at some other Meeting House, in another Area Meeting, Watford I think they said. Everyone was pleased to have new people so interested in Quakers. Then, one Sunday, right at the end of 2009, they mentioned that they’d decided to get married. That got the older Friends interested, especially when they added that they’d like a Quakerwedding. Where would they have it? At Jordans? That’s what most couples choose. No, here? Has there ever been a wedding here? Jordans is so historic and scenic, who’d chose High Wycombe? But this is where we belong, where we’re part of the Meeting. What excitement!

Then there were all the practicalities, times, dates, forms. It would be so much easier if they were Members – had they thought about that? Yes, but it wouldn’t be the right reason to apply for membership, let’s find Friends to support our application to marry here as attenders.

As the day approached I was cleaned from top to bottom, my walls repainted. Nick practised making biscuits (Friends enjoyed testing the samples), everyone was encouraged to be there. The day itself was dry, and sunny at times, (good for October) and everyone was assembled in good time – family, friends and Friends and the couple themselves, and settled into silent waiting. On this occasion there were many who spoke, all briefly. Nick and Paula exchanged their vows, Paula read a poem that expressed how she felt, the certificate was signed and read out, more Friends gave ministry, all held in the worshipping heart of the Meeting. Then the Elders shook hands, everyone else was invited to add their signatures to the Quaker Marriage Certificate. Tea and Nick’s special biscuits were served, the couple disappeared for a while to sign the legal papers. Everyone trooped outside into the sunshine to be photographed, the photographer hanging out of the upstairs window, and everyone talked to everyone else. Eventually the whole party made it’s way into High Wycombe to the Swan for a meal, some speeches and folk dancing, and I was left quiet again. The wardens crept back about 10pm, finished the washing up and made me clean and tidy for first day morning. What a wonderful occasion to remember.

Stephanie Grant (for Wednesday Group 15/12/10)

That’s where Faith comes in. Some members of faith communities hold strong beliefs about the use of violence to achieve any purpose, good or bad. The conscientious objectors of both world wars faced bitter shame and rejection because they held firm to their convictions. But what has all this to do with a harmless census?

You may think that the Office for National Statistics will be running the census and they are – up to a point. But they will be receiving a bit of help: a contract worth £150M has been awarded to an American company, Lockheed Martin, which happens to be America’s largest arms manufacturer. The company makes Trident nuclear missiles, cluster bombs and F-16 fighter jets, not to mention its involvement with the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq and Guantánamo Bay in Cuba, where it provided private contract interrogators. Not the kind of firm, some people think, we want handling our sensitive data – quite apart from the financial support it gives to the arms trade.

So, for some local folk of many different faiths and none, the census this year will pose a difficult ethical problem. Where do you stand?

Chris Pettit, as published in the Watford Observer on 4th March 2011.

Lindsey March

Stephanie Grant

Beverley

Stephanie Grant

Ruth Shone

Stephanie Grant

Stephanie Grant

Stephanie Grant

Yes.

When it’s all over.

For the courage to meet my fears.
For choosing to be careful when I could have been dismissive.
For choosing kindness when I could have been hurtful.
For choosing patience when I could have been hasty.
For choosing to listen when I could have turned away.
For choosing to accept when I could have condemned.
For choosing silence when I could have spoken in anger.

For the determination, time and again, to honour a better self,
Pin The Star of Bethlehem
over my heart.

Ruth Shadwell, Feburary 2011

Stephanie Grant

Stephanie Grant

Ruth Shone

Stephanie Grant

Stephanie Grant

We will be posting a new Haiku every day for the next week!

Evelyn Van Dyk

Chris Pettit 2011

J.S.

This January in particular Quakers are looking back 350 years, to a declaration made to Charles II that was the first written statement of our peace testimony. The writers had lived through the recent bloody conflict of the English Civil War.

It begins ‘Our principle has always been, to seek peace, and ensue it, and to follow after righteousness, and the knowledge of God, seeking the Good and Well-fare, and doing that which tends to the peace of All’ and continues ‘We utterly deny all outward wars and strife and fightings with outward weapons, for any end or under any pretence whatsoever’.

A Quaker testimony is not a form of words, it is something we aim to express in our lives through our actions. In a way it is like the English constitution, which is not written down but is expressed in our law.

The way we express the peace testimony in our lives will differ for each one of us. Some will engage in non violent direct action against weapons of mass destruction, as at Greenham Common and more recently at Aldermaston. Others will be involved in dialogue with their local MP, in writing to newspapers, or in providing safe spaces where politicians can talk ‘off the record’. Some are developing ways and teaching skills so that people can make their views heard without resorting to violence, as at the ‘Turning the Tide’ workshop that ran recently in Watford and that has also been working among young people in Kenya. Still others engage in mediation work, either formally, or informally among their colleagues.

In 2011 the peace testimony will be as challenging to put into practice as it has ever been but we can each be asking ourselves “What can I do this year to make the world a more peaceful place for everyone?”

Stephanie Grant, as in the Watford Observer on 31st December.

• Authority and Power, Apocalypse and Aftermath
• the Bible – in a new light
• Christianity – in the early days
• Distinctives, Discovery and Deepening
• the Evolving tradition, Experiencing the Spirit and Engaging with the world
• Fox, George and Friends, early
• the Gospel of Mark
• the History of Holland House
• Interfaith Initiatives
• Journalling
• Knots in a length of string
• Library stacks and how to move them, the turnings of the Labyrinth
• Muslim women, Mindfulness and Mirroring
• Names, and what mine might be
• Opening to the Spirit
• Peace activists and Being Peace
• Quakers!
• Rumi and Reed-beds, Red cabbage and maples
• Stephen
• Talking over Tea
• Understanding Islam
• Volunteering – opportunities for
• the Whole banana
• some eXtraordinary things
• Young Friends
• Zen (in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hahn)

Stephanie Grant for writing group 20/10/10

As performed by Stephanie, Peter and Jim Grant on the 19th December at Watford Meeting House.

It was five weeks since Joyce had died. Although in her seventy fifth year she had died suddenly and unexpectedly. The funeral was over and the family had gone home, carefully taking it in turns to ring him each evening to make sure he was alright.

He had not let them sort through Joyce’s possessions. He had not been ready then and wanted to be alone to linger over the memories they brought to mind one last time before parting with them as he knew he must. Today he had started sorting through her things, inhaling her scent on the elaborate lace handkerchief she kept for use at weddings. Finding Josh’s first baby shoes, a rough sketch on a scrap of paper of the house they had built together and an old letter from Joyce’s sister in England. How all these things told of their life together. Then, at the back of the drawer, he had found the sealed envelope.

He had been twenty five years old when he decided to emigrate. He knew the job and prospects on offer in Canada were too good to turn down. If he stayed in England he would be in a dead end job all his life, if he was lucky enough to have a job at all.

Then three weeks before he was due to set sail he had met Joyce. By the time he was due to embark he knew that he didn’t want to leave her. He asked if he could write to her and when he had become established and had saved up enough for her fare and expenses, if she would come out to Canada and marry him. She had said “yes” that no matter what lay ahead they would get through it together.

Now he sat and pondered. Had she not meant what she said? Had she really not trusted him at all? Had she not loved him as much as he loved her? Had she thought it would be a bit of an adventure at his expense?

He had been moved by her complete faith in him, that she would leave family and friends behind and travel alone to the other side of the world to an unknown future. It had been difficult. They had both worked to the point of exhaustion. The bitter winters and isolation had been hard on them both as they started their own small business and built their home and family.

He picked up the envelope again. He took out the return ticket and saw that it had no time limitations. She could have left him and returned to England at any time. God knows, there were many occasions when he was close to despair himself and would gladly have given up and returned to the old country if HE had had a return ticket.

No, this return ticket did not mean that his Joyce had not loved him enough. It meant that even though she had the means to escape the toil and hardship, she loved him so much that she had chosen to stay with him through thick and thin.

He roused himself and made a cup of tea. What a lucky man he was to have had such a wonderful woman to share his life with him.

Chris Pettit 2010

Sorry, Ethel, did you want to use the phone? I don’t suppose they will get back to me; they must be getting busier and busier, more and more people. But also fewer and fewer slugs. But then slugs don’t use the telephone. Oh well, maybe I’ll just have to wait and see when I get there.

Lindsey March

You went by car, with Mary and the dog, Montmorency.

We took time to visit the museum and the engine sheds, to see the tunnel and the floral displays.

You stopped to browse in the craft shop.

Our steam engine broke down and we finished the journey behind a deisel loco.

We all met up in Whitby, found the restaurant and lunched on Whitby kippers.

I gave you my return ticket. Richard gave his to Mary.

We all explored Whitby. Some climbed to the abbey ruins. Jim and I took a boat trip.

Then the return journey.

Richard drove me and Montmorency (who was so quiet we stopped to check he really was in the back of the car)home over the high moors, pointing out the old Meeting Houses on the way. Broad, open, empty spaces. Quiet, calm. We got in and I cooked the evening meal, while Richard tended the fire and tidied up.

You were much delayed.

I had time to garnish the Whitby crab and lay the table.

You had fires on the railway, and had lost your handbag. When you reached us you were desperately trying to phone the restaurant to locate your bag – but they were shut.

Eventually, we all sat down together for our meal. Time to talk through the day’s adventures, hear about the fire blackened faces of the fire-fighters, and how the steam engine had to be replaced by a diesel that was less likely to cause fires.

Epilogue, and more chat into the night.

It’s good to be together.

Stephanie Grant for Writing Group 17/11/10

About a day of our Equipping for Ministry reunion at Barmoor May 2010 and a trip on the North York Moors Railway.

There is a problem with booking in advance. One has to decide. One can’t act on impulse – unless one decides to be out of pocket.

It’s all very well living in the here and now, but as far as tickets are concerned, one cannot avoid the moment of contemplating the future. One has to book in advance. One has to decide.

Does one want an open return? How very flexible. Enough rope to hang oneself while keeping an end fixed to a point in time, when it will be yanked – and there one is.
Returned.

Does one want to return at all?

Two singles are often cheaper than a return.

Why does it cost more to come back than it does to go? Why does it cost more to come back on a Sunday? Is the increased Sunday fare a penalty for being foolish enough to return at all? Or is one’s sense of moral responsibility to return from the pursuit of freedom on the 11.16 Pendelino to Manchester Piccadilly before ones absence is discovered on Monday morning, when the world return to normality, being exploited by the train companies on behalf of their shareholders?

The fact is, however, when one considers it carefully, that the routine responsibility of the original return, absolutely, inevitably, unquestionably, actually, becomes the routine responsibility of the present here and now, of what had been previously the destination. Or to put it more simply, everyone needs clean knickers and breakfast eventually.

To return is, after all, only geographical, not temporal, and one can decide, perhaps, whether it be emotional or psychological.

However, just to be on the safe side, I’ll book two singles.

Ruth Shadwell, Novemeber 2010

I think of people who are in a coma. They hear and are not able to show that they have heard. Why do their bodily functions still happen, if their brain is not active? Because, I suppose, every cell is a little brain, knowing what it should do whether or not the brain is sending messages. Is your life still worth living in such a state? I suppose people who wake from a coma are asked that, but I have
not read what they answered. It would seem to me like an endless hell. Like being in solitary confinement – an inhuman punishment, it’s called. Yes indeed. We are a sociable species. But we are adaptable, and people do seem to survive that and other things I cannot imagine bearing.

I try to hear my thoughts. But although I am aware of them, I do not know if I am hearing them. You can think more quickly than you can speak, yet thoughts do seem to come in words. Does that mean that you can hear the ones that come in words but not the other ones? I am aware of the familiar questions, the ones that return again and again, and find no answers. The ones I wake up
with and fall asleep with. The ones that have dug deep grooves in my brain. The ones I hear when there is silence. I seem to be full of questions, and some of these I am writing down are new ones.

It has been interesting, to stop and listen.

Lindsey March

I sit quiet, still
I listen. I hear
chain saw, traffic,
lorry reversing.

I let it go. Pay
attention to my breath.
I hear birdsong,
lawn mower, the heating
control. Just breathe.

Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am
Be still and know that I
Be still and know that
Be still and know
Be still and
Be still
Be

Just be

The silence is thick,
tangible, substantial.
it reaches out to me, to us, from us.
Surrounds me like a blanket,
holds me like a babe-in-arms.

I am safe, secure, but
not confined or restricted.
Words may come, someone
may listen aloud. I may
hear the light and it may
terrify me, strengthen me.
Or I may just be,

just be a little more what I am, what I truly am.
May I carry that with me as I go into the noise and haste.

Stephanie Grant (for Wednesday group 21/7/10)

Beyond the commemorative names though, the fact that he had something to do with the origins of the US state of Pennsylvania may be as much as many locals actually know about him.

Born in 1644 and the son of an admiral, Penn became a convinced Quaker at the age of 22 in a time of political and religious turmoil when members of this radical egalitarian group were frequently beaten, imprisoned and tortured. Penn himself, a prolific writer and outspoken critic of the establishment in church and state, was imprisoned repeatedly for his faith and for challenging measures to outlaw dissent.

It was Penn’s faith that drove him to harness his other talents, learning and family advantages in the foundation of a “holy experiment”, a New World society free from religious persecution in Pennsylvania, still known today as ‘the Quaker State’. Almost uniquely among colonial leaders he respected Native Americans and treated them as friends and equals in negotiating and trading. Some two hundred Quakers from Rickmansworth and Chorleywood as well as thousands from elsewhere in Britain, Europe and other American colonies, left home to share his vision of a free, peaceful and tolerant society in which each could follow the leadings of God from within rather than endure persecution under the rule of clerics and kings who feared where such visions might lead. Penn’s carefully drafted Constitution of 1682 included democratic restrictions to his own powers as Governor and reached for the lofty ideals of freedom and equality that later inspired the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution.

Penn’s great project was, in some ways, a victim of its own success as many other settlers, of different faiths and none, were drawn to Pennsylvania and prospered there, inevitably evolving the character of his ‘experiment’. He died in 1718 and his plain gravestone can be seen a few miles from Rickmansworth, in the garden of the Quaker Meeting House at Jordans. Fittingly it carries no grand epitaph although Penn was the author of many Quaker maxims for living including the simple, impossible and essential; “To be like Christ is to be a Christian”.

Simon Colbeck is a member of Watford Quaker Meeting. Reprinted from the Watford Observer 22nd October 2010.

Like standing looking up at the stars shimmer on the blue-black velvet night sky, and sound is hushed, and stillness settles, slowly surrounding us.

When I saw the last eclipse of the sun, as the moon passed between earth and sun, we experienced an eerie silence. It made me aware of the birds who became very quiet as the sky darkened. The moon cloaked the sun and silently as it passed by, and the sun went on its way past the moon, and all happened in silence. It was a quiet, majestic experience.

The silence that is God leaves us at times frustrated. But could our mentality cope with such communication. When Moses spoke with God in the mountains and received the ten commandments, the Jews were so terrified of the sound of His voice they pleaded with Moses to beg God not to speak to them. How might we feel at such a time?

Silence can be golden, but by communicating we can develop our relationships. That is an avenue down which we can show love and share support for one another.

JK 21/7/10

‘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

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

Jenny Senior, Feb 2010

Reflections in the lake at Woodbroke
Stephanie Grant

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

“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.
]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/12/extracts-from-our-triennial-report-september-2009/feed/ 1 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/12/extracts-from-our-triennial-report-september-2009/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/a8fY3ggRomQ/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/powershift/#comments Sat, 31 Oct 2009 13:56:36 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=228 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





]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/powershift/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/powershift/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/8wQ-N9jNqd8/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/seed/#comments Sun, 04 Oct 2009 12:51:12 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=208 Being true to seed
Is long slow germination
Patience, not hard graft.

Ruth Shadwell

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/seed/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/seed/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/f1GiLPLD1S4/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/two-bicycles/#comments Sun, 04 Oct 2009 12:48:31 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=219 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/two-bicycles/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/10/two-bicycles/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/7msGhJoZIqY/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/half-way-up-the-stairs/#comments Sun, 27 Sep 2009 23:22:54 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=221 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/half-way-up-the-stairs/feed/ 1 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/half-way-up-the-stairs/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/fkirnXN7LEI/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-another-response/#comments Sat, 19 Sep 2009 20:38:51 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=214 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-another-response/feed/ 2 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-another-response/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/nWMNxQAVjng/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-09-home-goups-reflection/#comments Fri, 04 Sep 2009 13:22:41 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=200 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.

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-09-home-goups-reflection/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/09/yearly-meeting-gathering-09-home-goups-reflection/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/pv2euVddaUQ/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/yearly-meeting-gathering-2009/#comments Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:26:03 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=193 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.

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/yearly-meeting-gathering-2009/feed/ 3 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/yearly-meeting-gathering-2009/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/YVElI3Z_z-8/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/beachcombing/#comments Tue, 21 Jul 2009 10:32:41 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=189 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/beachcombing/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/beachcombing/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/IKywJ4t7w-s/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/exciting-times-for-watford-quakers/#comments Thu, 09 Jul 2009 21:04:09 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=183 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/exciting-times-for-watford-quakers/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/07/exciting-times-for-watford-quakers/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/ANEy5MuLH5g/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/my-idea-of-heaven/#comments Tue, 30 Jun 2009 09:30:22 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=174 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/my-idea-of-heaven/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/my-idea-of-heaven/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/vJoEFfXDyH0/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/all-age-worship-co-operation/#comments Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:13:22 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=160 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’.













]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/all-age-worship-co-operation/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/all-age-worship-co-operation/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/14Nw5vmYCW4/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/in-life-the-simpler-the-better/#comments Mon, 08 Jun 2009 16:20:40 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=157 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.

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/in-life-the-simpler-the-better/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/06/in-life-the-simpler-the-better/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/Pi654gJ5pGQ/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/the-disillusioned-cynic/#comments Sun, 31 May 2009 19:50:48 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=152 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/the-disillusioned-cynic/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/the-disillusioned-cynic/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/hHOgvtRPJFk/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/ideal-life/#comments Sun, 24 May 2009 20:37:30 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=148 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/ideal-life/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/ideal-life/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/Usjyl9lkJbo/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/sacred-space-at-celebration/#comments Sun, 17 May 2009 16:56:45 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=137 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.

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/sacred-space-at-celebration/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/sacred-space-at-celebration/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/oocrFLJYCCc/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/spring-g20/#comments Mon, 11 May 2009 08:41:59 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=132 “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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/spring-g20/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/spring-g20/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/oLpEZx7gjo8/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/cherry-stones-and-the-souls-life/#comments Mon, 04 May 2009 06:31:54 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=124 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/cherry-stones-and-the-souls-life/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/05/cherry-stones-and-the-souls-life/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/U2XVZBPys-Q/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/guernica/#comments Sun, 19 Apr 2009 20:19:36 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=120 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/guernica/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/guernica/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/4d1CcpW77cw/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/silence-is-golden-my-idea-of-meeting/#comments Mon, 13 Apr 2009 21:45:22 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=113 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/silence-is-golden-my-idea-of-meeting/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/silence-is-golden-my-idea-of-meeting/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/ZWEMSGuXh4Q/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/all-age-worship-new-life/#comments Sun, 05 Apr 2009 21:13:19 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=90 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/all-age-worship-new-life/feed/ 2 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/04/all-age-worship-new-life/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/ZdvHKri9guw/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/all-age-worship/#comments Sun, 29 Mar 2009 20:00:40 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=81 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/all-age-worship/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/all-age-worship/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/tl0wgIRaQqw/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/the-elusive-ideal-of-equality/#comments Mon, 23 Mar 2009 16:18:48 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=78 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/the-elusive-ideal-of-equality/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/the-elusive-ideal-of-equality/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/kk5Ap5D0tqc/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/wednesday-morning/#comments Sun, 15 Mar 2009 23:39:56 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=70 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/wednesday-morning/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/wednesday-morning/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/4Tj-MOmTLtg/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/quaker-cake/#comments Sun, 08 Mar 2009 19:19:14 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=52

• 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/quaker-cake/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/quaker-cake/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/aRjPnwX4L70/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/a-cup-of-tea-a-poem-for-fairtrade-fortnight/#comments Sun, 01 Mar 2009 20:00:48 +0000 Chris http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=27 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/a-cup-of-tea-a-poem-for-fairtrade-fortnight/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/03/a-cup-of-tea-a-poem-for-fairtrade-fortnight/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/a0Fe4HJvLRQ/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/shopping/#comments Sun, 22 Feb 2009 17:56:13 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=31 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/shopping/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/shopping/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/ODavZQ3GUsw/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/window/#comments Sun, 15 Feb 2009 09:40:15 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=13 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/window/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/window/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/vjlupKcOS0A/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/things-i-love-doing/#comments Sun, 08 Feb 2009 21:49:43 +0000 admin http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=8 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/things-i-love-doing/feed/ 1 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/things-i-love-doing/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/DgVL4qi-ry0/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/the-meeting/#comments Tue, 03 Feb 2009 12:16:32 +0000 Chris http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=18 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

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/the-meeting/feed/ 0 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/02/the-meeting/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WatfordQuakers-Sharing/~3/EZgfwMCKtx0/ http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/01/poem-for-national-quaker-week/#comments Fri, 16 Jan 2009 09:51:06 +0000 admin http://watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/?p=3 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)

]]> http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/01/poem-for-national-quaker-week/feed/ 2 http://www.watfordquakers.org.uk/sharing/2009/01/poem-for-national-quaker-week/